AN: Well, this chapter will make this the longest work I have ever written. More than likely this will end up being over 100,000 words, which sounds daunting but also kind of exciting. This chapter I particularly enjoyed writing. I hope you all have a Happy New Year!
The weekend proved to be some slight relief from the constant pressure the inquiry had become. I was able to sleep half the day away before Peggy came in to hustle me out of bed. She still was unused to seeing Will there, but having won the battle over mourning clothes, she wasn't going to fight it any more. For now, at least. Will had slipped out after breakfast, his new clothes waiting across the hall. Apparently Charles had gone to the inquiry, while the other officers had decided to take some time and see the city. I had moved the breakfast dishes to her tray, but Peggy stayed in my rooms though. "Miss, are you sure about him?"
I shook my head, "Peggy, after what we've been through I would trust Mr. Murdoch with my life." I moved to my vanity, "I will need you to send word around to the rail yard, the inquiry is moving down to Washington and I'm going with them in our car, so I will need a trunk packed and all our luggage ready to go tomorrow morning."
"Leaving tomorrow, that's quite fast Miss." Peggy grumbled as she set out a fresh set of underthings. "Why can't they just keep it here?"
"I have no idea Peggy, but I'm not going to let them go there alone." She came over to the vanity, and I could see that she wanted to ask something. "What is it, Peggy?"
"Miss, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but why are you so concerned about them?" Her voice was quiet, and she twisted her hands around each other. "It's not that they're not wanted, or that I think they should be thrown out, but I just don't understand."
I sighed, "It's alright Peggy. I suppose it's rather odd looking when you weren't there." I gestured for her to sit, and she moved to the bed. "They helped save all of us, and I had gotten to know several of them on the voyage. I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't offer them our hospitality." I caught her eye, "And Mr. Murdoch received Father's permission to court me, before the sinking."
"If he's a suitor, then he really shouldn't be sleeping in your bed." Peggy shook her head, "Imagine if the thought entered his head to take advantage of you-"
"Peggy!" I cut her off, "He has been nothing but respectful and kind, you will not make that assumption again." I didn't like to raise my voice, or to see her cringe slightly. I had never been one to treat my staff harshly, but I had to be firm on that. I softened my tone as I continued, "When we were on the rescue ship, if I did not have him by me when I slept I would begin screaming from the nightmares I suffered. Please, I want you to understand that is the only reason he has been staying in my rooms."
"I'm sorry Miss," She spoke quickly, ducking her head. "It wasn't any of my business, I shouldn't have asked."
"It's alright Peggy, things aren't exactly settled at the moment." I moved to sit by her, "You are only concerned, that's nothing to be ashamed about." I saw her smile at that, but we both looked up when my sitting room door opened.
A maid entered, bearing a calling card on a silver tray. "Miss, the Reichsters have sent their card around." I walked to her, taking the card from the tray. I looked at it, the perfectly printed black lettering raised against the cream paper. It was a well made card, the edges gilded. I wished nothing more than to throw it into the fire and let the flames consume it. But, as much as I wanted to, I could not. It would cause talk to refuse to see them, so soon after a tragedy we had both been through. And I wanted nothing more than to avoid gossip at the moment.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed, "Thank you, please see them in and set the parlor for tea. Oh, and please let Mr. Murdoch know I will need him as an escort." The girl bobbed a curtsy and withdrew, and I moved to my dressing room. I pulled out a high necked black bombazine, something that I could don myself. The only ornament I took for it was a large jet brooch to fasten at its high collar. Peggy was quick about getting me laced in to my underthings, the dress I was able to handle on my own, and Peggy managed to get the brooch pinned without catching my skin. She sniffed as she brought a pair of jet earrings over, "Calling on a woman in mourning, absolutely unthinkable."
I slipped them through my on, feeling her begin to pull my hair up. "Well, perhaps they're just coming to give their condolences. It seems everyone is right now."
"Do you think Zachary will be there? Your father forbid him the house after what happened."
"I don't want to take a chance, Mr. Murdoch will be more than willing to defend me." I looked at myself in the mirror, my hair piled up in various twists that were pinned to provide some volume to it. I gingerly touched below my eyes, a slight dark ring underneath them. I used a bit of powder to hide them, only looking over when I heard the door open again.
Will came in, the new dove gray suit he had been bought actually looked quite dapper on him, marred only by the mourning band he wore on his arm. I never asked him who it was specifically for, I had a feeling it would be there long past the usual end of a mourning period. I watched him nod to Peggy, coming over to my dressing table. His face was more composed than it had been last night, his blue eyes bright, and he managed a smile before he offered me his arm. His Scottish brogue was more evident in his speech, "I take it you weren't expecting callers?"
I let him draw me up, squeezing his fingers. "I was barely expecting to be awake." I gave him a strained smile, "But no, I was not expecting callers. Especially them"
"They must feel quite full of themselves to show up here." Will pulled me closer, holding the door for me as we stepped out. "I can't quite believe it."
I took his arm and drew myself up tall while we walked downstairs, praying that I would not find some reason to throw the tea service in their faces. "They are absolutely horrid, Will." We entered the parlor, with its wide windows that looked out onto the small yard and street. A standing clock ticked quietly away in the corner, a fire blazed merrily in the grate, and the family I so desperately did not want to see was on the other side of the table. They looked as if they had merely had a trying week instead of survived a shipwreck, their clothing clean and pressed, not a hair out of place.
And with no signs of mourning, not even a black armband on the men or a piece of jet jewelry on Samantha. To show no sign of mourning, it was as if they had chosen to ignore the tragedy that had happened. I did my best to keep my voice level as I entered, "Mr. and Mrs. Reichster, Zachary. Please, join us." Will took the chair next to mine as I busied myself with the silver tea service, pouring us both cups and filling three for our guests.
Mr. Reichster took a sip before speaking. "Anastasia, you must let me tell you how deeply sorry we are to have heard about Gareth's passing. He was a rival, but I did consider him to be a friend."
"That's kind of you to say." I replied, sipping my own tea. "I hope you all have recovered from what has happened."
Mrs. Reichster smiled widely, her hand waving whatever feelings she felt away. "Oh, it was nothing more than a little outdoors adventure! My friends have all been pestering me to write the papers and share our story."
"I would be glad to hear your story too." Will's voice was brittle, and his teacup rattled against the saucer until he placed it back on the table. "So many stories happened that night."
"Well, keep an eye out! I'm thinking about the Journal, the Times is a bit too hard for my set." She laughed a little at the end, "In fact, I've got a reporter, Frank Reading I believe, coming over tomorrow. Perhaps you could come and share your story, Anastasia? I'm sure it would sell a thousand papers, and perhaps you could even write a book!"
I put my own cup down. "I'm sorry, I'm not ready."
"My dear, you do need to tell it soon, before people start telling it for you." Her eyes cut quickly to Will, and then back to me. The smile she wore widened, and it was turning into a sneer quite quickly. I wearily blinked, Will's presence at this meeting, by my side, would be known by the evening papers then. More than likely our time on the Carpathia too. And all sorts of rumors would start.
I picked up a small cookie, and took a bite before I answered. "And I shall, just as soon as everything has settled down some."
"Yes," Zachary cut in, his voice slick as he stared at me. His eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed, and I could swear I could smell the whiskey on his breath. "It must be so unsettling to have so many men in your house. But I'm sure you're managing to entertain all of them on your own."
I heard Will's hand hit the arm of his chair, and I fear he would have stood and thrown Zachary bodily out of the window if I had not reached over and gently held his hand. I smiled blandly at Zachary, "I find it enlivening, and they have been such good friends. Especially Mr. Murdoch here," I gave Will a smile, hoping it was not to strained. "It is a comfort to be surrounded by so many good people when undergoing a trial like this."
"Yes, a trial." Zachary mused, "I'm sure it must feel that way to you especially, Mr. Murdoch. But it should be good practice for the trial that you will no doubt face after the inquiry."
At that point I stood, any decorum forgotten. I had thought I would have screamed, but instead my voice was flat and cold, the politeness icy. "If you speak that way to him again I will have you thrown out. Do you understand, Zachary?"
"He should be on trial." Zachary stood, both of us facing off over the tea table. Whereas I was cold, he was hot, his voice strained and veins bulging in his neck. I could see his green eyes dart from Will back to me, the blotchy red on his cheeks. "He crashed the ship, he's the reason all those people are dead. And he should be shot for it!"
I slapped him then, straight across the face. I wasn't even aware of it until I heard the crack of my hand against his cheek and felt the stinging of my palm. I knew it must not have hurt too much, but he stepped back in shock. His mother leapt to her feet with a little cry, her hands coming up to comfort Zachary. I was shaking at this point, and I desperately wanted to scream the curses I had heard Lowe and the other sailors use. To call Zachary a fucking bastard, a whoreson piece of shit. Anything to get him away.
His father stayed seated, but when he spoke his voice was cold. "Samantha, take Zachary back out to the carriage. He is obviously unwell."
"But Father, you know I'm right!"
"Henry, be reasonable! She just attacked your son." Samantha had summoned some tears, blubbering slightly. "We should be calling the police!"
"I said, out." Mr. Reichster watched as the two of them, after some more bluster, made their way out of the parlor and then picked his tea back up. I looked down at him, as he calmly finished his tea before he spoke. "My son is wrong, Mr. Murdoch. You did all you could to save the ship. God can ask no more of any man than to do all that he can." He stood, brushing a bit of crumb off of his jacket. "I fear you have broken Zachary though, Anastasia. To see you with him." He nodded at Will, "He had his heart set on you."
I felt Will reach up and take my hand, lending me some strength. "Your son lost whatever chance he had with me long ago. He is not welcome in any Dalian house or business, ever. Do not come to the funeral, any of you."
"Very well," Mr. Reichster held out his hand, "I shall be very curious to see how your business does, the reading of your father's will should be especially enlightening. Perhaps I will come for tea again after it has been read."
I shook it, and it felt like shaking hands with Death. I kept my voice firm. "Do not worry yourself about it, Mr. Reichster. I shall see that everything continues on course." He ambled away, leaving me with Will. The clocked ticked away as I slowly sat back down, this time on Will's knees. The anger that had filled me had fled, and I felt my hands shake slightly as I placed my hands on his cheeks, and kissed him strongly, feeling his hands hold me. "He's a liar Will, he always has been. I should have done more than slapped him. Don't listen to a word he said." The last thing I wanted was for Will to take what Zachary said to heart. There was no way Will would actually face a trial, he wasn't even an American citizen.
Will's lips moved to my ears. "Seeing you hit him was worth what he said." He kissed at my neck them, and I drew my hands up to hold him tight against me, running my fingers through his hair. I heard him chuckled at that, his lips moving up my neck.
The feeling of his lips on my skin was delightful, and I whispered to him, "Will, God it felt so good to hit him." I felt his teeth graze my skin, "Mmm, Will. Please," I begged, not exactly knowing what I wanted him to do. I felt him nip at me, and I giggled slightly. It tickled. I moved up from his knees to his lap, wrapping my arms around him. All I wanted was go go upstairs with him and draw the shades, cocoon ourselves away from the world for just a day.
There was a click of a door lock, and Will and I quickly scrambled away from each other. I tugged at the neck of my dress, and I saw Will running his fingers through his hair to comb it. Peggy came in, busying herself with collecting the tea service. "Well, the rail yard will have the car attached to the 11:30 train for Washington, and I've arranged for a truck to come and take the trunks behind the carriages. Mr. Keller sent over some papers he wants you to sign before you leave, and the Reverend will be here in a few hours, too."
"Thank-" I coughed, my voice still slightly deep from kissing Will. I felt myself blush, "Thank you Peggy. Could you send word to the lawyers that I would like to meet them next Saturday when we return to begin going over the will?" She looked from me to Will and shook her head slightly, but nodded to me and moved out. I sighed, embarrassment rising in me. I enjoyed kissing him, enjoyed the touch of his hand on me, but the thought of her finding us as we were before, she would be furious. It wasn't as if I was ashamed of kissing him, but I wanted it to just be for us, for it to be private. I heard Will come behind the chair I was in, his arms slipping around me.
His lips brushed against my ear, "Shall we retire back to your rooms? Or perhaps you could give me a tour?"
I actually moaned at that, the slight whisper of wind against my ear and the thought of spending the rest of the day kissing Will until we were breathless. I would like nothing more, to lose myself in him and forget everything for awhile. I shook my head though, there was just too much. "A tour perhaps, I don't think the Reverend will be pleased to see you here. He's dreadfully old fashioned."
Will chuckled, "Well, perhaps I should hide myself away then."
"There's a library on the sixth floor, feel free to make use of it." I smiled up at him, "I shouldn't be too long, but I will need to go over those papers." He pressed a kiss to my forehead before heading out. I sighed, standing up and brushing down my skirt. A few crumbs had clung to it and I shook it out to dislodge them. Mother would love to hear what had happened, and I hoped that she would be willing to come to the phone. The one in the Fifth Avenue house was newer than the phone we had here, and it took me a minute to find it in the parlor.
I was hoping the butler would have answered, but Morgan's voice came out of the speaker, "Hello?"
"Hello Morgan, how is Mother?" I spoke slowly, the receiver was always rather scratchy. I was glad to talk to Morgan though, I hadn't heard from her in months.
"She's been sleeping most of the time. I make sure she eats and exercises." She sighed, "It is rough on her, she loved your father so much."
"I know, it hasn't exactly been easy over here either." I rubbed at my temples, "I am going to follow the inquiry down to Washington tomorrow, but I'm expecting to be back up next Saturday. I'm hopeful we can have the funeral that Sunday, the Reverend is coming over today."
"That's awfully soon, Anastasia. Have," She paused for a moment, "Have they found him?"
There was a wrenching in my heart, "They won't Morgan. I've heard that he," My voice broke then, "He stayed inside the ship. So it's going to be an empty coffin."
I heard her sniff loudly on the other side, "That's, that's horrible."
"I know, please don't tell Mother. It will be hard enough as it is."
"Should I let her know that you're leaving town?"
I steadied myself for a moment, "Maybe after I've left. I may have done something this afternoon that might cause a slight scandal, so I'm thinking a retreat from the city at this moment might be for the best."
"What did you do?"
I felt myself grin, "I slapped Zachary Reichster and forbid his family from the funeral."
Her laughter loudly echoed out of the speaker, "Oh, that will make your Mother quite happy. In fact, I'm going to tell her now. Goodbye!"
"Goodbye, Morgan." I slipped the speaker back into its cradle. The stairs seemed daunting, but I drew my skirts up and climbed. The sixth floor had always been something of a masculine retreat in our house, all dark wood and leather. I stopped by the library, the door cracked open. Will was sat in an armchair, a book in his hand as he looked out at the harbor. I smiled, it seemed so right for him to be there. He looked like he belonged. I moved slowly away, not wanting to bother him. Father's office was paneled in dark stained oak, the walls painted a bright green where they weren't hidden behind various photographs and paintings. It was dark, the curtains drawn and the electric lights flickering low. I turned them up as I stepped in.
I ran my hand across the cherry desk, considering it and the leather swivel chair behind it. Old papers had been strewn across it, the freshly delivered ones stacked in a corner. An ashtray, a cigar still resting in it, sat close to the edge of the desk. Part of me didn't want to move a thing, to leave it as Father had left it. I looked away from it, but it seemed everywhere I looked I could see Father. The photograph taken of the three of us at a ship launching, the pile of shipping magazines and registers on the bookshelves. Portraits and pictures of Mother and I, or Father and I, or just myself. Even the cut crystal glasses and decanter of brandy, God I could even smell his cologne. I sat down heavily in his chair, feeling a few tears begin to fall. I allowed myself five minutes to cry, to miss him and wish he was here, but then I began to work. Otherwise I would have sat there all afternoon, pitying myself.
I collected the loose papers, organizing them as best I could. I moved the ashtray and cigar to a side table, and I picked up a pen and inkwell from a drawer. I placed these by the blotter, moving to the curtains. I opened them wide, coughing slightly as some dust was disturbed. With light to work with I sat down at the desk, drawing the papers to me. A letter on top from Mr. Keller described what he had sent and what I needed to sign. I patiently read through them, contracts for ship repairs, new agreements from clients, and a request for additional funding for a ship being constructed at the New York Shipyard. I signed those that Mr. Keller had indicated, and spent a good deal of time considering the plans that the shipyard had sent over.
The new ship was simple in her design, but it did have an allotment of passenger cabins in addition to the cargo holds. Some of our ships did take on passengers, mainly tradesmen and salesmen who made the trips often and did not care too much if it was in luxury. I moved past those on the plans, noting the refrigerated holds and how they were to be placed far away from the boilers. I must have been absorbed for I actually started when Peggy opened the door and stepped in, a man in a clerical collar behind her.
"The reverend is here, Miss. For the arrangements." She nodded to the reverend as she left. Reverend Johnson was an upright man of the cloth, literally. I had never seen the man slouch in the years we had been attending his church.
I stood and took his hand. "Reverend Johnson, please, sit."
"I am very sorry for your loss, Miss Dalian. Please, forgive my tardiness in coming to offer my condolences, I had many to attend to." He sat on the very edge of his chair across the desk, his shoulders square.
"Of course, we all do at the moment." I felt myself deflate slightly, "Is next Sunday available for the funeral?"
"Yes, I will have a notice posted in the papers. Is there anything you would like on the program?" He drew out a piece of paper and a pencil, scratching away as we discussed the timetable. The empty casket would arrive early, followed by Mother and I. Hymns would be sung, including Eternal Father. It seemed only right to send Father off with the hymn we had sung so many times together. Various personages would give statements about Father, and I would conclude the ceremony with my own and my thanks for the presence of everyone. Only the family and close friends would be attending the burial. The Reverend assured me that everything would be in readiness, he would personally see to a headstone and casket being prepared, and departed.
I poured a glass of brandy from the decanter Father had kept up here, taking it over to the windows that looked out over the harbor. I sipped it, the taste was harsh but the more I drank the smoother it became, the less I felt the weight on my shoulders. It seemed like I could not stop, and I filled the glass again. I could find no rest. If it was not going to be heading off with Will and the others to the inquiry, it would be helping Mrs. Brown with the relief society, or dealing with business papers to assure that everything continued on.
I was tired, so very tired. I wanted nothing more than to close myself off from the world, like Mother had, and keep Will by my side. I suppose I could thank the inquiry for that, for holding him here. But it wasn't as if we could do what we had discussed before, go out for dinner and dancing, or go to Newport and sail the yacht. Instead I was busied by everything and anything, and the only rest I got was in Will's arms. I was a black raven following him, not the beautiful heiress I had been onboard. I pressed my forehead to the glass, closing my eyes and trying to keep from crying. It was stupid for me to cry, I needed to be strong right now. I'd done my crying for Father on the Carpathia, I had to keep myself moving. The responsibilities would settle onto me, they would get easier, and by July I could enter half mourning. It was three months, three months to accustom myself to everything.
The door opened, a set of heavy footsteps coming in. I knew Will's step, and I watched him come up behind me in the distorted reflection on the window. His voice rumbled against my back. "Dinner's ready, what are you doing up here?"
I swirled the brandy, taking another healthy drink. "The reverend came by to discuss funeral arrangements. I got caught up."
"And the brandy?" He gently took the glass from my hand, returning it to the sideboard. I heard him lift the bottle, examining the contents. "You shouldn't be drinking that much."
"Will, I can't do this anymore." I leaned up against the window, the cool glass comfortable against my forehead as I looked out over the harbor. "I'm the only one now. The only one who can run everything and I just can't. I can't keep the business running, go with you all to Washington, and be the perfect daughter in mourning for her father." I watched his reaction in the window, his expression growing thoughtful. "I'm so tired Will, and it's just," I gestured vaguely around me, "It's so much."
His hands slipped around my waist, drawing me to him. "Then perhaps you should stay back tomorrow, settle matters here more thoroughly." Our reflection showed the difference in us, Will looked the best that he had since the sinking, while I could see shadows under my eyes.
I shook my head against his chest. "No, I can keep going. At least for now." I could not lose what time I had with him, I could rest, or try to, once he left for England. I drew him down for a kiss, "Besides, I have no doubt the events of this afternoon will make the papers, it would probably be good for me to get out of town."
I felt him hum, a slight movement against my back betrayed him looking around, and he spoke quietly. "When was that painted?"
I looked to see what he meant. He was looking at the large portrait Father had hung in his office. I smiled through my tears, to see the three of us together again. Father was standing, in a crisp suit and tie, behind a chair Mother sat in, her white lingerie dress swirling around her feet. I was sat opposite her, in the gown I had worn for my debut. Navy silk, dipping low over my chest, with golden embroidery and lace, and pearls strung through my hair. The three of us were posed around a table, a model ship displayed proudly. Will still held me close as he turned toward the painting. I played with his fingers, "He had it painted for my debut, back when I was sixteen." I touched the jet brooch at my neck, "I still have that dress, but I won't be wearing it for awhile."
"You look beautiful." He leaned down, kissing my cheek. "Even in mourning."