Into Chaos Hurled (Book 2)

One - Death of the Heart

April 1912

Peter

There is a change coming, I can feel it. Mother tells me we must always be ready for whatever the world – and life – throws at us. I'd always disregarded it, giving the statement only the barest amount of interest, until that one spring morning when Father insisted I accompany him on his walk. We were emerging from the hedge along the road when a delivery boy on a bicycle skidded to a stop next to us, waving a thin envelope out in front of him.

"Lord Dorchester?" he said, leaping off it just as the cycle went spinning off across the road.

Father took the envelope from him, turning it over a few times. "Thank you, Nigel. I shall open it over breakfast."

"Now's better, m'lud," panted Nigel, as he ran to fetch his bicycle.

"If you insist," Father said, although I could tell he wasn't taking the boy seriously. He slit the envelope open with one clean movement, pulling out the thin telegram inside. Instantly the colour drained from his face, and his entire body stiffened.

"Father?" I said, alarmed. "What is it? What's happened?"

He cleared his throat. "'R.M.S. Titanic sank two-twenty A.M. today, the fifteenth of April STOP Fifteen-hundred dead STOP Relative of Your Lordship Robert Wellington among missing STOP Body has not been recovered STOP Details to follow STOP Sincerely W. Addington.'"

"Uncle Robert?" It took a moment for me to speak after his voice trailed off. "We must tell Mother."

"If she doesn't know already," Father said, his tone unusually gruff. Immediately he spun on his heel and started up the drive. I tossed a thank you over my shoulder at Nigel and then hurried to catch up.

Mr Lowell, our butler, was already at the door when we arrived, his eyes moving between us. Somehow he must have sensed the change in the air.

"Milord?" he said, sounding confused at Father's agitated state. "What–"

"It's Robert," Father replied curtly, striding past Lowell and into the house, undoubtedly to find Mother busy at whatever task she was doing.

"Mr Robert?" Lowell swivelled on his heel as I entered. "What about him?"

"The Titanic," I said, and that was all the explanation he needed.

"Lord save us." Lowell paled, flattening one hand on the wall and the other on his chest.

I said nothing. Great-grandmama and my sister Charlotte – Lottie – already had the news in the morning papers. I wasn't all that worried about my great-grandmother. She was still sharp as a tack and nothing seemed to faze her. After what Mother had called the dark days of the Elementals, she'd probably had to be. It was my sister, on the other hand, who was fragile. She was a timid child and shy around company, not to mention highly sensitive. An odd pair they made, really.

"I suppose I should go in and see about Lottie," I said once Lowell had mostly recovered. I suspected it was for the benefit of the second footman, Oscar, approaching the dining room now with a fresh tea setting.

"Yes, I agree." Lowell gave Oscar a look as he passed, in a nothing-to-see-here-move-along kind of way. "I suspect she'll be wanting some comfort. Needing it, I say."

"Petey!" Lottie's head popped up the moment I entered, her bright green eyes shining. "The ship...did you hear? It's awful..."

"I must admit I'm having a hard time processing it myself." I shuddered at the headline, saying the death toll was climbing into the hundreds now.