Will felt like his head was going to burst with everything that had been shoved into it. He had been able to fall into the naval way quick enough, but now they were shoving every single bit of gunnery into his head. He hadn't studied gunnery before, that had required an extra payment and he hadn't had the money before.
Not to mention all the discussions about torpedoes.
If the war hadn't come he would have signed up for gunnery training the next time he'd come back for his Reserves training now that he'd had the money. But now he was getting paid for it, not paid well but he hardly cared about that. So each night he had to run through calculations, review the routine of loading, aiming and firing a gun, all the different types of guns that could be found on anything from a destroyer to a battleship.
Hell, he was fairly sure that some of the letters he'd written for Ana had his calculations scrawled on the back of them.
His quarters on the cruiser were smaller than his quarters on the Anastasia, but he didn't spend much time in them. All of his time was in the wardroom, getting school on gunnery, or in the mess. The only thing he did in his cabin was sleep and dress, and he would have been content with that if the company had been improved.
As it was, the others onboard were a motley mix of men barely out of boyhood and men who glanced aside at him every time he spoke. At least the boys seemed to listen, but when he tried to sit with the other men they didn't even acknowledge him. It had only been a few days, but Will could feel the disdain rolling off of him.
It was on the third day where he had some relief, a familiar face sitting across from him. Will goggled for a moment, "Nettles?"
"That's Lietenant Nettles." The other man chuckled, nodding to him. "I'll catch you soon enough Lieutenant Commander."
Will felt himself relax just the tiniest bit. "I have no doubt of that. Are you getting gunnery training too?"
"A bit of that," Nettles shrugged, "But I'm going to a minelayer. Can't say I'm too pleased about it, but it's not as if I have a choice." He dug his fork into the food they'd been served. "What about you?"
"I don't know my assignment yet." Will looked down to his own plate. "But with all the gunnery they've been shoving in my head I don't think it will be a minelayer."
Nettles snorted, "To be quite honest, I'm surprised to find you here. Pleasantly so, it's rather nice to have someone I know around."
"It is." Will nodded, "If I'm being honest, it's been rather miserable."
"Imagine what it will be like when we go to war." He shook his head. "Hopefully they keep us too busy to notice."
"Hopefully," Will agreed, "How is your family dealing with everying?"
"My wife told me it was a damned day the day I signed up for the Reserves." He rolled his eyes, "But she's got our little boy to take care of. And it's not as if I'll be sailing into battle on a minelayer. If anything, I might be able to see her fairly often. Yours?"
"She's upset," Will spoke simply. "Wanted me to stay back in America, but I can't exactly let everyone go fight and stay behind." The rest of the meal passed much more pleasantly than Will had been having, and while he and Nettles didn't quite have their meals overlap every time, he was at least able to see Nettles a few more times.
It was to Nettles that Will brought the envelope that had been left in his cabin, a grin on his face. "Got my assignment, finally!"
"Where are you headed?" Nettles cocked his head as he focused on Will's wrist. "And what's that?"
Will held up his hand, showing the metal bracelet on it. "Identification, in case you're-" Will cut himself off, well aware of the superstition about talking about being lost. He hoped the bracelet would not be needed, but it was still a strange weight on his hand. A reminder that it might be all that was sent to Ana. "You'll have one soon. But I've been assigned to the Peterel, a destroyer. Have a few days to get up to Chatham, then I ship out."
"A good berth." Nettles nodded, smiling. "I'm sure you'll do well."
"Aye," One of the other men in the mess growled, "You'll be replacing the live bait squadron then." Will was about to ask what that meant when the man's mates began to whisper amongst themselves. Instead he felt a twist of uncertainty in his gut begin to build, and hastily begged off to go write Ana about his posting.
He'd leave out the live bait comment.
Oscar was as good as his word, and soon the house was flooded with flowers. It at least made the place seem more cheery, even if I didn't feel like it. I wasn't allowed to simply spend all day in bed anymore, not after Peggy had threatened to physically remove me from it if I didn't get out. Instead I simply moved from room to room, trying not to think about Will.
Which was particularly hard at the moment, I was currently sat in the parlor, in a conservative dress and a Bible prominently displayed on the low table. It was usually kept in the library, but Peggy had dragged it down in order for our guests to view my piety.
Sat across from me was Reverend Johnson and Reverend Wallace, both looking a bit uncomfortable. Reverend Johnson was well turned out with his clerical collar freshly starched, his sandy brown hair tamed down. Reverend Wallace, the head of a Presbyterian church that Will and I had attended several times, seemed to be distracting himself with the plate of cookies that had been brought up.
I fiddled with my gloves, "Thank you both for coming, it's very kind of you."
"I was quite surprised when I asked Reverend Wallace if you had been visiting his church and he said you hadn't been there since before your husband left." Reverend Johnson glanced aside to the other priest. "As your spiritual guide, of course I was concerned. I know your family is not the most devout of my flock but I do usually see you at least once a month or so."
I dropped my gaze, focusing on the pattern on the plates. "My apologies Reverend Johnson, I have not been feeling well."
"It's understandable, what with your husband leaving." Reverend Wallace spoke comfortingly, a slight burr to his voice that Will had mentioned he enjoyed hearing sermons. "I assume you've been worried about him?"
"Well, I am his wife." I gave a slight, humorless laugh at that. "I believe that was part of my vows."
"Not quite." Reverend Johnson smiled at that, "But it's kind of you to worry about him, but you must remember to take care of yourself."
"I've been reminded of that lately."
"We," Wallace nodded to Johnson, "We want to ensure that you are not only taking care of yourself physically but spiritually as well."
"Yes, it may do you good to come pray for him in church." Johnson reached out, gently taking my hand. "Whether in mine or Reverend Wallace's, I promise I don't mind."
I gave his hand a slight squeeze. "Thank you Reverend Johnson, and Reverend Wallace. I promise that you'll see me soon." I simply added that to my numerous faults that had become evident in the past few days. Small talk only lasted for a few more minutes before they excused themselves. I returned back to my room, glad to be rid of the conservative dress and back into a tea down. I was even more glad to dispense with all the pins in my hair, although there was one issue.
Louise had refused to leave when I had told her to, and she patiently worked the brush through my hair while I sat at my vanity. I could see her brows furrowed, and her eyes occasionally flicked to mine through the mirror. "Ma'am, have you been keeping track of things?"
"What things?" I groused, trying to rack my brain. I'd barely been keeping track of the days, let alone anything else. I must have forgotten something, and now I was going to get taken to task over it.
"Your monthly." Her hand froze, and I started in my chair. "I, I haven't seen you have it since Newport."
My hand went to my stomach, spreading over it. "You, you don't think that I'm pregnant, do you?"
"Mr. Murdoch was very attentive before he left." Louise set the brush down, coming to stand in front of me. "It's not unheard of you know, for a man to get his wife pregnant before he goes to war."
"But," I pressed my hand to my stomach harder, trying to feel anything I could, as if I could feel the baby in me. "But we've been trying so hard and nothing."
"It may have."
"Should I write Will?" I gently rubbed over my stomach, trying to picture the child that might be growing in me. "He'd be so happy."
"I would give it another month or two." Louise blushed slightly, "There are other signs to watch for, I haven't seen those yet but I would wait for you to experience them and be sure before writing him."
When I laid down for a nap that afternoon, I couldn't help but rub my hand over my belly. Pregnant, I could be pregnant. Oh, Will would have to come back if I was! He had to, he had to come here and stay with me, he had to be here to meet his child when they were born. I could see them perfectly, wisps of delicate hair and eyes so fresh and curious.
Peggy was happy to see me eating when she brought dinner up, and even brought up an extra helping of ice cream when I asked for dessert. I sat down at the small secretary desk in my sitting room after, pulling out a fresh sheet of my stationary. Louise may not want me to write Will that I was pregnant, or possibly pregnant, but I could at least write him.
I'd already sent my first packet of letters over, all of them lies. I'd told him how I was always going out with Oscar and Liz, how Mother and I were handling the new contracts. I wrote him about how I was interviewing potential mates for Rigel, how people were whispering that Sophie and I would be at each other's throats soon.
That last one was not actually a lie, while I had been avoiding the articles about the war, I had begun reading the society pages like I hadn't since I was a girl. Liz had been getting good press, stories about her wedding plans had occupied quite a few articles. But one thread that seemed to pop up again and again were people speculating about what would happen between Sophie and I once I began attending events again. It seemed that the opinion was that we would immediately launch ourselves at each other. Her fighting for her brothers, me for my husband, all of them fighting against each other on the other side of the Atlantic.
I wrote Will about how silly that was, how Sophie could no more control what her brother did than I him. While we may have family on opposing sides, I would not slight her for it. I wrote a few more lines, then slipped into a nightgown and called Rigel up to join me on the bed.
I swore I heard the staff breathe a sight of relief when I came down for breakfast that morning, and asked Tyler to accompany Rigel and myself on a walk. It did feel rather nice to be outside, the fall weather rather warm. I amused myself with thoughts of my possible baby, what room would be turned into a nursery, what colors. Even the warmth and comfort of the whiskey didn't seem quite so alluring when I was distracted with those thoughts.
I actually managed to spend a few relatively normal days like this, and I think Oscar was about to fall to his knees in relief when I met him and Liz at the Waldorf-Astoria for tea. Liz was clutching a notebook, and as soon as we had been sat she had it open. "I don't know if we can have James's family over for the wedding, so I'm hoping we can bring in a few more people he knows here. Is he close with the Fields?"
Oscar snorted. "Can we order first?"
"Well, I suppose," Liz rolled her eyes, "Assuming our guest is eating again."
"I'm starving." I chuckled, and we quickly had a tableful of tea time dainties before us. I was especially fond of the shortbread that had been brought out, although I did have to pause for a moment after the first bite. It was much lighter and sweeter than Jeanie's recipe, but for a moment I was back with Will in the Vermont cabin, mixing everything together and packing it into the pan. We'd hastily eaten a few pieces as soon as it came out, blowing on the piping hot cookies until we could barely swallow them.
Fortunately the Vanderbilts either didn't notice my momentary distress, or chose not to comment on it, and continued on with their discussion. Flowers had been decided upon, Liz despaired that she wasn't being original with her choice in roses, but I assured her the daisies were a good counterpoint to them. It was while Oscar was pouring a second cup of tea for me that I felt a slight twinge in my stomach, and excused myself to the washroom.
I suppose I should have been glad that it was only a slight flow of blood, I didn't have my clothes or belt with me, but I still felt as if there was a bloody mess between my legs. I'd lost it, my baby, Will's baby. It was gone, and I couldn't even cry here in the washroom. Not with the other ladies fluttering around it. And God I couldn't even leave the stall, not without something to catch the blood. I would be a laughing stock if it soaked through my petticoat. I could feel my breath speeding up, a tightness in my chest that refused to leave and tears were already stinging at my eyes.
"Anastasia?" Liz's voice was soft as she opened the door to the washroom, and I huddled a bit further in my stall. "Is everything alright?"
I sniffed, hoping that my voice would steady. "Oh, I'm sorry. My monthly came, and I just wasn't expecting it so soon. I don't suppose you would mind if I headed home early?"
Liz's feet stopped before the door to my stall. "Of course not, I've seen you during it enough to know that you're going to be miserable. I'll let Oscar know, we can come calling next week and settle everything." I mumbled my thanks, grabbed a wad of toilet paper and did my best to situate it in my drawers as a makeshift monthly cloth.
If Lewis thought it odd that I wanted to head home so soon, he didn't say anything. But I could feel Peggy's eyes on me when I got home, and when I dismissed Louise she had her lips pursed. I didn't want anyone around me, and I made that clear to Louise when I closed the door after her. I even had her take Rigel out, although the way he whined almost made me relent. I wanted to be alone in my rooms, mourning the baby that was bleeding down my leg.
What had I done? I had to have caused this, there had to have been something that had led to my monthly coming on like this. Was it the fact that I had become more active? If I had laid in bed, missing Will, would my belly have grown as the baby got larger? I let the tears fall then, sat on the floor of my bathroom. At least here I could do my best to not feel disgusting, I had cloths to clean myself and a bathtub that could be filled with water as close to boiling as I could get it.
I let the water fill the tub, trying not to remember enjoying it with Will, and poured a large helping of lavender oil into it. With the smell of lavender around me, I collected a bottle of whiskey I'd hidden in a chest of drawers, and settled into the hot water. The bath was hot and soothing and soon the cramps that I knew were coming had me curled up in it like the water could hide me from the world.
Louise came in at some point, saw my bloody drawers, and silently took them away. She left me a clean nightgown, and had a soft look on her face when she told me dinner had been left in the sitting room.
I let it alone, crawling into bed.
I'd hidden one of Will's shirts underneath my pillow, and I drew it out to hold as I fell asleep. It had been laundered, but I could smell a bit of his aftershave on it. I lay there, clutching his shirt, and running through what he looked like so I wouldn't forget. Piercing blue eyes, lovely brown hair, pale skin that flushed when I would lean in and kiss him. I fell asleep with tears on my cheeks.
"Anastasia, sweetheart." A voice brushed through my dreams, and I clung to it. "Oh, sweetheart, it hurts to see you like this."
"Papa?" I blearily blinked, and was rewarded with the visage of my father, sat on the side of my bed and brushing his hand against my cheek. "Papa, what are you doing here?"
"I'm the only one who can get to you, it seems." He sighed, watching as I sat up. "I know you're upset, sweetheart, but you have to take better care of yourself."
I dropped my head. Another lecture, from a ghost this time. "Papa, you have no idea what I've been through."
"I've been watching everything." His hand brushed out, trying to draw my chin back up. "If you won't do it for yourself, at least look at how you're hurting everyone around you. You know Peggy cares about you like you were her own daughter and you've snapped at her like a demon the past weeks."
"She doesn't understand." I pulled my chin from his fingers. "No one does."
"Your mother would." His voice was clipped. "She knows what it's like to have her husband far from her."
A rush of shame flamed over my cheeks, "Papa, please, you know-"
"I know that I can't see you like this!" He stood, looking so like Will for a moment as he raked his hand through his hair. "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself!"
"Then maybe you should have made me marry Oscar!" I blurted it out without thinking. "He wouldn't leave me to go fight in a war, so you should have just forced me into it! Maybe you'd still be here if you did!" I could feel a sob in my throat. "Maybe I'd have a baby by now." I felt the bed shift as he sat down, and I covered my face with my hands as I began crying.
My tears were coming hot and fast. "I'm so scared Papa, I'm going to lose him! He's going to die and I'm going to be over here and I can't do anything! And I thought I was pregnant, but I'm not. I can't even write to him to come home because he has a child. I tried, I tried so hard and I couldn't do anything!"
I felt him slip an arm around me, pulling me to lean against his chest as he rocked me back and forth. "Shhh sweetheart, I know. I know, but you have to have faith that he's going to come back. What would he say if he could see you? Wouldn't he want you to be strong and believe in him? And you owe it to yourself too, you didn't cause any of this. You didn't make it so you weren't pregnant, and it will happen. It took your mother and I years, as you know." He held me a bit tighter. "Can you do something for your Papa?"
"What?"
"I want you to go to your Mother for breakfast tomorrow and tell her all of this. Cry, yell, scream, but just go to her. Let her come stay here or stay with her, it doesn't matter. But I don't want you alone, not anymore." I could only nod against his chest, too tired and too sad to fight anymore.
When I woke up I couldn't remember anything beyond Father's request, Will's shirt tangled in my hands. I came out to find breakfast set for me, and Louise was waiting with a bottle of aspirin. She held it out, "I'm sorry, ma'am. We all are."
I gratefully took one of the pills, swallowing it with the glass of milk that had been placed next to the oatmeal that had been sent up. "Thank you, Louise."
"If there's anything-"
"Can you pack me a trunk?" I sat down, pulling the bowl towards me. "I'm going to go stay with my mother for awhile."
She bobbed a curtsy, "Of course, ma'am. Shall I be coming with you?"
"If you like." I didn't even taste the oatmeal as I ate. "Could you throw the shirt on my bed in, as well?"
She assured me she would, and that she would be coming with me. She paused before moving to my dressing room, "A packet of letters from Mr. Murdoch arrived, I'll place them in your trunk for you to read there."
I rubbed my eyes at that. "Thank you, please let Peggy know to send out the letters on my desk later today." A bump against my leg made me smile briefly. Rigel was also to accompany me, although I felt that even if I didn't want him to come with me I wouldn't have been able to leave him.
As soon as I had come into the sitting room he had been by my side, his head on my lap. While I mechanically ate breakfast I reach down and scratch his ears, and he even padded after me when I went to get dressed. Everything had been packed quickly, and Lewis had no issues with driving all of us over to the Fifth Avenue house.
Mr. Rigby, on the other hand, was a different matter.
He spluttered when I brought Rigel inside, "Miss Anastasia, what are you doing here, with that dog?"
"I'm sorry I didn't call ahead." I mumbled, holding Rigel a bit tighter. Mr. Rigby had always been a stickler about ensuring every inch of the house was clean. "I need to see my mother, do you know where she is?"
"I believe she's in her sitting room." He shook his head, "But I can't have you take him-"
"I'll see your trunk to your rooms." Louise brushed past him, "I can take him with me."
"Thank you." I mumbled, handing over his leash. I knew she would be able to handle him as well as getting everything settled. I knew the way to Mother's rooms well enough, and I felt myself start sniffing as I got closer. I wanted her to hold me, I wanted to cry out all my worries and problems and have her tell me I was safe. It was bad enough that when I opened her sitting room door, causing her to look up from the paper she had been reading, I was already crying.
She stood, the paper set aside. "Anastasia? What are you doing here?" But I was sobbing so hard, I couldn't speak so I simply threw myself into her arms. She caught me easily, wrapping her arms around me and holding me tight. "Shhhh,sweetheart. Mama's here. It's alright, I have you. Shhhhh."