Free Me

Prologue

 

In the dim light of her state room, he possessed her thoughts. Her bed was untouched, and tomorrow's emerald green satin and lace dress was hung on the wardrobe, ready for tomorrow’s festivities. A new frock designed by the finest Parisian seamstresses and she was completely unfazed by the notion.

Dinner that evening had been a long affair; her eyes had been so transfixed on the chair where he had sat the evening before and stolen the attention of every respectable person present. If high society hadn't agreed with his presence at the table, they had remained quiet and enjoyed his company; allowing him to share his stories as they sat with curious eyes and knowing smiles, listening to his every word. The words of a man scores younger than they, yet a man who spoke with such sincerity, honesty, and gratefulness that it made one question their own contribution to society; to life.

He didn’t shy away from the wicked glare of her mother, the watchful gaze of Caledon Hockley and then there had been her own; she had watched him with awe...

He had become the light in her dull and ill life. After enduring two painful hours in her world, he had taken her into his; an entirely separate life which existed just a few decks below her feet. The poor accepted her, danced with her, and so did he.

Jack Dawson.

Rose closed her eyes and allowed herself to indulge in the dance they had shared, so close and so personal. She hadn't known this world had existed and truth be told, she never wanted to leave. His hands were upon her waist; soft but firm. His fingers were so rough to touch, obviously workers' hands or artists' hands. They were used to create and have purpose but they almost caressed her softly. Her breathing had hitched, and butterflies had broken free inside her stomach.

He affected her...

When she had reached her own world again, the light had faded and he had been right; the fire inside her did burn out and yet his words affected her in such a way she never thought possible. He loved her fire; he had offered her a hand into another world and yet all she had heard was her mother's shrill warning to never seen him again. Cal's anger had frightened her at breakfast, and so she had walked away from him and hadn't looked back. She had declined lunch and remained absent-minded since.

Jack had sought her out that afternoon to declare how profound his feelings were, his words tickling her ears and she had never heard anything as sweet but she couldn't indulge in such a thing and so she had left him there, alone. His head had bowed, and she sensed he fought whether or not to follow her, but he hadn’t. She had wanted to seek him out, but it would be inevitable the next step. It was close to happening in the gymnasium.

He would kiss her...

A faint shudder overcame her and then she noticed the beading on her bedroom chandelier tremble. Her wooden desk seemed to vibrate, and then the shudder came harder once more, almost moving her chair.

It was juddering. Like scraping of metal...then nothing.

Rose blinked. Once, twice...

Had she imagined it?

Her mother's voice in the sitting room ensured she hadn't imagined such a thing. A feeling overcame her, one of pure dread.

Something serious had happened.