THE HEART GOES ON
Chapter Four
Late September, 1912
Cal
I was sitting in the garden,
smoking, one late September evening and was waiting for Bonner to come to me.
He had been to New York to speak to Mr. Fisher of the detective agency my
father had employed to track down Rose. After the dinner party where my father
had ridiculed me in front of Sylvie and Gerard, I kept out of their way,
spending my days sleeping, walking, going to the club, and drinking to excess
to dull the anger brewing inside me.
The Titanic had taken my life and
turned it upside down. Before it, I was rich, respected, an heir to millions,
on the cusp of marrying a nubile, spirited, flame-haired temptress with
everything I could ever possibly want. Now, it was all gone. Gerard was
prancing about with his twenty-year-old blonde china doll fiancée, Emily,
Sylvie crowing about their coming wedding, and I had to endure my father’s
wrath and contempt with no certainty of inheriting anything and Rose long gone.
The thought of marriage to me was
anomic to her, and I did not understand why. I had tried so hard with that
girl--whisked her off her feet, bought her those absurd paintings, spent money
and bought gifts for her. And still she denied me.
Argued with me, showed me up,
rebelled, but for all that fire, she was as cold as ice with me. Oh, I had tried
to be loving. Bought her that necklace and gave it her as a wedding gift. And
she threw it back in my face.
I ground my cigarette into the
dirt and my hands curled into fists. I could still feel the astonishment and
anger now as I had discovered the drawing of her nude, wearing my necklace.
Drawn by that gutter rat.
I smashed my fist into my leg.
Angry, hot tears stung my eyes, anger coursing through me. She could give
herself to that steerage trash and not to me, even jumping back on the ship and
rushing back to him to die with him, if needed, made me a fool, and no one did
that to me!
And the necklace…I hadn’t told
Father about that yet. He would burst a vein if he knew. I had to get Rose
back, and the necklace, too.
The sight of Bonner’s short,
squat body coming to me stopped me short. I stood up and breathed heavily.
"Well, man, what do you have
to say for yourself?" I barked.
Bonner replied, "We have a
trail, sir. Ruth DeWitt Bukater was seen traveling with Molly Brown,
destination California. There is a clerk in her office who spilled that. And
the best bit…" Bonner raised his shoulders up and looked smug.
"What?" I shouted.
"There was somebody that
sneaked a look at the official Titanic survivor list. There was a Rose Dawson
listed, sir. Third class."
My head started to swim. The
awful realization made me go hot all over. It was so obvious!
Rose Dawson. The little tart had
taken his name when we docked at Pier 54. She had gone to Jack. He was alive.
Ruth knew where Rose was, and that was where that Dawson garbage was, too.
I grabbed Bonner’s lapels with
both hands and shook him. "We are going to California, Bonner. That is
where the slut is. We find the mother, we find them. Get train tickets for
tomorrow."
Bonner was shocked by my
violence.
"But sir!" he
exclaimed, and stepped back, dusting himself down. "We have Mr. Gerard’s
fiancée here tonight at your step mama’s soiree. You have to attend. Mr.
Hockley, Sr. insists."
"Tomorrow we leave!" I
snapped. "I’ll get this party out of the way first if I don’t have a
choice."
Again being dictated to by Father
like I was ten. I would show him and Gerard that I would not be played with.
*****
The music spilled out of the
ballroom. I was standing by the palms, watching the comings and goings of the
guests.
I was sipping wine and watching
my brother waltzing with Emily.
I hadn’t had the chance to study
her before. She was nothing special, twenty years old like Gerard, insipid fine
blonde hair, limpid blue eyes, and a slim, childlike figure. She looked like a
little girl.
Her blonde head was close to
Gerard’s brown head. Gerard seemed taken with her. Oh, Gerard. Golden boy. His
eyes fixed on her as they danced. She was laughing, and he was pleased. Oh, he
pleased everyone. They flitted to the dance steps well. They belonged.
Rose had never danced with me
like that. Lovejoy, my dead valet, had said he had followed her down to
steerage on the ship and watched her dance with him--that Jack--and smoke,
drink, and laugh.
I felt in torment watching them.
Rose and I could have been like that. I had to win her back. She would have her
price. Everyone did. I was getting more and more morose and drunk, people
avoiding my hard eyes and the belligerence that sat on me these days.
The music ceased, and my father
was standing up and making a speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I
have an announcement…blah blah blah…" He twittered about his precious
Gerard and doll-like Emily. I was about to leave and have a cigarette when my
father said something which stopped me dead in my tracks and made my blood run
cold.
"On the commencement of the
marriage of dear Gerard and Emily, I will bequeath half of the holdings of
Hockley mills to my dear, dutiful son, Gerard." I inhaled deeply and ran
from the room. No one saw me. I ran outside, feeling sick. I ran all the way
down to the summer house and vomited violently.
My father was leaving half of
everything to that brother of mine, the French trollop’s son. No! No! My father
couldn’t do this. It was mine. The Hockley fortune was mine!
I drunkenly slumped down behind
the summer house. It was over. Everything I had ever wanted was gone, and the
Titanic was to blame. I had done nothing wrong.
Sometime later, I heard a low
humming sound. I stood up, and from the shadows, I saw Emily Harrington Smyth
walking towards me, alone, her pink dress fluttering in the breeze.
"Ah…good evening," I
said, appearing.
She gasped and looked at me.
"Caledon, what are you doing out here?" she asked, and fluttered
blonde lashes at me.
"Just taking the air. What
about you?" I soothed.
"Oh, just getting some air,
too. I got so hot. Gerard is celebrating and is a bit tipsy. I said I would be
back in ten minutes."
Oh, I bet he was celebrating his
luck, taking what was mine.
Anger boiled over in me. Everyone
took what was mine. Well, I would have to take something that wasn’t mine.
"Come and sit with me in the
summer house," I said to Emily, taking her arm gently. She smiled at me.
Trusting child.
She followed me into the darkness
of the summer house.
I pulled her to me before she had
time to do anything and slammed my lips onto hers, kissing her hard. She tried
to squeal, but I put my hand over her mouth and ordered her to be quiet.
Rose might have denied me. No
girl ever would again.