Authors: Aundrea M. Lopez
“
You're better off convincing the devil to sell you back your soul,” Ioan replied. “She won't go.”
“
She must go.”
“
I don't need a chaperon.”
“
You do need an escort,” Mr. Spruce told him. “It's tradition. I certainly can't be that woman for you.”
“
Then get me someone else. I won't go with moaning minnie.”
“
Yes, there's another one for the papers.”
“
And remind them how happy we really are.”
“
Well you have until tomorrow night to get happy.”
“
And you expect me to just waltz up there and ask her? She's fuming on the inquiry. The mare won't let it go.”
“
Are you frightened of her?”
“
Of course not.”
“
Then man up. She's coming upstairs.”
“
I'm not asking her.
You
ask her.”
“
Don't be absurd. Get over there and ask her, nancy boy. Now's your chance.”
“
I
am
not afraid of her!” Ioan declared. He turned to find Cora right behind him. “Cora, I was wondering if you'd-”
“
No,” she said simply. “Can you ask Mrs. Dillsworth to deliver these invitations for me?” she said to Mr. Spruce. She turned to leave.
“
I wondered if maybe you'd go to the concert with me!” Ioan called after her. A slamming door answered him.
“
Bravo,” Mr. Srpuce commented. “It's safe to say the Saier bloodline is set for extinction.”
“
Christ, are you sure there's no one else?”
“
If she hasn't forgiven you by now, I doubt she ever will. Perhaps you're not working hard enough.”
“
You should be working, not commenting.”
“
I'll find the perfect girl for you.”
“
Those words should never be uttered in the same sentence.”
“
Do you want the girl or not?”
“
Fine. Anything's better than the creature.”
* * *
Cora went out. She had to escape the house. Ioan's obsession for the charity drew him behind closed doors. He was unseen, but always heard. He and Spruce never stopped going at it. It was like old Mr. Saier never made it under ground. Spruce played a faithful puppet. Cora knew she shouldn't take anything to heart, but sometimes it was necessary to just run away.
Lavinia planned to show up at one. This time she sent a card. If Cora kept her waiting, maybe she'd go away. How wrong that assumption really turned out to be. Somewhere deep in Lavinia's shallow heart, Cora believed she intended to stay forever. When she reached the garden, it became unmistakably obvious.
The perfect Miss Appleby sat like a picture in the garden. Cora spotted the navy blue scarf hanging over her lap. Her first reaction was to rip Lavinia's pretty blonde curls out, but she wasn't going to let this woman turn her into a fool.
“
Miss Harlow, haven't I told you about walking alone?” she scolded lightly. “We were worried about you. Kitty said you went missing this morning without explanation or note.”
“
Kitty?”
“
Oh yes, Mrs. Dillsworth, of course,” Lavinia reminded her. “Isn't it her name? She makes the best blueberry muffins on this end of town. I'm sorry you missed them.”
“
Where did you get that?” Cora asked.
Lavinia glanced innocently at the scarf. “Oh this poor thing? I found it while looking for you upstairs. I happened to glance into Mr. Saier's room and saw it laying on the dresser. It was ghastly before I got to it. I don't understand how a seafaring profession can be so abusive.”
“You went into his room?” Cora demanded.
“
To rescue the thing. I spent all morning knitting it back into shape. I patched the holes here and here and added an extra layer to the entire thing. It's nice and thick now. I've never been to sea, but I hear the cold is bone chilling. He'll always be warm wearing this.”
“
You shouldn't sneak into his things,” Cora warned her. “Such behavior is frowned upon in all societies.”
Lavinia smiled. “Oh, Cora, don't be offended. It's only a scarf. Just a little busywork until you returned. Would you care to help me finish the ends?”
Every impulse forbade Cora to do it, but she couldn't let Lavinia have anything of Ioan's. She sat next to her and took up a pair of needles. Silence encouraged Lavinia to chatter for the both of them. Anyone would have mistaken Cora for her best friend rather than the other woman. Lavinia did a poor job on keeping her thoughts secret.
“
Do you think he wore this scarf on Titanic?” she asked Cora.
“
He has a handful of these that he wears with his uniform. Who's to say this is the one he chose to wear on Titanic? It wouldn't have saved him as he jumped off the ship anyway,” Cora answered flatly.
“
I suppose you're right,” Lavinia answered. “It's just very nice to think about.” Cora didn't answer. It seemed silly to talk about a man's scarf like an excavated ancient artifact.
“
So what's it like?” Lavinia asked.
“
What do you mean?”
“
Marrying an Englishman?”
“
I won't tell him you called him that.”
“
Why?” Lavinia giggled. “Isn't that the origin of his accent? I think it's absolutely charming. How can you contain yourself with that walking around?”
“
There are plenty across the pond. Too many. You should get one yourself if you like them so much,” Cora replied.
“
Oh, Britain is much too far,” Lavinia lamented. “Fortunately they're making their way overseas. I shall have to thank you for recommending me, Miss Cora.”
“
They're only men. None of them are the handsome princes you read about. Whether a Brit or a yank, they make mistakes. They do foolish things. They always mismatch their socks in the laundry. They're argumentative. They think they're witty. They're impossible to live with.”
“
But you must love him,” Lavinia answered. “Whenever I find my husband, I'd like us to be as close as you and Mr. Saier. He looks at you in a way that would make any girl envious. You're very lucky, Miss Harlow. You have it better than the lot of us.”
*
* *
Spruce was right. Cora had a temper. She lacked the passive ladylike nature of Miss Perfection Appleby. Ioan broke his promise. It shouldn't be overlooked because he's a man. If he'd done something wrong, Cora would have him know about it. There was no reason to forgive him except for the very pure sake of love. He didn't understand a lot of things, but that she never wanted him to forget. They were a hopeless case. She knew in her right mind that they would never work under any circumstance. Nonetheless, if it meant having those demented moments where passion was greatest, it was worth every effort.
Cora didn't find him in his room, or the study, or the sitting room, or the garden, or the entirety of the house. There was only one place he could be. She found the balcony key hidden in another ditty box and unlocked the doors to the sea. He walked the shoreline like a castaway, his trousers rolled to his knees. He wore a loose white shirt, trading formality for spontaneity. She loved him that way. She wasn't sure how she'd say sorry without looking awkward, but all that vanished as she approached him. She wanted him close and to think of nothing else.
She stopped.
Lavinia waddled from the other side of the beach. “Mr. Saier!” she called. “Is it very cold?”
“I'm sorry. I can't hear you,” Ioan called over the wind.
“
How cold is the water!” Lavinia screeched as her feet slipped against the wet sand. Ioan hurried to catch her. It was disgusting how he fell for it. Anyone with a brain knows she planned the whole thing.
“
Alright there?” Ioan asked lifting her to her feet.
“
I'm so sorry,” she laughed, turning red. “I haven't been to a beach in years. I forgot how unsettled they are.”
“
Those heels will make anything unsettling,” Ioan commented. “You should try going barefoot.”
“
Is that entirely proper?” Lavinia asked.
“
Naturally,” he said. “It's a beach.”
Lavinia placed her heels next to his shoes and the two continued barefooted across the sand. She clenched his arm when the tide came in and washed the sand from their feet. “I've never done this before,” she said.
“You've never wiggled your toes in the sand?”
“
I was never allowed to. Do you do this often?”
“
I used to,” Ioan said.
“
I never expected it to be so soothing.”
“
Go to sea then,” Ioan said. “You'll never wish to come back.”
“
Perhaps you'll oblige me one day,” she suggested. Ioan smiled politely. “You don't really have to,” she said. “I understand if you're hesitant towards the sea, after all you've been through. It explains why you keep all your shore view windows locked.”
“
It's not the sea I'm trying to shut out,” Ioan said. “It's me I'm trying to lock in. She's the only thing keeping me here. If it were up to me, I'd walk into the ocean and never look back.”
“
You should do this more often,” Lavinia suggested. “I like you like this. This is the real Mr. Saier.”
“
I didn't expect anyone to find me out here,” Ioan said.
“
Well, I don't mean to disturb you. I only wanted to give you this.” She draped the navy scarf over his shoulders. “You'll want to be careful. You'll catch your death out here when the sun goes down.”
“
Is this my uniform scarf?”
“
I restitched the White Star Line flag on the inside corner. I thought it should be preserved.”
“
Thank you,” Ioan said sincerely. “It's been through hell. It's a marvel you still mended it.”
“
Anything can be mended with a little patience,” Lavinia told him. He smiled at her. “I appreciate it.”
“
Enjoy your stroll, Mr. Saier.” She stumbled for her heels.
“
Miss Appleby,” Ioan stopped her. “May I ask you a personal question?”
“
Of course. Anything, sir.”
“
I don't know exactly how to say this, considering the circumstances, but are you fond of dancing?”
“
I am a dancer by trade, sir.”
“
Perhaps you wouldn't mind me escorting you to the concert tomorrow night. Miss Harlow is not yet well.”
“
I would love to go with you in support of your cause. I think it a very noble thing.”
“
Good,” Ioan said relieved. “Tomorrow night.”
“
Yes, sir,” she smiled at him. “Good day, sir.” Ioan watched her climb up the beach. Then his eyes met Cora's. She couldn't hear it all, but she knew enough by the look on Lavinia's face. Lavinia celebrated some big accomplishment. Ioan and Cora stood there for moments. He didn't dare move and she was too infuriated to shout at him. Lavinia had him where she wanted him. He was hers now. Cora turned and walked away. She carried on like nothing happened. She was ready to play along.
Chapter 13
Every piece laid on the bed in a specific order. White dress shirt, white vest, white bow tie, freshly pressed black trousers, long dress socks, shining black dress shoes, and a black waist coat. Ioan didn't wish for this even at his funeral. He made a note to die naked or in uniform, which he took more pride in than his family name. It hung away in the closet, perhaps forever this time. He had no idea when he'd return to sea. He gave up his own completeness for Cora's happiness. Yet, she wouldn't even go to dinner with him.
He didn't look at her as he passed her room. “Cora, I'm going out,” he said. No further explanation needed.
“
Good evening, Mr. Saier,” Lavinia greeted from the middle room.
“
I was going to send the car for you. You thought ahead of me,” Ioan said.
“
I don't mean to make you uneasy by showing up myself. I just thought if I arrived, we'd get there early. This is an important night for you. We don't want to risk being late,” she told him.
“
Of course,” Ioan replied politely. “You're lovely at night. Well, not that you weren't lovely before. It's just you're exceptionally lovely now.”
“
No harm done,” she said. “I know I'm lovely, but thank you anyway.”
“
Shall we then?” Ioan offered his arm. “Don't wait on me, Mrs. Dillsworth. I don't expect to ever come back.” He led Lavinia to the door but stopped. “Damn, my coat,” he remembered.
He turned around. Cora descended the stairs clipping on a pair of earrings. His smirk melted away. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders from a rhinestone bouquet of silver flowers. She wore a navy dress with a fitted waist and a sweetheart decolletage. The neckline left little to the imagination. Her shoulders were bare except for a lace scarf training from her elbows. It was almost unacceptable for a married woman and highly immodest for a single woman. Yet, she was stunning, like a wealthy heiress. Ioan was appalled.
“Miss Harlow, what are you all about?” he questioned.
“
Oh, Mr. Saier,” Cora said. “I thought you'd left for your concert.”
“
You haven't answered my question,” he persisted.
“
Why do you look so surprised?” she asked. “I'm going to the concert.”
Ioan noted how well her gown outlined her figure. “No, you're not,” he said.
“It's your big night,” she answered. “Of course I'm going.”
“
In that?” he demanded.
“
Don't you like it?” she asked.
“
You have nowt on! Where did you get that rubbish?”
“
It doesn't matter. I like it,” she said. A faint tap sounded at the door. Cora started to answer it.
“
Hang on. You're not going anywhere,” Ioan stopped her.
“
I'm entitled to go.”
“
You didn't want to go. I've already asked Miss Appleby to join me. I doubt there's enough room in the car for another.”
“
Oh, I don't mind stepping aside so Miss Harlow can go,” Miss Appleby said graciously.
“
Don't fret, Miss Appleby. He's yours tonight. I have my own escort,” Cora answered.
“
Escort,” Ioan chuckled. “Right, enough, Miss Harlow. You had your laugh. Go on back upstairs and put something on.”
“
Will you step aside or at least answer the door?” Cora suggested.
Ioan glowered at her. He yanked the door open. A gentleman in a evening suit stood at the door. He smiled at Ioan and titled his hat. “How do you do, sir?”
“Who the devil are you?” Ioan ordered.
“
Halsey Hamilton the second, stock broker and financial adviser.” He held out his hand. Ioan didn't shake it. “Cora!” Halsey exclaimed.
“
Halsey, dear, you're early,” she said, kissing both his cheeks.
“
I noticed,” he answered, striding pass Ioan and Lavinia.“I'm rather embarrassed, Miss Cora. I lack the vocabulary to describe you. You look exquisite.”
“
Exquisite is the word you use before you devour a meal,” Ioan remarked.
“
Oh yes, something especially delicious, isn't it? Chocolate strawberries. Bananas and whip cream. Cherry pies.”
Lavinia gullibility agreed. Ioan clenched his fist. He knew exactly what Halsey was getting at.
“You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Hamilton. I shall be the most hated woman in the room,” Cora complimented.
“
Quite,” Ioan interjected. They ignored him. The compliments and smiles went back and forth.
“
Let me stop you there,” Ioan turned to Cora. “You're head's lit if you think you're going with this sad bastard,” he whispered.
“
I'm sorry you feel that way, Ioan. However, his car is large enough to fit at least
five
people with no trouble.”
Mr. Hamilton chuckled. Ioan mimicked his laughter through gritted teeth. “Actually I thought it more fitting to bring the carriage. The air is fresh. I couldn't stuff myself in the car tonight.”
Ioan laughed. “Aw, you brought a horsey? Isn't that adorable?” he mocked. “Honestly, mate, no one uses those things anymore.”
Mr. Hamilton chuckled. “Good one, Mr. Saier. I'm sure by horsey you mean horse power. Of course no one's used it. It's an exclusive convertible model. I just call it the carriage. Shall we then, Miss Harlow?”
“After you, Mr. Hamilton.”
Mr. Hamilton escorted her to the door. Ioan stood in the way staring hard at him.
“Mr. Saier, the door, please,” Cora said airily.
“
I've got a keen eye on you,” Ioan warned Mr. Hamilton.
“
Ioan,
move
,” Cora said firmly.
“
Certainly.” He dragged his feet aside.
“
Thank you,” Cora sighed. She held her head high as Mr. Hamilton showed her out.
“
And when can we expect you back?” Ioan called.
“
I don't expect I shall ever come back,” Cora winked at him.
“
Make sure it's a giggle then!” Ioan called back. “Enjoy every minute of it!”
Lavinia touched Ioan's arm. “Come now, Mr. Saier,” she said. “They'll be alright.”
*
* *
“That man does have a keen eye, like a dog guarding his territory,” Halsey commented.
“
More like a pouting puppy,” Cora remarked.
“
Those eyes aren't for me, no sir. I think you should keep that dress. It's driving him out of his head,” Halsey told her.
“
You don't think he's catching on to us?” Cora grinned.
“
Not a chance. Look at his face. It's killing him. That man is drowning.”
“
He swims just fine.”
“
If you won't go save him, I will,” Halsey informed her. “Waste not, want not.”
“
You mean to add him to your collection now?” Cora giggled.
“
He's refreshing,” Halsey examined Ioan through his monocle. “I know all about the American adventurer, the fierce Italian lover, the mysterious native, the French dreamer, and my personal favorite, the passionate Latin. I've never had Welsh before. European men are particularly scrawny for my taste, but this one's a sailor. Still a bit on the scrawny side, but I surely see a seafarer in his build.”
“
Halsey, will you stop drooling over Mr. Saier?” Cora laughed. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth or he will notice. So humiliating. Let's walk away before he turns around.”
Halsey's eyes scanned the dessert table. “Thus, you wish to lure me with cream puffs so I won't gobble up your sailor? Evil girl.”
“Halsey, no. You promised yourself.”
“
You're right. Damn those cream puffs.”
“
What do you suppose they're talking about?” Ioan asked, chugging a shot of brandy. “Why does she keep laughing?”
“
Something exceptionally funny,” Lavinia answered.
“
I don't find anything funny,” Ioan said. “No one laughs that goddamned much. It's ridiculous.”
Lavinia grinned. “Who can resist a man with a sense of humor?”
“I don't like him,” Ioan said flat out. “He's a dodgy character. I don't like him at all.”
“
Of course, Mr. Saier,” Lavinia smiled.
“
Another brandy, sir?” a waiter offered.
Ioan grabbed two glasses. He offered Lavinia one. She declined. He swallowed them both. “You're her tutoress, aren't you? Shouldn't you be teaching her something?”
“Now? Miss Harlow is occupied.”
“
She has time. She's not doing anything productive,” Ioan answered, walking away.
“
And Mr. Saier is compromised,” Cora said, watching him charge for the bar. “I hope he's learned his lesson.”
“
You're bad,” Halsey grinned. He glanced at the cream puffs nearby. “Really bad.”
“
It's our secret, Halsey,” Cora answered. “He'll never know.”
“
Alright,” he decided. “But just one.” “What?” she asked. “Wait! Halsey!” He charged for the dessert table, and never found his way back.
“
Miss Harlow, Mr. Saier gives his speech in five minutes. The journalist are requesting you,” Mr. Spruce said.
“
I need to powder my nose first,” Cora said.
“
In haste. He's expecting you,” Mr. Spruce told her.
Cora followed the staircase to the ladies' room. A soprano wailed down the hall as she looked in the mirror. “Grace,” she reminded herself. “And look happy. Happiness and grace.” She thought of everything that made her happy. “Lavenders, chocolates, fresh paper, candlelight.” The lights flickered. Cora glanced around her. There was no one else in the room. Perhaps it was just the wind. She turned back to the mirror to fix her curls. The lights flickered again. Her heart skipped. She looked down the hall. “Hello?” she called. No one was there.
She stepped into the room again. The door slammed shut. Cora pulled the handle. It wouldn't budge. She knocked on the door. “Hello? I'm still here!” she called. “You've locked me in!” The lights flickered three more times and blew out. Darkness swallowed the room.
It was no accident. Cora stood still against the door trying to adjust to the dark. All she heard was the soprano downstairs. Her gloved hand reached for a fire poker nearby. She slipped out of her heels and pushed them aside. She waited. The air rushed pass her ear and a knife landed a hair away from her. She tried so hard not to scream, but a small shriek escaped her frightened lips. The knives dived for her. She fell to the floor and crawled for cover, dragging the poker along with her.
A hand grabbed her ankle and yanked her toward the center. She felt a man's heavy breathing on her face.
“
Please,” she cried. “I don't have any money but if you let me go, I can get you some.” He slammed his knife into the wooden floor and pressed his weight against her body. He ripped the glove from her hand. Cora feared the worst. “Please,” she pleaded. “Please, don't. I'm going to be married soon. You can have anything else. Please, I beg of you.”
The man didn't touch anymore of her clothing. He yanked the knife from the floor board and skated the blade across her palm. Cora closed her eyes tightly against her tears. Her heart pounded. No one heard her.
The man bathed the knife in her blood then stabbed it into the floor. A bleeding parchment hung by the handle. He leaped out the open window. Fear forbade her to get up. She could only cry.
Ioan took his place before the crowd. Halsey's jaws sped at the dessert table. Cora was not there.
“Thank you all for your generous contributions tonight,” he said. “As you know, I am a survivor, but there are many who weren't as lucky as I. I feel it is my duty to them and those I served to officially establish this charity fund for Titanic families. With this charity, I hope to quiet the troubled hearts of the widows and give back a future to their children. I will accomplish this by providing grants for food, shelter, and education based on a proven need for assistance-”
“
God have mercy!” a woman screamed from the back. “She's bleeding!” Cora stumbled into the room. She was still shocked. Her glove hung in shreds from her wrist. Blood trailed on the wooden floor. She tried to speak, but her head spun too fast. All she heard was the blood in her ears. Ioan knocked over everything in his path to get to her. He caught her before her head hit the floor. He gawked at the blood staining her gown. “Cora, what's happened to you?” he cried. “Someone please find a doctor!”