Remembering the Titanic (17 page)

Katie nodded. Astonished to find herself in the company of the girl from the ship, she couldn’t help thinking that her hostess looked poorly. She was as white as the snow just beginning to fall outside, and her eyes seemed shiny, as if she needed to cry but hadn’t yet. There seemed nothing festive or gay about her, yet this was a holiday party in
her
house. Was she … Elizabeth, she had introduced herself as … was Elizabeth not having a good time at her own party? Perhaps she’d had an argument with the handsome, heroic Max and he had refused to come to her party. Thinking of Max made Katie think of Paddy, off somewhere with Belle most likely, and it brought a sharp stab of pain to her heart. Love is so hurtful, she thought as Elizabeth led them to the ballroom, ’tis a wonder anyone ever bothers with it at all. We’d be better off avoiding it the same way we try to steer clear of contagious diseases like the plague and influenza.

As for Elizabeth, she wanted to ask the girl … Kathleen … about the other brother, the one she hadn’t seen on the
Carpathia
. But she was afraid that inquiring about him would cause the girl pain.

She looks different, Elizabeth thought when she had presented the singer and her agent to Nola, who led them away to discuss the evening’s program. She has … grown up. She’s matured from a pretty young girl to a woman, and one who doesn’t seem at all aware of how beautiful she is. But there was something else about Miss Hanrahan, something more than just the passage of almost two years’ time. Gone was the eager, excited look of anticipation Elizabeth had seen as the red-haired girl left the tender in Ireland and climbed aboard the great ship. It had been replaced by … what? Pain? Sadness? Loss? There was something…

I’ve seen that look somewhere else, Elizabeth thought as she waited for her mother to return and Claire accepted an invitation to dance. I’m not sure where … then she realized where. In a mirror every time she looked into one. And in the faces attending all those memorial ceremonies and services for victims of the
Titanic
.

Elizabeth wondered if that look would always be there, no matter how many years had passed since the ship went down.

She was afraid it would.

Still reeling from the revelation of her mother’s cruel deception but reluctant to ruin the Irish girl’s performance by causing a scene, Elizabeth fought to control her feelings of rage. It was difficult. How dare her mother trick her so cruelly? Cause her such worry, when she was already frightened of losing the only parent she had left? Had Nola never thought of that … the fear she was instilling in her daughter by her charade? Or had her only selfish thought been to keep Elizabeth by her side, whatever the cost to Elizabeth?

How could such a cruel hoax ever be forgiven?

It was fortunate that the treacherous Dr. Fenton Cooper had not been invited. Fortunate for
his
sake. Elizabeth was so angry and disgusted with his lack of ethics, she thought she might well have seized a carving knife from the buffet table and threatened him with it, forcing him to admit his deceitful practices to all present.

It was so odd … she was surrounded by people laughing, dancing, eating, drinking, having a grand, festive time, just as Nola had planned, and yet she, daughter of the hostess, was miserable.
I’m
not having a wonderful time, she thought bitterly.

If only Max were here. He would take her in his arms and listen as she poured out the story of her mother’s enormous lie. And then he would say …

Yes, Elizabeth? she asked herself. What
would
Max say? You know him so well. What do you
think
he would say?

She knew. She
knew
what Max would say. She could hear that deep, warm voice saying as clearly as if he really were standing next to her, “Finding out the truth about what she’s done should set you free, Elizabeth. You know now that she isn’t sick. She never was. She lied to you. Your father wouldn’t condone that, would he? He seemed an honest person to me. I think he would release you from your promise. I think he would say, ‘You owe her nothing now. You are free to go.’ ”

But Max didn’t know how her parents were with each other. It wasn’t true that her father wouldn’t have forgiven her mother. Martin Farr adored his wife. He’d have forgiven her anything.

But
I
don’t have to, Elizabeth told herself. And now that I know she’s well, I don’t have to stay here. I can leave. I can go to Max’s. I can go to his party, have a wonderful time, see his new paintings….

But then what would she do at the end of the evening? She couldn’t very well stay at Max’s. They weren’t even engaged. His friends wouldn’t disapprove, certainly not Anne, who was a free-thinker, but even if Elizabeth could somehow manage to throw her own upbringing aside, she was fairly sure Max wouldn’t let her. “You’d regret it tomorrow,” he would probably say.

Perhaps Anne would take her in, just for a night or two until Elizabeth had figured out a plan. I’ll get a job, she resolved, knowing even as she thought it that her choices were limited. I could be a salesgirl at Lord & Taylor, she thought, almost smiling. Who knows their stock better than I? Nola, of course, but she’s not looking for a job.

Buoyed by even such an infant of a plan, Elizabeth found a seat on the left side of the ballroom and slid into it just as Nola returned to introduce the evening’s entertainment. Judging by the enthusiastic round of applause as the singer entered the ballroom and took her place in front of the orchestra, Elizabeth guessed that many of the guests were already familiar with Miss Hanrahan’s talent.

And it
was
talent. Elizabeth listened in rapt attention as the sweet strains of one Irish ballad after another soared out into the ballroom. The girl, so simply dressed in green velvet with no jewelry or ornamentation of any kind, contrasted sharply with the lavishly decorated ballroom. The lush green garlands draped overhead, the round gold and silver globes catching the light of hundreds of candles scattered about the room, the giant tree at the far end, heavily laden with ornaments, all of it suddenly seemed almost gaudy compared to the dignified simplicity of Kathleen Hanrahan.

When the poignant strains of “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” died away, Elizabeth marveled at the sight of tears dampening the faces of sophisticated New Yorkers, including, in at least three cases, men. The singer herself looked nearly shattered as the last note died, her own eyes shining with tears.

“That was truly marvelous,” Elizabeth complimented the young woman when she had made her way through the congratulatory crowd. “You have a lovely voice, and your stage presence is impressive. I enjoyed every moment of your performance.”

The singer smiled. “Thank you kindly,” she said softly. “And I don’t mean to pry, but I remember you, too, from the ship, and I was wonderin’, is your friend Max doing well? He is a hero to me, you know. I saw him at one of the memorials. Sketchin’ away, he was. Is he not here, then? I wouldn’t mind thankin’ him one more time for savin’ the children.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. He’s hosting his own holiday party tonight. I was invited, but my mother had already planned this party. I wish he could have heard you sing. He’s very fond of music.”

Happy that the two were still together, Katie asked, “You are both recovered then, from that terrible night?”

Elizabeth had been smiling. The smile vanished. “Oh, well … I suppose so. I mean, we were so much luckier than others.” She stopped herself from adding, It’s just that I still have nightmares and I cannot get warm and I lost more than my father that night, I lost my future, too. And Max suffers, too, I think, but won’t talk about it. She had a feeling she could tell this girl anything and she would be understood. But not now, not here. Perhaps another time…

Katie nodded. “Aye, we were all lucky. But,” she added soberly as a beaming Flo appeared at her elbow, “that don’t stop the nightmares, does it?”

I knew she would understand, Elizabeth thought, feeling a kinship with the girl. She yearned to sit and talk with her at length. But other people were clamoring to speak with Kathleen Hanrahan, and her agent was urging her to “mingle.” “Never know which of these fine folk might be needin’ a singer when the holidays is over,” Elizabeth heard the woman say.

She did manage to ask quietly just before Miss Hanrahan moved away, “The young men who boarded the ship with you … brothers, they looked to be … are they … did they make it back safely?”

The lovely face clouded. “Only one,” she answered, her voice heavy with regret. “Only one. And he…” Before she could say any more, Flo Chambers led her away to the guests waiting to heap praise upon her.

So, Elizabeth thought sadly, watching her go, it
was
the older brother they were searching for on the rescue ship. Still Elizabeth knew it was the younger brother the girl loved.

She wondered briefly if the aftermath of that long, terrible night had been as painful and difficult for Kathleen Hanrahan and the younger brother as it had been for her and Max. Perhaps not. Perhaps Miss Hanrahan had left each and every member of her family miles away in Ireland and thus
had
no deceitful, manipulative mother to contend with here in her new country.

But
I
am not so lucky, Elizabeth reminded herself. And party or no party, guests or no guests, it’s time to do something about it.

Taking two deep breaths and letting them out slowly, she went in search of her mother.

T
HOUGH
E
LIZABETH’S HEART WAS
pounding like the orchestra drums as she sought out her mother, she found it fortunate that most of the guests were gathered around Miss Hanrahan. If the confrontation became an unpleasant scene, perhaps they would be less likely to notice.

Elizabeth wasted no time when she located Nola in the butler’s pantry, discussing with Cook the finishing touches on the dessert. Was the chocolate Yule log to have an accompaniment of homemade vanilla ice cream, prepared that very morning, Cook wanted to know, or was the topping to be fresh, heavy cream that had been whipped to a snowy froth? “Typical, Elizabeth thought darkly. Another of the crucial, demanding decisions my mother I must make each and every day of her life. These are the matters she uses to exercise her brain. Well, not
me
. I want much more than that in my life, and I’m going to have it.

“Mother, how
could
you?” she fairly hissed in Nola’s face. Elizabeth had waited only until Cook returned to the kitchen, the matter of the Yule log topping decided … whipped cream, not ice cream … before planting herself firmly in her mother’s path, barring any exit from the pantry. “How could you deceive me like that? As for Fenton Cooper, M.D., he should have his license to practice medicine revoked. Perhaps I shall see to it. Perhaps when I go to Vassar I shall study law instead of literature and one day see to it that the man is drummed out of medicine forever.”

Nola grasped the situation immediately. She never flinched, or paled, or flushed with guilt. “We have guests. This will have to wait.”

Elizabeth stood her ground. “It can’t wait.
I
can’t wait. I’ve waited so long already, haven’t I, Mother? Haven’t I been the very soul of patience? Every mother in New York should wish for a daughter as patient as I.” She had begun speaking quietly, in deference to their guests, though her voice shook. But Nola’s insulting lack of guilt or remorse removed every last trace of caution. What did she care what the guests thought? They were
Nola’s
friends, not hers … except for Claire, of course, to whom she would now be indebted for life. Why shouldn’t Nola’s guests learn of her deception?

Oh, but they already do, you silly girl, a voice in her head scoffed. And Elizabeth realized instantly that of course it was true. Her mother’s friends had to know. Hadn’t Claire said everyone knew about Fenton Cooper? Everyone except Elizabeth, of course. Nola’s friends would have guessed immediately what she was up to. Which explained why they hadn’t been half as worried or concerned as her daughter.

She had thought earlier that she couldn’t feel any more stupid. She’d been wrong.

“How could you do something so vile?” She was speaking loudly, clearly now, her voice no longer shaking. “You tricked me into believing you were ill! Frightening me, worrying me, how could you? I’ve lost Father, and you let me believe I might be in danger of losing you, too. How can I ever forgive you for that, Mother?”

Nola did pale then. “I made it very clear to Fenton,” she said defensively, “that it was only to be a minor heart condition. Nothing serious. I
explained
that to him. It’s not my fault if he disregarded my instructions. I had no desire to frighten you, Elizabeth. I never intended that.” Her lower lip thrust forward. “It’s cruel of you to suggest that I would be so wicked. I never would.”

“Cruel of
me
?” Elizabeth’s voice rose another decibel or two. “
I’m
cruel?”

Nola’s flush deepened, but her defenses remained strong. “I never knew exactly what Fenton said to you. Remember, I wasn’t there. How was I to know he hadn’t followed my very precise instructions to the letter?”

“You knew I was
worried
about you. You knew that much. I didn’t try to hide it.” Elizabeth’s tone sharpened. She knew her voice was carrying far beyond the pantry. She didn’t care. “Worried enough to turn down my admission to Vassar, and my scholarship. Worried enough to give up any chance at leading my own life, and stay here with you. You knew I had to be
very
worried to give all that up, Mother. And Dr. Cooper
didn’t
disobey your instructions. But he also made it very clear that you were not to be agitated or upset. Was that part of your instruction to him? He made it sound as if something very dire might happen if I ignored his opinions. Was
that
part of your instruction? Did you
order
him to give me that impression? Because my leaving for Vassar would have done just that, wouldn’t it, Mother? It would have been very agitating and upsetting for you. Wonderful for
me
, mind you … but very, very bad for someone with a heart condition who didn’t
want
me to leave. Someone selfish and shallow and spoiled.”