A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
Chapter Twenty-Seven

Isolde spent the rest of the day avoiding Harold. She wanted to go back and apologize, yet at the same time, she wanted him to apologize to her. Stubbornly, she sat in the Smith sisters’ stateroom. The door suddenly opened and the room filled with the sound of giggling. The sisters had arrived.

Isolde did not protest as she was changed into a tea gown. It was a pale green with crème trim. After everyone was finished, they made their way towards the main dining hall for the second time that day.

No escorts were necessary this time. Isolde and the Smith sisters had a table to themselves. But within moments, Molly Brown, Mrs. Astor, and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater had joined them. Edith welcomed them openly.

"So," Molly Brown began loudly, causing the other women in the room to look at their table in disdain. "Who are you?"

Edith cut in before Isolde could. "This is Anne Olen."

"I don’t believe we saw you aboard the first few days," Rose’s mother said with her nose tilted upward.

"True," Mrs. Astor agreed.

"Well," Isolde said quickly, "I was ill at first. I didn’t leave the room until my first appearance at supper the other night."

"I find it quite…improper for a young woman to travel without the escort of a gentleman," Rose’s mother said with disapproval.

"But of course she’s accompanied," Elizabeth said, laughing to break the silence. "She’s traveling with us."

"How do you know each other?" she asked, obviously suspicious.

Erica smiled at this. "Anne attended London’s Academy of Drama with me. She’s joining us for the upcoming season."

Molly Brown clapped Isolde on the back. "I say she’s a fine lady. Stop scrutinizing her already, Ruth."

A trumpeting came from somewhere within the ship, signaling that supper would be arriving soon. The women all said their good-byes with forced politeness. Edith turned in the direction of their stateroom.

Without questioning, they followed her to the stateroom. They finished dressing in full gowns. The Smith sisters tried to make Isolde sport beautiful diamonds, but she kindly refused. They left the room to be fashionably late for supper when they were suddenly stopped just outside the stateroom door.

Cal Hockley stood before them with a half smile slipping onto his face. He was in a full tuxedo of the highest fashion. "Ladies," he greeted.

"Mr. Hockley," Edith said stiffly. "How may we help you?"

He was still smiling. "I was hoping that Miss Olen would accompany me to dinner this evening in the Parisian Café."

Isolde looked him in the eye. There was something hidden, something cruel. He looked at her intently.

Isolde smiled. "Let me think on it."

"But how can I allow that when our reservations are set for a few moments from now?" he asked.

Isolde looked at the Smith sisters. "Would you allow me a few moments with Mr. Hockley? If I don’t come to dinner, you’ll know that I’ve joined him."

Edith’s answer was forced. "I suppose."

"Thank you," Cal said. He waved as the Smith sisters walked away and until they were out of sight. "Finally." Cal turned to tower over Isolde. His smile was cruel.

"What do you want?" Isolde asked angrily. "Do you enjoy chasing ladies that you’ll never have?"

"Isolde..." Cal said, as though disappointed.

She froze. But then, composed, she said, "It’s Anne. Miss Olen to you."

"I believe it’s Isolde," he said plainly. "And I wouldn’t be chasing unless I knew I could catch you."

"What do you really want?" Isolde asked straightforwardly.

He smiled. "Rose has left me for death. I am in need of a wife."

Isolde laughed. "A wife? I am sorry, but you are after the wrong person."

"Am I? I should think that it’d be appealing to be on the arm of a wealthy, handsome husband," Cal replied casually. "Especially a whore such as yourself."

"Excuse me, Mr. Hockley," Isolde interrupted. "I don’t know who you think yourself to be, but it is certainly not a gentleman."

Isolde began to storm off when he caught her by the arm and roughly turned her. "I know of the things you do. They certainly aren’t appropriate. You and Officer Lowe might ring a bell." She glared up into his face. He simply chuckled. "I’ve had the pleasure of looking through your registration on the Titanic, Isolde Eiry Conway. I don’t think the captain would be happy to discover you stowed away in the first class area."

"You wouldn’t dare!" Isolde exclaimed.

Cal Hockley grabbed her arm and looped it within his own. "I might refrain if you join me for dinner in cooperation."

"Fine!" Isolde snapped, pulling her arm away. "But you shall not lay a hand upon me!"

Cal laughed as he led her into the Parisian Café. They were sat in a corner away from the others. Isolde had to admit to herself that it was quite lovely. She still glared at Cal, but turned it into a polite smile as the young waiter arrived. He said something in French that Isolde could not understand.

Cal responded as though it were nothing. "La dame et moi aurons le poulet aguerri avec les légumes frais."

The waiter left. "Controlling, are we?"

"Most girls attending finishing school are taught to speak fluent French," he informed her. "Proof that you do not belong here."

"Yet you want marriage from me?"

He smirked. "I could create a name for you. You seem to have created a false past already."

The food was served. Isolde barely touched it. Cal kept to the alcohol. Supper was finished soon enough, though nothing was said.

Cal rose from the table and offered an arm; she refused. In the main area, Cal finally spoke. "I hope you will consider my offer. Perhaps you will realize what I can provide for you."

"Consider it refused," Isolde said in a sarcastically cheerful voice.

Cal sneered. He stalked away towards what was probably another large glass of brandy. Sighing in relief, Isolde walked back to the stateroom. It was empty. The Smith sisters were probably at supper still. After changing into her favorite nightgown, she sat in one of the plush chairs, simply thinking. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

Isolde blindly reached for her newly acquired robe and quickly threw it on. She had just finished tying the sash when she opened the door. She was surprised to see Harold still in officer’s attire.

"Um…" she began nervously. She attempted to pull the robe tighter around herself.

He slipped through the door and shut it behind him. With crossed arms, he leaned against it. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

Isolde raised an eyebrow. "Trying to make you jealous?"

"Miss Smith informed me that you joined Mr. Hockley for supper," he said simply. "I didn’t know I had made you that upset, to the point of being driven to other men."

"I didn’t want to!" Isolde exclaimed.

"Truly?"

"You heard me at brunch!" she said clearly. "I do not like that man!"

"Then why did you go?"

Isolde frowned. "You’re not going to be pleased. He seems to be attracted to me…"

Harold stepped towards her. His face was stern. "How attracted?"

"He wants me to marry him," she mumbled. She saw his look of shock, then suspicion. "You don’t trust me, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Harold retorted. "It is Hockley I don’t trust."

Isolde eyed him for a moment. "And you’re right not to trust him. He’s done a little research on my past. He knows. And he saw us."

Harold took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "And he’ll certainly use it for his own purposes, meaning you will have to be cooperative to some extent."

Isolde nodded. Harold suddenly placed a hand on the side of her face. His eyes were soft and kind, the only way Isolde liked them to be. He leaned down and kissed her. Isolde couldn’t pull away. She had been longing for this. Their fights seemed so trivial now.

Harold had just deepened the kiss when the door burst open and the sound of girlish gasps filled the air. Harold’s hands were still cupping Isolde’s face when he pulled away to those staring upon him. Isolde slipped away. She was blushing terribly. Nervously, she tucked her hair behind one ear.

"I’ll see you tomorrow at noon," Harold whispered in her ear. He placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Tipping his hat to the Smith sisters, he said, "Good night."

As quickly as he had come, he was out the door. Isolde was still blushing as Elizabeth pushed her to a chair. "Tell!" she exclaimed.

"It was nothing," Isolde mumbled.

"It was something!" Erica corrected.

Isolde pulled her knees to her chest and shook her head. "We had a fight. He apologized."

The girls sighed. "One to leave out the details," Elizabeth said sadly. "Leaving us to imagine."

"Her response was proper," Edith corrected. "Come. Let’s get to bed. We have brunch tomorrow."

Isolde rolled into the plush cushions. She was still blissfully thinking about Harold.

April 14, 1912

Brunch went fairly well, and then everything went sour. Isolde was on her way to meet Harold when she was stopped by Cal Hockley.

"I’d like you to join me for supper," Cal said in a straightforward fashion. "And to stop seeing Officer Lowe."

Isolde laughed. "You can’t prevent me from seeing him."

"If you wish to remain a free passenger," he responded, "then you will." She was walking away when he called after her. "I shall escort you from your room at eight."

Isolde scowled and hurried off. She made her way to the stern quickly and pulled Harold into the shadows. He looked at her with worry.

He placed his hands on her shoulders. "What has happened?"

"It is Hockley," she whispered. "He threatens to turn me over to the captain unless I stop seeing you. And he commands that I attend supper with him this evening."

Harold looked at her and sighed. He kissed the top of her head lightly and pulled her into a tight embrace. "He cannot stop us. We shall continue to meet in the steerage areas at night."

"He will find us!"

Harold laughed softly into her ear. "He shall not. Meet me at the steerage party after supper." Isolde looked at him with doubt. "Have faith in me. I will come searching for you if you do not show tonight."

A ship’s bell was heard. "You must work," Isolde confirmed sadly, laying her head on his chest. "I cannot wait for this voyage to be done with."

Harold cupped her face in her hands. He kissed her softly upon the lips. "Until this evening."

Isolde nodded and watched him as he reluctantly walked away to his duties.

*****

Isolde glared at Mr. Hockley when she opened the door. The Smith sisters had gone to supper only moments before.

"Miss Olen," he greeted sarcastically, forcefully looping her arm within his.

She didn’t respond, ignoring the alcohol that tainted his breath. Isolde did not speak throughout all of supper. Cal glared at her in frustration.

After an hour of silence, Cal grabbed her hand and yanked her from the room. The others that were dining chose to ignore this, knowing it to be improper to meddle in private affairs.

Mr. Hockley steered Isolde into a hallway she had not seen. It was even more luxurious than the Smiths’. Isolde tried to pull from Cal’s grip. He only held on more tightly.

"Help!" Isolde called out loudly. No one came. There was no one to come to her aid when she so desperately needed it.

Cal placed a hand over her mouth and yanked her into the stateroom, slamming and locking the door behind them. Isolde noticed the paintings scattered everywhere. She guessed that they had once been beautiful, but now they were marred with holes in the shape of fists, slashed with what seemed to be nails. Half-empty glasses were set everywhere, filled with what she assumed was brandy.

Cal roughly took a swig from a decanter. He shoved Isolde onto a loveseat. She glared at him. He laughed coldly.

"You think you can make a fool of me," he accused. "But you cannot if the world is not there to view your actions."

"Let me have my leave," Isolde said calmly.

He sneered and stormed off to another room. Coming back, he held a precious necklace of diamonds in hand. A blue, heart-shaped gem hung from it. He tossed it at her.

"Put it on and show them you accept my offer of marriage." Isolde shook her head. "Put it on!" he bellowed at her. She remained there motionless, in silence.

"I am already to be married to another," she whispered to him fiercely.

He laughed at this. "My offer is more tempting." He stepped out of the room with key in hand. "I expect you to have that necklace on by the time I return." With that, he exited the room.

Isolde heard the click of the lock, pulled her knees to her chest, and cried softly. She had no escape. Grasping the necklace in her hand, she flung it across the room. She would never accept Cal’s offer. Never.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Stories