MY STORY AFTER TITANIC SANK
Chapter Nine

It was several hours before Cal returned, and by that time he was slightly tipsy. I was in bed by then, curled up against the pain in my stomach. I knew that I was losing the baby, but since no one had come to check on me, and the door had been locked, I had been unable to summon help.

He threw the door open with a bang, tripping slightly on the heavy carpet as he came into the room. He flipped the light on, causing me to pull the covers over my head to protect my eyes.

He strode over, pulling the covers back down. I was curled up in pain, blood staining my nightgown and the sheet beneath me.

When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. "How are you doing, Sweetpea?" he asked, his voice falsely solicitous. "How’s the baby?"

There were a thousand things I wanted to say to him, all of which would result in another beating. Instead, I just told him, "I need a doctor."

"Do you, Rose? For what?"

I clenched my teeth at his patronizing tone. He knew very well why I needed a doctor.

"I’m losing the baby," I told him, my voice catching on the last word. "You killed your own child. And with the way I’m bleeding, I could die, too. Then you’d never get an heir."

He almost slapped me when I told him he had killed his own child, but restrained himself. Straightening, he told me, "I’ll have Hutchins summon the doctor. You are to stay in this bed until he arrives. And if you mention one word about what happened this afternoon, I will make you very, very sorry."

I just stared at him. He’d already beaten me, raped me, and killed my unborn child…what more could he possibly do?

Seeing my look, a slight smile of triumph crossed his face. "Hutchins found out where Dawson lives, Sweetpea. If you breathe a word about what happened, I’ll have him killed."

I stared at him in shock. "You wouldn’t. Even you wouldn’t do that."

"Wouldn’t I?" He walked toward the door, then turned back to me. "The law would never convict me, Rose. They would never call it murder if I had the man who had beaten and raped my wife killed."

"Jack never—"

"But they don’t know that, and you’ve obviously been beaten. I won’t mention any names…but if you try to implicate me, Jack’s name will come up…and he will be found in an alley with his skull bashed in." He shrugged, opening the door. "It’s up to you, Sweetpea. You’re never going to see him again, but you will decide whether he lives or dies."

With that, he left, leaving me lying in the bed with horrified tears running down my face. There was nothing I could do. If I told the doctor what had really happened, Jack would die. Cal didn’t make threats lightly…when he said he would do something, he did it.

*****

About half an hour later, the doctor arrived. I was still lying in bed, just as Cal had ordered, but I had wadded up the fine linen top sheet and pushed it between my legs, trying to stanch the flow of blood.

Cal followed the doctor in, much to his dismay. He had already told the doctor that I was suffering a miscarriage, and the doctor did not consider Cal’s presence appropriate, and I had no desire to have him there.

Cal put on such a show of concern and distress, however, that the doctor finally allowed him to stay. I didn’t doubt that he was concerned and distressed—I might tell the doctor what had really happened, and he might be in trouble. I doubted it, though. There was no law against a man beating his wife, and even the severity of the beating might not be enough to condemn him.

In truth, if anyone discovered what had really happened, I would be the one punished—by Cal, who would be furious that I had said something—and the punishment would be even more severe if he was arrested for what he had done to me.

Besides, I had to think of Jack. There was no doubt in my mind that Cal would blame him for my injuries, or that he would have him killed. On the Titanic, he had told Jack that he always won, one way or another, and it was true. He always did.

With Cal hovering nearby, the doctor got me to lay down straight and took away the blood-soaked sheet. He lifted my nightgown to examine me, then stopped, shocked, at the sight of the bruises marring my pale skin. My whole torso was bruised and discolored, especially my stomach, and colorful bruises disfigured my legs—and my arms, as well, when the sleeves of my loose nightgown slid up.

"Mrs. Hockley, have you been beaten?" he asked, his voice showing his shock. Society ladies were rarely injured as I was.

I turned my head, not saying anything. I dared not tell the truth, but I wouldn’t say anything that might falsely implicate Jack, either.

"Mrs. Hockley?"

"She’s…she’s been traumatized," Cal told him, moving to the other side of the bed and taking my hand with deceptive gentleness. "There has been a strange man, a drifter, in the area. I told her not to go out alone, but she wanted to go shopping, and it was her maid’s day off, so she went out alone. From what she told me before she fainted from the shock and I brought her up here, the man attacked her as she was walking home. He beat her and stole her parcels and money. I…I have reason to believe that he may have…violated her, as well." His hand tightened painfully on mine, warning me not to contradict his words.

The doctor nodded, seeming to accept Cal’s story. "I will examine her and see if that is indeed the case."

I lay quietly, wanting to scream as they discussed me as though I weren’t there. When Cal finally let go of my hand and moved to sit in a chair across the room, I sighed inwardly, grateful that at least he was no longer crushing my hand.

I clenched my teeth, willing myself not to make a sound as I was examined. Every bone in my body ached from the beating, making it hard to move. What was worse, though, was the internal examination. When the doctor checked to see if I had lost the baby, I couldn’t help but whimper in pain. I hurt more inside than outside, though I had never thought it possible, and I wondered why Cal didn’t hurt, too, after what he had done to me.

Finally, the doctor completed the examination. He looked at me sympathetically. "Mr. Hockley…" He beckoned to Cal, who hurried over, wanting to know what had happened. "I regret to inform you that your wife has indeed lost the baby she was carrying, and she has also been raped."

"Will she be all right?" For once, Cal looked genuinely anxious.

"I believe so. I was able to stem the bleeding, and with the fetus expelled, it’s less likely that she will hemorrhage again, but if she does, I want you to call me immediately. She has lost a lot of blood, and needs to remain on bed rest until I give my permission for her to get up. I will return tomorrow afternoon to check up on her, unless you call me sooner. Now…will her maid be caring for her during the day, or will you need to hire a nurse?"

"Ah…I believe her maid can care for her, unless something goes wrong. Trudy was once in training to be a nurse, wasn’t she, Sweetpea?"

I’d never heard of that, but I nodded, knowing that he didn’t want to go to the expense of hiring a nurse for me. If nothing went wrong, Trudy could care for me well enough, and if there were problems, she was quite capable of calling the doctor for me.

"Good. It’s settled, then. I’ll wake Trudy and allow the doctor to give her the necessary instructions."

"All right. I will leave the medicine that Mrs. Hockley needs for now, and her maid can fill a prescription for her in the morning."

When Cal had left the room, the doctor leaned toward me. I was lying still, my hands covering my face, not wanting him to see that I was crying.

"Mrs. Hockley." I didn’t move. "Mrs. Hockley?"

I finally pulled my hands away from my face, wiping quickly at my eyes. "Yes, doctor?" I tried to keep the sobs from my voice.

"Were you really attacked by a strange man?"

I stilled, wanting desperately to tell the truth, but knowing what the consequences were if I did. For a moment, I said nothing.

"Mrs. Hockley?"

"Yes," I finally said, cursing Cal for doing this to me. "A man attacked me."

"But was he a stranger, the drifter that your husband described?"

My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t answer for a moment.

"Yes," I finally lied. "But I can’t remember what he looked like. Everything is a blur…"

He nodded, accepting my words. I buried my face in my pillow as he gave me a shot of some sort of sedative to make me sleep.

I had no choice but to lie. Jack’s life was in danger, and I would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

Chapter Ten
Stories