THE HEART GOES ON
Chapter Seventeen
Early January, 1913
Crosswinds, the Hockley Family Home, Philadelphia
Caledon
I walked into our library and sat
down in one of the comfortable chairs. I was feeling so depressed. I had spent
a miserable, tense Christmas with my strained family and then spent the rest of
the time blind drunk or gambling at the club. Anything but remembering.
I was dying to have a cigarette,
but my father would be along anytime now in preparation for the arranged
meeting with George Harrington Smyth and Emily. I prepared myself a quick
brandy. I needed it.
I could not believe it was 1913
and nine months since the Titanic sank. Nine months since everything I had once
held dear was lost to me.
My future with Rose. Rose was now
Jack Dawson’s wife and the mother of his child, obviously conceived on the
Titanic, as the girl had refused to be intimate with me other than a few stolen
kisses.
It pained me still and made my
head swim to think of her. The gutter rat had gotten one better than me. She
had screamed at me that the one thing he had to offer her that I could not was
love.
However, I had loved her, but not
in the way she needed. I would always love her.
She had broken my heart!
I still dreamed of her and was
feeling raw from the last encounter when I tried in vain to win her back and
Jack and my own brother had outfoxed me and my father had had to bail me out.
Living again with my father’s
ill-concealed irritation with me was hard. I kept busy, working at the
Pittsburgh mill, and tried to be dutiful, even agreeing to him searching for a
new bride for me. Anything to reclaim my money.
I was deeply in Father’s debt and
I hated it.
The only bright spot was that
Gerard was at odds with him, too, over his siding with the Dawsons. I supposed
I should be grateful to Gerard for stopping me from acting rashly, but I could
have cheerfully put a bullet in the gutter swine. Even Bonner had been sent
packing for his part in the plot, and now I had a new, subservient manservant
called Jenkins, who was, in all, my father’s man.
Gerard walked in the library
door, saw me and nearly turned on his heel, but reluctantly came in. He had
been avoiding me and shot me distasteful looks when we met.
"Caledon," he said,
bored. I nodded to him, holding my brandy glass. I studied him, wondering not
for the first time what his relationship with Jack and Rose was. He seemed to
have befriended them in an easy manner. Not that I could go near them. Father
had forbidden me ever to mention them again.
My sweet Rose. I would have given
her the stars if she’d asked. I had wanted and desired her since I first saw
her. Now she spent her nights in someone else’s arms, would bear someone else’s
children, and was no longer mine!
"What’s all this
about?" I asked Gerard.
"Not a clue. George
requested we all be here," Gerard replied.
As if on cue, my father came in
with Sylvie resplendent on his arm, followed by the white-bearded, erect figure
of George Harrington Smyth and Emily, both looking wary.
Gerard
Emily sat down on the settee next
to her father. I could not take my eyes off her. It had been well before
Christmas that I had spent any time with her. She was always resting or
unavailable when I called and never answered my letters. Something was not
right, I just knew. Our wedding was supposed to be in March.
Didn’t she care for me anymore? I
had not enjoyed Christmas, just spent my time worrying about her. I moped about
just like Cal seemed to be, too. He had been unusually quiet since the Chippewa
Falls episode.
She was wearing a yellow dress
and her hair was in a elaborate French twist. She looked delicate, and her skin
was so pale. She kept her eyes downcast and would not look at me.
I wanted to rush to her and make
her talk to me, but my father had started talking.
"George," he was
saying. "Can I get you anything?" George did not smile. Mother was
looking puzzled at the hostility of George and gave me a sideways glance.
Things did not bode well.
Emily said nothing and turned her
fingers over nervously in her hands. Her whole posture one of defeat. She was
going to call the engagement off. She wasn’t wearing her ring. My heart pounded
loudly. I felt sick.
"No!" George barked.
Mother took the initiative.
"Pray, what can we do for you, George, Emily?" she asked expansively,
being gracious. Father was frowning. Cal looked puzzled, sitting to one side in
a winged chair.
George stood up abruptly. "I
won’t mince my words," he said coldly, his eyes swiveling to me. Emily
looked crushed.
"You! You, boy," he
rasped at me. "Gerard Hockley, you have ruined my daughter." He went
beet red with embarrassment. Emily’s shoulders started to shake.
"What?" I gasped. What
was he saying? Mother came to my side and took my arm supportively.
My father rose as well, and
shouted, "What are you insinuating about my son?"
George matched his tone and
glared at me. "Do I have to spell it out? Your young son here had his
wicked way with my daughter before marriage." He was puce with rage now.
Emily was crying softly, but was ignored in the mêlée.
"No!" I cried, my
mother holding me roughly by the arm, pulling me back. Cal’s expression was one
of confusion. "No!" My voice shook with emotion. "I swear I have
been nothing but respectful with Emily. I have not disgraced her. Tell them,
Emily!"
Emily was silent, just crying
hard into her hands.
Caledon
While Gerard was frantically
protesting his innocence, George was yelling accusations at him, and Father was
trying to counter him, my mind was working overtime.
Was I hearing right? Emily
ruined. What did he mean? I thought back to Gerard’s party in early October of
1912.
The memory shot into my head. I
had totally forgotten about it. I had made love to Emily in the summer house. A
tryst, a conquest, inconsequential to me. She could not have been with anyone
else. She was not that sort of girl, to quote her.
George suddenly spelled out and
confirmed what we needed to hear.
"My daughter is with child!
The doctor has confirmed it!" he roared. The room fell quiet, apart from
the sound of Emily’s weeping.
"Emily!" my stepmother
demanded of Emily. "Did Gerard really touch you?" She walked over to
Emily, sat down next to her on the settee, and touched her hand.
We all watched with an awkward,
tense silence.
"Emily, my dearest,"
Sylvie said gently. "We need to know. Did Gerard and you have intimacy? If
you have, please don’t worry. We’ll bring the wedding forward. These things happen."
She shot a filthy look at my father, who was looking much put out. "We can
sort this out, Emily."
Gerard was staring at Emily with
wide, confused eyes.
"Tell them, Emily," he
said, walking towards her slowly. His voice shook but was low. "Tell them,
Emily," he repeated louder, his eyes beginning to flash. He looked
pressured, fighting an invisible demon inside.
Emily raised a tear-stained face.
Her lips quivered.
"Emily?" her father
demanded. "We are waiting."
"Please, Emily," Gerard
pleaded, knelt down in front of her, and took her hands tenderly. Fresh tears
fell from her eyes. "Tell them the truth. Tell them we have not been
intimate," Gerard whispered frantically. "I don’t understand,
Emily."
Emily suddenly ripped her hand
from Gerard’s, and he stood up and backed off. His eyes were wounded and hurt.
Her voice came, and it was raw
and bitter.
"All right," she said.
"All right. Gerard is a gentleman. We have not been intimate at any stage
of our relationship."
Sylvie burst out, "But
who?" She looked at Emily in shock. "But we all thought you loved
Gerard," she said, her voice puzzled.
Emily’s father sank into a nearby
chair, speechless.
My father snorted with anger, and
yelled, "What the blazes is going on? Explain yourself, girl!"
Emily turned her head towards me,
and I saw the intense hatred burning there. It just confirmed it.
I was as stunned as the rest. I
was going to be a father.
It was clear what I needed to do.
Rose’s memory had to be laid to rest. It was the future that counted!
Gerard
I could not breathe. I was as
stunned as if someone had punched me hard in the chest.
The girl I loved, my bride-to-be,
had just admitted out loud that she was pregnant and that it could not be mine,
as we had never been intimate. I had always respected her.
Tears stung my eyes. Mother came
back to my side, in shock herself. "Calm yourself, Gerard," she
murmured to me. I could feel myself shaking.
Emily angrily wiped tears from
her eyes, and screamed, "You all think I am a piece of trash, but it was
not like that! I..."
"Emily." Cal came
forward, took Emily by the shoulders, stared her down, and shook her gently.
What was he playing at?
His dark eyes were burning with
the same intensity as the day he tried to drag Rose away.
"We must tell them," he
was saying. "Shouldn't we, Emily?"
He released Emily’s shoulders and
she sank back into her seat, her face like a death mask.
"It’s my entire fault,
really," he said smoothly, a smile on his lips. "Emily has always
been secretly in love with myself, and we…um…I am afraid gave into our mutual
passions."
"Caledon?" my father
asked incredulously. Sylvie gasped. The blood drained from my head.
"Caledon, is this true?" Father echoed.
Cal went over to Emily and stood
with a hand on her shoulder. He looked at me mockingly.
"Yes, Father. Emily and I
had a secret affair in October, and now we are expecting our child."
"Emily? No! It can’t be
true!" I shouted at her. Her eyes flickered over to me and I saw the
hopelessness there, the shame. Cal’s expression was triumphant.
She had been with my
brother...she was my fiancée. How could he? I loved her. I loved her.
I saw red.
I ran forward towards Cal. My
father and Emily’s father restrained me.
"Gerard," I saw Emily’s
lips say silently.
"I will kill you, you
bastard!" I yelled. Cal’s smile did not waver.
"I am sorry, Gerard,"
he taunted. "She preferred me over you."
"I hate you, Cal! I’ll get
you for this. Emily, I loved you. I loved you. How could you? How could
you--with him? Emily…Emily..."
"Gerard!" my mother
shouted, tears in her eyes. "Please don’t do this."
I bit my lip, tears in my own
eyes.
"Behave!" my father
barked at me, still restraining me. George let go and surveyed us all with
dislike.
"What a disgusting turn of
events," he scoffed. "What will you do to make amends?"
Emily had tears still falling
down her face.
Caledon answered him and made my
blood freeze.
"Well, I am prepared to do
the honorable thing, now that I am released from my previous betrothal. Emily
and I will marry soon."
Emily gasped and tried to wrench herself
from Cal’s hard grip on her.
"No!" she cried.
"Father, I…"
Her father cut across her tirade,
and said, in a cold harsh tone, wagging a finger at her, "This is for the
best, daughter. You will marry Caledon here in a quiet ceremony. It will still
be a good match. You carry his bastard child, the future heir. It will be
fitting and prudent."
"No!" I shouted, trying
to go forward. "No, Emily! No!" Tears fell from my eyes. This was
agonizing. My mother was sobbing near me.
"Yes," my father
interjected. "It will be so. It’s for the best. Emily understands that,
don’t you?"
She nodded. She looked wretched.
"Brilliant," Cal was
saying. "This is such a happy occasion."
Father said to me and Mother,
"What’s done is done, son. Go pack and leave for Virginia right away.
We’ll talk at a later time. Sylvie, escort your son."
He steered me around and pushed
me out of the room. Mother went with me. I followed, broken. My last sight was
of Emily’s haunted, sad eyes. It would stay with me forever.
"To us. Mr. and Mrs.
Hockley!" I heard Cal’s happy cries in my ears.
My world as I knew it had ended.
I had to leave Crosswinds. Now, Cal had stolen the only woman I would ever
love.