Hymn To My Soul

~ CHAPTER 8 ~

The rest of the morning went by rather slowly. Silas was caught up mostly in conversation with Cal and other prominent figures like the Astors and Archibald Gracie. Lydia was glad to slip away from him for the majority of the day. He reminded her that he wanted to know wherever she was going, so she replied that she was going to grab her books and head out to a spot on the deck to read and journal. He let her go with a reluctant sigh, only appeased by the strong words of Mr Ismay who had joined their party in the Smoking Lounge. Lydia took her leave from the door and sauntered her way down to her cabin with a light hop in her step. She walked into the suite, greeting her father before swiftly snapping up her books in her arms, then disappeared down the hall toward the staircase. She couldn't contain the giddiness that invaded her chest; to go out on the deck and feel the wind against her face and allow her mind to slip into the fantastical world of her stories. Perhaps it was an escape from reality, perhaps it was just a blanket over the pain, but it was worth every minute of it.

She found a comfortable spot at the bow of the ship just above the anchor. No one except a few officers patrolled near that area so she could be completely at peace with only the roaring of the waves beneath her as music to her. The sun beamed down onto her delightfully, warming her body from the cool wind that whipped against her face. Her lips spread into a wide smile as a breath was released from her lungs, slowly and controlled. This was her peace.

She turned to her book and took her journal out, along with her pen. For the following two hours, she spent it simply writing down all that had happened since she had begun the voyage and even sketched roughly the ship's design from the various rooms. She noted her fascination with the architecture and the technological and luxury advancements that had been made to the ship. 'It was headed the Ship of Dreams in the papers,' she noted, 'and I think that it can be if my dreams for a new life can come true.' Lydia wasn't much of an artist but she couldn't help herself sketching a cartoon version of Thomas on one page and writing her deep respect and admiration for the man. She told of their first meeting after running into each other and the fact that he saved her from the jump toward death. He was more than a friend. He was her savior.

"So, you really are a writer?" That familiar voice shocked her, making her jump and whip her head around to face the very man she was writing about. There he stood behind her, her writing journal in his hands as he looked through the pages. He was in his usual attire but had a hat on this time. Lydia laughed nervously as she rose to greet him.

"You doubted me? That's disappointing." She teased, pouting her bottom lip playfully.

He chuckled and closed the book. "I can see you have an extremely creative mind. Any one of those stories is bound to be best sellers."

"They all will be." Lydia closed her personal journal and took the book from him. "I'm writing them all at the same time. They will all go out to be published. I hope that they can be best sellers, but we'll see what happens when we get to New York. Perhaps the New York Times might be interested in my work."

"I'd love to hear more about the stories from the mind of the author. Would you take a walk with me to discuss such plots?" He asked in an exaggerated manner which earned a hearty laugh from Lydia. She nodded and took his arm with her books under the other. "So, tell me. What ideas are you the most passionate about?" He inquired as they made their way along the edge of the ship.

Lydia hummed in thought. "Perhaps the one titled Roman Love Affair. That's the one I have the most motivation for when I am writing. It's a romance novel about a princess who wants to run away from her duties and eventually falls in love with a local journalist in Rome. I'm a hopeless romantic, in a sense. Ironic, I know." She nodded to herself with a bashful chuckle. Thomas smiled with a warm gaze upon her.