Will brought up the letters again the next day, but Ana had begged him to go shopping instead. Sylvie's clothing hung on her all wrong, and the skirts showed far more of her calves than she was comfortable with. Will didn't mind, and told her so, but that didn't change things. She begged him to take her to a ready-made store in Southampton, and he couldn't resist.
So he'd taken her, standing by her when eyes were cast at her short skirt and too large shirtwaist. Fortunately, Ana knew her measurements by heart, and knew what she liked. She piled up sensible shirtwaists, practical skirts and plain shoes. She was glad to find corsets, even if they were marked up due to the steel needing to go to the factories for weapons. Will placed a few brassieres with their order, unwilling to condemn her to those uncomfortable garments for the entire war.
He watched her put everything away back at the house, shifting a good portion of his own clothing to allow her to settle her new things. He brought up the letters as she folded up a nightgown that didn't even have a hint of lace to it. "Ana, shouldn't you get writing? I mean, you must have quite a few to do."
"No," She had a smile on her face now that she had changed into clothes that actually fit her. "I'll write them later." Ana turned to the bed, settling onto it and reaching for his hand. "I want to show you how much I appreciate you taking me out."
Will groaned as he watched her eyes flick to his fly, her tongue peeping out to wet her lips. Ana had been in an amorous mood the night before, hauling him down in a tangle of limbs and sheets when they had retired. He liked when she took control, when she acted like she would die if he didn't take her, and she'd been that way when they had both woken in the middle of the night. Even when she was bent over for him, her body shuddering every time he drove home, it seemed like she was the one who had egged him on.
But this morning, when they had lain on their sides and he had let her move against him, he had felt drained. He loved her, he loved taking her and having her want him, but as Ana reached for his fly buttons, he caught her hand. "Ana, you don't have to."
"I want to though." She batted her eyes, "I know you want it."
He chuckled, "All I want to do is hold you, may I?"
She pouted as she laid down, letting himself curl around her. "Do you not want me?"
"Christ, of course I do Ana. But I'm tired, and I want to take you out tomorrow." He grumbled against her back, nuzzling her neck. He slipped a hand over her side, cupping her breast. "You bought so many clothes today."
She shifted against him, clearly trying to arouse him. "I can still wear trousers, if you like."
"Don't tempt me." He grumbled into the pillow. "You know I do." He pressed his nose to her hair, breathing in her scent. Although it was more his own scent, given that she had washed her hair with his shampoo. "But you bought such plain things."
"I thought it was appropriate, what with the war."
"It is, but I want you to be inappropriate." He shifted to lean over her slightly. "I want to take you to London tomorrow, and I want you to buy as many frivolous things as you can. Pretty dresses, face creams, rouge, powder, everything."
She smiled slightly, but it fell. "Will, I couldn't do that. Not with the war, it would be foolish."
"And you're my little fool." He pressed a kiss to her nose, "And I want my fool to be her pretty self."
"You don't think I'm pretty?"
"I think you're absolutely beautiful, and I want you to think of yourself that way." Will grinned, "Don't tell me you'd wear that to a ball?"
She chuckled, "Not quite, it would be nice to have something pretty."
Campbell shifted in his seat, waiting for De Bourgh to call him in. Damn that woman, and damn that family for forcing their way in. Two grubby little boys, a stupid baby girl, and a crippled wife, not to mention the bastard of a man who had forced him out. He should have forced them out, made them wait outside with their mangy dog until he'd finished. It would take hours to get anything decent out of the Murdoch woman, and he'd barely managed anything.
She'd barely spoken on the train, preferring to drape herself over that dog. It growled and snapped at him, and Campbell would gladly have thrown the thing in front of the engine and smiled when it was run over. He'd been so hopeful when he had seen the notice come through, her name on the passenger list.
He had been completely unaware of her coming over, and he had thrown himself into preparations. She'd be going to Southampton, he'd gotten word about Captain Murdoch's leave and if the two were to meet it would be in his house. Which mean she was going to be on the train from London. He'd written De Bourgh a quick note, rushing to the station before the train from Liverpool arrived.
He must have waited six hours before he saw her stagger off.
She was far from the stunning New York beauty that he had seen in the newspaper pictures. She hadn't been dressed in an evening gown, there had been no jewels or silks, and not a hint of powder or rouge. Instead, what he had found was a tired woman in plain clothes, still shivering slightly when a breeze would kick up. She had clutched that dog's leash so tight it had been a wonder the thing hadn't choked.
He had followed her onto the train, joined her in her compartment, and then commenced. As with anything, it required introductions first. Mrs. Murdoch had been pale, shaking, and refused to answer almost every question he had asked. All she had been willing to say was that she was onboard, she was on deck when the torpedo hit, and that she had been in the water before being picked up by a fishing smack.
The dog had crawled across her lap, licking her face, and when Campbell had offered his own handkerchief to her, it had very nearly bit him. And when he pulled out a cigarette and lit up, she'd wrinkled her nose and opened the window. The wind from the passage of the train had drowned out any chance of further conversation.
And now he was waiting in front of Captain de Bourgh, watching as the man finished reading a report. "Ah, Campbell, please sit."
"Sir," Campbell sank into the chair across the desk from his superior officer. "I've come to report about the Murdochs."
"Proceed."
Campbell took a deep breath. "I was unable to acquire much information from Mrs. Murdoch on the train, or at her house. She was reluctant to speak, and her husband was angry about my visiting."
De Bourgh sighed, "Unfortunate, but we have time before the inquiry to ensure she speaks as we want her to. How did you find the two of them together?"
"I don't believe that I could form an impression of her, given her hysterics over the sinking." He shrugged, "As for him, he clings to her like a drowning man to life ring."
"Well, that could be helpful." De Bourgh leaned back in his chair, "Do you think she feels the same for him?"
"I do, she threw herself at him in the train station."
De Bourgh smiled, and Campbell felt his heart lift. The captain clearly had an idea, and he leaned across the desk. "I think that we may have found ourselves in an advantageous position here, so we had best use it."
Will held Ana's hand tight when they got off the train in London. The station was crowded, men in uniform and suits, nurses flocking towards trains or cabs and he threaded his way between all of them. Ana didn't stand out much, most everyone's clothes were drab and utilitarian. The only thing that marked her out was her hair, braided down her back and tied with a ribbon. Most of the other women had their pinned up harshly, or they had cut it to their shoulders.
Ana's hair was wonderful though, thick and shining and swaying with every step. Later when he would untie the ribbon and pull it out of its plait, he would let the slightly curled strands run through his fingers and whisper to her about how much he loved her hair. She had been so flustered to not being wearing a hat when they left the house, but when he had tied the bow around her hair she had calmed.
In fact, she had been calm the whole train ride, and even now as they stepped onto a bus that would drop them off near Selfridge's, she gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. The bus was fairly full, but he was able to find them seats on a bench. He let her have the window seat, she'd be glad to watch the city slide by. No one much cared when he put his arm around her, or when she leaned on him.
They had just gone pas the third stop when something large and white was thrust into his field of vision.
Will stared at the white feather, vaguely reminded of the ostrich plumes on that forget-me-not hat Ana loved. He followed the feather to the fingers that held up, and then up the arm of a fashionably dressed young woman. She wiggled it in front of his face. "Take it, it's the only thing a coward like you deserves."
He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Sitting here in your fine suit while men are dying in the trenches in France, you must be very proud of yourself." She tossed her head back, her close hat barely showing her pinned back auburn hair. "We all know you for a coward, you may as well take the feather. Honorable men are dying, and you-"
Whatever she had been about to say was cut off as Will's wife launched herself across him, her hand cracking across the woman's face before her fingers latched around the woman's throat. She looked crazed as she shook her, "How dare you! How dare you! You know nothing of him, my husband is the bravest man I know!" Will would have pulled Ana off, but he could tell that she wasn't choking the woman, she was simply using it to shake her. "He's a captain in the navy, you stupid bitch! He's only taking me shopping because I was on the Lusitania and I have nothing!"
The woman paled, drawing a shaky breath. "Let me go."
Ana almost threw her away, and Will was suddenly aware that his wife was very much in his lap, in public. "Ana, love, it's alright."
"No, it isn't!" She latched her arms around his shoulders, but was still glaring at the woman. "She's a horrible person, and should be ashamed of herself."
Will glanced around the bus, noticing that the woman was not attracting any sympathy as she drew herself back up and stepped off at the next stop. If anything, the other passengers seemed relieved to find her gone. Quite a few nodded to him as the bus continued on, although he drew more grins due to the fact that Ana was still partially in his lap.
It was only at their stop that he fully dislodged her, holding her close as they stepped off. They had just turned to walk towards Selfridge's when a voice sang out, "Captain Murdoch, sir?" Will turned, seeing a man waving. He couldn't place the face that greeted him as he stepped closer, "Thought that was you, sir."
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." Will nodded in greeting.
The man shrugged, "Ah, you don't know me, sir. I'm just a stoker onboard, but if your lady there hadn't laid into that bint I was about to." He tipped his cap to Ana, "Sorry about the language, ma'am."
Ana chuckled, "I said worse."
"That you did!" The man laughed, "Although you should have given her a slap, only way they learn."
"I'll remember for next time." Ana smiled, giving Will's arm a squeeze. The man tipped his cap one more time, walking off in the opposite direction. It really wasn't that far of a walk, although Ana did pause at one point. Will thought she just needed a moment to catch her breath, but instead she tugged him towards an alley. Once off the sidewalk, she wrapped her hands in the lapels of his suit. "Will, don't believe a word of what she said."
He smiled down at her, "Ana-"
"You are not a coward! You are brave, and honorable and handsome and the best man I know." She almost looked panicked, "I don't want you thinking a bit about what she said, not a single minute of it. She's wrong, she's so wrong, and you-"
Will didn't let her finish that thought, instead kissing her deeply and gently herding her back against the wall of a building. He groaned as he tasted his wife, her tongue slipping over his as she kissed him back. Ana was a complete and utter blessing, and the fact that she would defend him like that was enough to drive him wild. Let alone hearing her list all his amazing qualities, that made him want to take her against the wall right now.
But instead, he pressed one last kiss to her before pulling away, "I know, Ana. Thank you, though."
"I love you." She surged forward, wrapping him tightly in a hug. They remained that way for a few more minutes, and Will took the opportunity to press a few kisses to the top of her head. But they slowly extricated themselves, Ana clinging to his arm as they kept walking. London seemed much the same, cramped buildings and bustling people, but the war had its fingers everywhere. Sandbags piled up by doors, men on buildings looking out for zeppelins or aeroplanes. More women were working, wearing uniforms for delivery services or streetcars. Men in uniform hustled busily past them, whispering harshly to each other.
Ana hardly seemed to notice; her eyes glued to the building they were approaching. Selfridges still looked the same, and if the shopgirls were a little younger and more numerous, they were still perfectly helpful as they whisked them through the store. Most of the departments were run by women now, aside from a few older men that guarded their department of suits like hawks.
Will couldn't help but smile as Ana fell into a shopping frenzy. With the war on, the full skirts she favored were out of style and most things were only offered as ready-made, but she hardly cared. She cooed over a gray wool suit, fluttered over a dark red hat with black flowers, and sighed when she entered the lingerie department and managed to find something with lace and frills.
He did have to admit he liked seeing her looking over the evening dresses as she held a hushed conversation with the shopgirl about possible embellishment. She was still so beautiful, now that some color was back in her cheeks. Her brown eyes flashed, her lips were perfectly pink as they twisted up into a smile and her hair had come slightly loose and floated around her head like halo.
Will wondered if any man in the Navy had a girl half as pretty, let alone a wife. He'd heard rumors that Admiral Beatty's wife was good looking, but he'd also heard rumors that she strayed in their marriage. Ethel Beatty was an heiress from Chicago, and had left her husband to marry Beatty. People whispered that she bought him promotions, and even quieter whispers speculated that she hadn't purchased them with money.
He pictured himself walking into a dinner where Beatty was present, Ana on his arm and him secure in the knowledge that she had never strayed.
By the end of the trip, Ana had found enough clothes to require her order to be delivered. She was affectionate on the train home, although she did eye every woman who walked by as if they would thrust a white feather toward him. Will kept an arm around her in the cab, and when they stepped inside. "You know we're going to the Lightollers for dinner."
"I know." Ana chuckled, "I imagine Sylvie will be glad to get her clothes back."
"Probably, although I have no doubt she'll be clinging to Lights, what with him leaving tomorrow." Will sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Be nice and distract the boys so they can have some time alone, will you?"
Ana rolled her eyes. "Those two have plenty of time alone, I have no doubt about that."
"Oh, more than likely." He sat at the dining table, noting the paper he had left out from when he had asked her to write the letters. "Would you want to get this done before we go?"
Ana looked over; her gaze hesitant. "Not now, there will be plenty of time for that."
"You should get it done." Will tapped the paper, "Your mother is probably going mad waiting."
"She can wait a few more days." Ana pursed her lips, "I'm going upstairs to change for dinner. I'll be down shortly." Will spent most of the time wishing for a pipe until Ana reappeared, dressed in a conservative shirtwaist and a long light blue skirt. She brushed her hand down the soft wool, "Is this alright?"
"You know it is." Will came up, taking her hand and leaning down to kiss her. "Now, let's drive the Rolls over there and give Lights something to gawk at."
He wasn't wrong, for as soon as they pulled up Lights was there to help unload the valises and berate him about how his neighbors would think his friend was putting on airs. But then the boys were there, wanting to know all about the car. Will knew far too little, but he told them what he could while Ana took the bags inside and was no doubt roped into helping Sylvie.
In fact, after the boys had each taken a turn behind the wheel, and made their father laugh by honking the horn no less than a dozen times, Will found Ana sitting with Mavis in her arms. The girl was bigger now, but was quite clearly sleepy as Ana rocked her back and forth. She gave Will a smile as he walked over, "She's almost asleep."
He felt his heart twist for a moment, his mind replacing Mavis with his own daughter and the Lightoller's parlor with their rooms back in New York. Once the war was over, he would have that. He would have Ana, have children and nothing but time to enjoy with them. He smiled, brushing his hand over Mavis's head. "Why don't you ask Sylvie where she wants her? I'm sure she should get to bed."
It took only a moment for Ana to be directed where to take Mavis, and shortly after that dinner was ready. Sylvie had worked as well as she could with the rationing, and everyone was full of compliments for her efforts. For a moment Will worried the boys would say something about the lack of sweets after dinner, but all they wanted was Ana to read to them from a book.
She gave Will a wink as they pulled her away, Nana having been let inside to join them. Will collected plates from the table, and took a peek through the kitchen door before opening it. Sylvie was clasped in Charles's arms; he was whispering to her while she was clearly struggling to control herself. Will paused, looking away. They needed this moment, a chance for them to be together and brace themselves for tomorrow.
At least Will only had Ana to worry about, he had no idea how Lights could spend months away from his family.
He heard Sylvie draw a shaky breath, and when he looked back, she had stepped away from Lights. Will pretended to have just opened the door, jostling the plates in his hands. "Thought you might like some help cleaning, Ana's got the boys."
"Oh," Sylvie sniffed, summoning a shaky smile. "Thank you. It would be much appreciated."
"It's a good chance for her to prepare for her own." Lights teased, even if his own voice was less confident than usual. "Once you get home and do your duty."
Will snorted, his next words blurting out before he could stop himself. "She's barely let me do anything but."
Sylvie laughed, gesturing to the sink. "Well, what else are we ladies supposed to do when our men come home?"
"Not exhaust your husbands!" Will set the plates down, setting the sink to fill with soap and water. "I've barely been able to distract her with shopping."
"You're complaining about this?" Lights teased, joining him at the sink.
Will shook his head, scrubbing plates and handing them over to Lights to rinse. "I haven't had much to complain about, it's just," He sighed. "Ana's been deeply affected by this sinking, I don't quite know how to help her with it."
Lights pursed his lips, staying quiet. He knew they were both thinking about Titanic and the aftermath. But Sylvie had no such compunctions, "Well, she may not have lost her father in this one but it sounds as if it was much worse, more violent."
Will nodded, not trusting himself to look at Sylvie. Instead he focused on the plates, "I've been trying to get her to write letters to everyone in New York about what happened, but she won't. All she seems to do is eat, sleep and," Will grinned, "Well, like I said, she doesn't like me leaving the bed."
Lights bumped his shoulder, "She needs to talk about it, remember how the inquiry helped us see things clearly? She needs that now."
"She's going to hate it." Will grumbled, drying his hands. "And me for forcing it."
"That woman will never hate you." Sylvie rolled her eyes, "But you need to sit her down and make her talk, it will help. Like drawing pus from a wound, painful but necessary."
Lights grinned, "Don't fight her on this, you won't win. I never have."