SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Five

Titanic arrived in Queenstown at 11:30 AM sharp with no difficulty. However, the crew did have to dock the ship two miles offshore, due to its size. The Queenstown docks were too small to accommodate a ship as grand as Titanic.

From the boat deck, Anne watched several small bumboats steam to and from the large ocean liner. They carried many merchants bearing Irish lace, china, clothing, and other products. She had wanted to go down to the promenade and see what else was being sold, but she knew it would be crowded, and she wasn’t too entirely fond of being in such close quarters. Instead, she went to the Café Parisien.

Anne sat at a small table near a window, sipping coffee. The Café Parisien had been modeled to look like a sidewalk café in Paris. She had never been to Paris, but judging by the comments from other first class passengers who had visited, the Café Parisien was exactly like being there. Even the waiters were French!

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth Stewart?" Anne’s head shot up at the sound of her name, her real name. She scanned the restaurant for a moment before her eyes rested on the tall, slim figure before her. Her eyes widened as she looked over the woman with fair skin and intensely red hair.

"Rose!" Anne leapt from her chair and the two embraced. "My word! How good it is to see you! It’s been so long!"

"Oh, Elizabeth!" Rose firmly held her stepsister against her, hardly believing she was really there. They hadn’t seen each other since they were young children. She stepped back a few steps, taking in her stepsister’s figure. "Well, the years have definitely treated you kindly! You’ve become quite beautiful, Elizabeth. I must say, if you had stayed, you would have certainly been married off by now! Of course, Mother would be trying to kill the both of us."

"Thank you." Anne blushed at the compliment. "You’ve become quite a catch, too. And you’re married? Who was that man you were with last night? Ruth adores you, Rose. If anyone, it’d be me she’s trying to kill."

"Oh." Rose’s eyes suddenly lost their joy, and she sighed. Rose sat down across from Anne at the table. "That would be Caledon Hockley...my fiancé."

"F-fiancé?" Anne’s eyes grew wide. "You’re getting married? How wonderful!"

"Ha! Hardly." Rose rolled her eyes. "Really, Elizabeth. I hope you never have to meet him. Speaking of engagements, are you busy later this evening? I’d love it if you joined us for dinner." Rose suddenly worried at her lower lip. "Never mind. Don’t answer that. Cal’s not my fiancé by choice, believe me. Mother arranged it...financial issues." Rose leaned her elbow on the back of her chair, resting her temple on her fingers. "You were so lucky to have been sent to Barclay. So, tell me. What did you do after you got away from the Academy?"

"I hired a chauffeur to take me to Southampton, and then boarded Titanic." Anne grinned when Rose’s face registered confusion. "After I graduated, I stayed and became a tutor. This is the first time I’ve left Barclay since Ruth sent me there when I was...what, nine? I haven’t exactly led an adventurous life. I was hoping this would give me a chance to start over."

"And now Mother had to pack us up and send us away on this slave ship, and you haven’t gotten rid of us at all." Rose glanced pitifully at Anne. "I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Life is cruel."

"It’s not your fault! Honestly, I would have been more surprised to learn that Ruth hadn’t booked you on the grandest ship in the world’s maiden voyage." Anne smiled. "And please, call me Anne."

"All right...Anne." Rose giggled. "So, where are you headed after we dock in New York? Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mother. She’d probably hunt you down to the ends of the earth if she knew you had left Barclay. Mother’s quite talented at making everyone’s life miserable...but you already know that." Rose sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, she’s in the Palm Court. Cal’s in the lounge with the other pompous windbags, having brandy and cigars. As far as Mother knows, you and I haven’t even crossed paths. And as long as you two don’t see each other at all, she’ll never know you left England!"

"I take it she’s become quite the role model?" Anne raised a brow mockingly. "Anyway, I accepted a position as governess for a wealthy family in Pittsburgh. Or maybe it was Philadelphia. Either way, I’m off to Pennsylvania," Anne explained.

"What’s the name of the family?" Rose asked, idly stirring the coffee a waiter had brought her.

"Lewis," Anne replied, and Rose’s eyes widened.

"The Lewis family? You’re working for George and Abby? Cal is good friends with them. Maybe we’ll see each other often!" Rose excitedly exclaimed. It would be so nice to have a real friend in the world...but, oh, Mother and Elizabeth—Anne don’t get along. "Well, I don’t know."

"Maybe," Anne meekly said, staring into her coffee cup.

"Well, I’d better be off before I’m missed. God forbid I leave Cal for too long." Rose rolled her eyes again, rising from the table. "It was so nice to see you again. Maybe we’ll see each other again...maybe on the aft promenade tomorrow night?"

"Maybe." Anne’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Good. Oh, one more thing." Rose’s brow furrowed slightly. "Where’s your husband?"

"Husband?" Anne asked, and Rose nodded, inquiring as to where he was. "I’m not married, Rose. I may be twenty-three, but I haven’t found love as you have at seventeen. Heavens, I’ve never even been courted."

Rose stared at her stepsister in shock. Poor woman! She deserves better...but then again, don’t we all? "Well, when you find love, you’ll know it. I haven’t found it yet, Anne. Remember that. I may be engaged, but that doesn’t mean I’m in love." She offered a sad smile, then left the café.

Anne stared after her stepsister from the table. My, she’s grown up! I suppose I have, too. She’s changed so much. How did I even recognize her? Her hair. And her eyes. Still the same bright, beautiful blue they’ve always been. Like the ocean. And so mysterious. Like an ocean of secrets. I wonder who this Caledon Hockley fellow is. Rose has a good head on her shoulders. If she says Hockley’s no gentleman, then he probably isn’t. She rose from her seat and left the café, knowing she had at least four friends on the ship.

With an hour and a half left before dinner was to begin, Anne sought out Megan. Finding the young woman, Anne asked her to help her dress and style her hair. Megan naturally agreed, with much enthusiasm, glad to spend time with one of the very few tolerable first class passengers aboard the ship.

"I suppose you’ve heard that one should always ask the servants if one wishes to learn anything about a household, right?" Megan asked, intertwining a thick length of dark green ribbon through Anne’s hair, accenting her green eyes.

"Yes." Anne warily and slowly nodded, wondering what the maid was thinking about the saying.

"Well, then, I suppose you’ll know next that I’m going to ask you just what you think of a certain First Officer." Megan grinned giddily. "Rumor has it that he’s quite taken with a certain first class passenger. Rumor also has it that he hasn’t courted anyone in a very, very long time," Megan added, stressing the word very.

"Hmm. News really does travel quickly." Anne blushed, turning her eyes to her hands, which she suddenly found quite interesting, despite the ugly scar on one of her right knuckles. "Well, we’ve only just met. Well, we met the other day. In Southampton. The day before the ship left. And..." Anne’s voice trailed off, and the room grew silent. She could have sworn Megan was grinning, but she wasn’t at the mirror and couldn’t see the maid’s reflection.

"Have fun tonight." Megan smiled when she finished, adding, "But not too much fun."

Anne laughed at the stewardess’s brashness, but nodded. She opted not to wear her white, elbow-length gloves, deeming them too fancy and out of place for dinner with the ship’s officers. But, then again, they were officers...she slid the smooth fabric over her skin and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She wore a dark green dress. It clung to her as all dresses in that age did, and it was of the softest green velvet. Her eyes seemed alert and bright, and unusually green. She smiled. But what will Murdoch think? Suddenly, there was a knock at her door, and the butterflies that had been flitting about earlier were now shredding their wings from beating against the walls of her stomach so quickly.

"Good eve—" Murdoch’s eyes widened ever so slightly at Anne’s appearance. "Good evening. A-are you ready for dinner?" Anne nodded, and he offered her his arm. Then, he escorted her to the crew’s mess. My God, she’s beautiful. I probably look a mess. Lack of sleep does things to you...even when you’ve been used to it for such a long time.

Anne smiled inwardly. He had truly been speechless! And it was because of her! Is it somehow possible that I’m not as plain and unattractive as everyone’s led me to believe? Could it be? Really? Or am I just fooling myself?

"Evening, Will. Good evening...Miss." A rather young man, maybe slightly older than Moody, sat at the table Anne, Moody, and Murdoch had occupied the previous evening. He rose from his chair upon seeing Anne.

"Miss Stewart." Anne smiled.

"Miss Stewart, I would like to introduce Fifth Officer Harold Lowe." Murdoch nodded to the young man. "Miss Stewart is joining us from the first class."

"It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Stewart. Especially now that I’ve a face to put with the description." Lowe smirked; his eyes moved to Murdoch.

"Description?" Anne asked, confused.

"Oh, yes. All Will could talk about—" Lowe began.

"I think I’ll get us coffee and tea. Do you want coffee, Lowe?" Murdoch glared at the younger man in warning, who smiled with a nod. Murdoch stormed into the kitchen.

"Are you and Mr. Moody good friends?" Anne asked as she tilted her head to the side and grinned. She sat down across the table from Lowe, who also took a seat.

"How did you guess?" Lowe grinned, sitting across from Anne. "So, Miss Stewart, what do you think of Titanic?"

"First of all, please call me Anne. And I think it’s a marvelous ship, and we are all quite lucky to have someone such as Mr. Murdoch taking such good care of us." Anne beamed.

"Splendid." Lowe smiled. "But you must call me Harry, then. Did you get a chance to go to the market on the aft promenade?"

"No, I didn’t." Anne regretfully shook her head as Murdoch emerged from the kitchen. "I would have liked to, though. I’ve never been to Ireland, or Scotland, for that matter. England is the farthest I’ve ever traveled, actually."

"Well, you’ll have to book lots of staterooms on White Star Line ships and travel with us! There are many lovely places I know you’d appreciate." Lowe nodded, taking a long sip of his coffee. "And Will’s from Scotland, if he hasn’t already told you. I’m sure he’d love to take you!"

"Dalbeattie," Anne softly answered.

"Aye." Murdoch nodded, sitting down beside Anne. "Dalbeattie." He looked over at Anne. "It truly is a swell place. You’ll never meet kinder people. It’s so quiet, so peaceful. You’d love it, Anne. Miss Stewart. My apologies." Murdoch glanced down at his coffee.

"I’m sure I would," Anne spoke softly.

"Do you have any family in New York?" Lowe asked a few minutes later.

"No. I’m going to Pennsylvania." Anne shook her head with a small smile. "My parents are dead, and I was an only child. However, I’ve learned that my stepmother and stepsister are on Titanic! I just spoke with my stepsister, Rose, this afternoon!"

"You did?" Murdoch was suddenly interested, and Anne nodded. "How did that go?"

"Oh, Rose was as nice as always. She was never cruel to me; it was always Ruth that was the cold-hearted one." Anne sighed. "Rose promised not to tell Ruth she’d seen me."

"What’s their last name?" Murdoch asked, and Anne told him. "Red-haired? Is there a tall fellow with dark hair with them?"

"Yes." Anne nodded. "That would be Mr. Caledon Hockley, Rose’s fiancé. It was arranged."

"Yes, I’ve seen them." Murdoch nodded. "She’s your stepmother? She’s nothing like you!"

"I know." Anne nodded. "That’s why I don’t speak with her."

Murdoch and Lowe nodded understandingly. Their food was brought out from the kitchen; this time, the steward carried three plates instead of two. He nervously waited for Murdoch’s reaction, and Anne bit her lip to suppress an amused smile.

"Lamb." Lowe chewed on a piece of meat.

"Lamb?" Anne asked. "As in the little white fluffy things that go baa?"

"Yes." Murdoch chuckled. "That would be a lamb. You don’t like it?"

"No. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never tasted it," Anne replied, slightly embarrassed.

"Well, there’s no better time than the present," Murdoch said.

"I suppose not," Anne replied, taking a small bite of the lamb. She swallowed, and almost coughed it back up from laughing when she realized Lowe and Murdoch were both watching her, waiting for her response. "It’s good."

"What’s good?" Just then, Moody strode into the room. "Blimey! Anne, you look beautiful tonight! Not that you don’t every night."

"Why, thank you, even if you’ve only ever seen me one night." Anne sweetly smiled, then laughed. "I’m so glad you could join us tonight."

"Well, then, you’re probably the only one." Moody smiled, sitting down beside Lowe, across from Murdoch. "How are you this evening?"

"A bit...overwhelmed, I must admit." Anne laughed. "I managed to lose myself trying to find the library, and then again trying to search for the purser. I finally gave up and spent most of my afternoon reading Jane Eyre."

"Yes, this ship is rather complicated. How these foreigners find their way around I’ll never know." Moody shook his head.

"It’s all rather exciting, seeing so many different people who speak so many different languages!" Anne animatedly exclaimed. "Although I suppose this is nothing new to any of you, sailing all the time."

"Sometimes...it just becomes a job. And then you lose appreciation for it." Moody sighed. "Or so I’ve heard. But yes, I agree, it is rather exciting!"

"So, Harry, what part do you play in keeping everything running smoothly?" Anne asked as she lowered her fork to her plate; she tilted her head slightly to the side, and Murdoch noticed this was as frequent a habit as worrying at her locket.

"James and I check the air and water temperatures daily," Lowe said, nodding to Moody, whose food was just arriving. "Unfortunately, we don’t get to constantly strut around like a martinet, like Mr. First Officer here."

"Oh, Mr. Murdoch is rather modest, I think." Anne glanced over at Murdoch, who’d been silent for quite some time. A small smile crossed her features when their eyes met. "I rather enjoy our time together."

"Clearly, you haven’t spent time with me," Lowe boasted and airily stuck his nose in the air mockingly, then laughed.

"I doubt a woman of Miss Stewart’s class would spend time with you if you paid her to," Murdoch dryly said as he took a sip of his tea.

"Oh, sod off, Will!" Lowe waved the senior officer off with a wave of his hand.

"My, but there seems to be a blurred distinction between senior officers and junior officers." Anne grinned. "I wonder what Captain Smith would have to say about it."

"Why? Do you see him?" Moody’s eyes suddenly flew to the doors, as did Lowe’s.

"No, but I imagine if I did, he wouldn’t be too pleased," Anne scolded, albeit somewhat jokingly.

"Can you act half-civilized in a lady’s presence for once?" Murdoch asked.

"Can you?" Lowe retorted, although it seemed the jokes were becoming slightly less light.

"Gentlemen!" Anne warned, her voice firm and slightly upset. She’d perfected that tone over the years at Barclay. "My, you’re worse than the girls at Barclay Academy!" She sighed as a round of apologies was made. "Honestly, I’ll be quite surprised if the three of you will not have killed one another by the time we dock in New York!"

Conversation became increasingly light after Anne’s comment. The men tolerated each other once again, but Anne couldn’t shake the feeling that something was the matter with Murdoch. He barely said a word to anyone, and continually seemed to be fidgeting with something, whether it be his napkin or his hands. When they finished dinner, he seemed rather glad to leave.

"I suppose I’ll see you fine gentlemen tomorrow," Anne teased as Murdoch rose and slid her chair out for her.

"I suppose." Moody grinned, bidding the two good night, as did Lowe.

"I apologize for our behavior in there," Murdoch softly told Anne once they’d left the crew’s mess.

"There’s no need to apologize." Anne shook her head. "I completely understand. I had no friends at Barclay, aside from one of my colleagues. The others were cruel and heartless. After being forced to endure them for so many years..." Anne’s voice trailed off and she smiled sadly. "Well, I’ll just say that I admire all of you for enduring each other, on a ship, no less, for such a long time."

"Honestly, we’re usually not so temperamental. I think it’s because this is the maiden voyage of the grandest ship in the world. There are so many wealthy and famous passengers, and we cannot afford to make even one mistake." Murdoch sighed and shook his head. He removed his cap and ran his hand through his hair.

"Don’t worry about it so. What could possibly go wrong? We’re on an unsinkable ship, or so they say, with a very highly skilled crew. There is so much to keep everyone occupied that I doubt anyone will become overly upset," Anne comforted. "I trust in you completely, Mr. Murdoch. You’ll get us safely to New York."

Murdoch stopped walking, and since Anne’s hand was on his elbow, she stopped, as well. He stared deeply into her eyes as she turned to face him. But her eyes held no humor; she was serious. A smile played on the corners of his mouth when she tilted her head to the side. No, she’s not like Ada. Not like Ada at all.

"What is it?" she asked. "Mr. Murdoch?"

"Will," he quietly whispered, his words almost completely swallowed by the waves that lapped against the sides of the ship.

"I’m sorry?" She shook her head ever so slightly as her eyebrows knitted together for a moment.

"Call me Will," Murdoch softly told her. A breeze arose and caressed her cheek with a renegade lock of dark hair, and he suppressed the urge to brush it away from her face.

"You must call me Anne, then," Anne said. She pushed the lock of hair behind her ear. It’s a breach of protocol, Anne. Don’t. Don’t! Why did you say that? Do you have any idea what you’re doing? No, not really.

Murdoch raised his hand ever so slowly. He placed it against the soft skin of Anne’s cheek. How he’d wanted to do that for so long! He felt her briefly shiver when he touched her, but she did not shy away. Instead, she slowly closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. When she opened them, he saw a happiness he did not know existed lighting her eyes.

Anne felt a wave of...something...flood through her body. She had never, ever so much as danced with a man other than her father. A tutor dancing at the Barclay galas? It was simply not done. And now...here she was, on the grandest, largest ship in the world, staring into the blue-gray eyes of the First Officer. This truly is the ship of dreams! Her skin seemed to tingle where he had touched her cheek. His skin was rough and calloused from years of hard work at sea. He was not an overweening aristocrat who sat behind a desk, like the men she’d known all her life. No. William Murdoch actually worked for a living.

Slowly, reluctantly, Murdoch let his hand fall from her face. Anne Stewart had not lived an easy life, or a promiscuous one, and he was not about to ruin her reputation. She had never been kissed, and he was not going to be the man who would steal her first. A first kiss was something special to be shared with someone special.

Well, what did you expect? A passionate kiss? Be realistic, Anne. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you. Anne hid her disappointment when Murdoch dropped his hand from her cheek. The cool breeze suddenly hit her now bare skin with a chill, and she shivered a bit.

"I...would you wait here a minute?" Murdoch suddenly asked. "I’ll be back in just a minute or two."

"Certainly." Anne nodded, still in a daze. She watched Murdoch quickly walk away, and hoped his disappearance had nothing to do with what had just happened. Well, nothing really happened, anyway. But what if he wanted me to do something else? What if he wanted me to walk away to prove that my heart is not easily given away to childish infatuations? Good gracious! Utterly confused, she slowly walked to the gunwale. Anne crossed her arms across her chest and felt goosebumps on her arms. The sleeves of her dress did not cover most of her arms, exposing the sensitive flesh to the cool air. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms for warmth, then rested her elbows and forearms on the railing. That was exactly how Murdoch found her.

Murdoch silently approached Anne. He could see her form silhouetted against the moon at the railing. She seemed so peaceful, so calm. He carried a small bundle under one arm, and paused several times as though wondering whether he really should approach the young woman or not. Finally, he walked up behind her, gently draping the gift around her shoulders. He heard her gasp in surprise and met her eyes as soon as she turned. "I had a moment to browse the market when we were in Queenstown, and...and I remembered the other night..." Murdoch’s eyes fell to the ground. "I thought...I thought maybe you’d need it."

Anne’s face slowly lit up with a smile. She reached up to finger the intricate white lace shawl Murdoch had wrapped around her shoulders. It was light but warm, and she loved it. "Thank you," she whispered. She felt her throat heat with a blush. "It was very thoughtful of you. I’ll treasure it always." Brilliant, Anne. Just brilliant.

"I hope it’s warm enough," was all Murdoch could say.

"Yes, it is." Anne nodded.

The two turned from the railing and began to walk side-by-side down the length of the ship. Not a word was said between them, but neither seemed to mind. All of a sudden, Murdoch slowly reached over and Anne found her fingers intertwined with his as they held hands. To any other passerby, they would have seemed an innocent and naive couple. And deep down, that was what they both wished.

Chapter Six
Stories