Chapter 7
The cool night air flowed around my feet as I treaded through the promenade deck. It was mostly empty now, the men getting drunk in the smoking room and the ladies retired to their cabins. I strolled along absentmindedly until I came across a familiar figure sitting on a deck chair. Henry continued to nurse a bottle of brandy as I sat next to him.
“What are you doing here? Haven’t you gotten into enough trouble tonight?” He said quietly, giving me a meticulous once-over. My eyes narrowed defensively.
“Don’t patronize me. I’ve had enough of that today.” I said frostily.
“I don’t think you’ve had enough, Ophelia.”
“Excuse me?” The indignation in my voice was unmistakable. Most people would be frightened, but Henry was not an average person. He met my eyes evenly when he replied,a determined fire burning in them.
“Why didn’t you just keep your head down and say yes? It would’ve been so much easier.” He insisted, running a messy hand through his hair anxiously.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” I yelled, losing all control of my anger. Henry was the last person whom I wanted to be lectured by. “Who do you think you are?”
“I’m the man that loves you!”
“You’re the man who left me.” I reminded bitterly, scowling at his sense of unbending authority.
“I did that to protect you!” He countered, ignorant to the falter in my step.
“What did you say?” If he was trying to make a silly excuse, then he could go to hell. I wanted the truth, or nothing at all.
“Do you honestly think I wanted to leave you?!” His chest was rising and falling as he took large gulps of salty sea air. “I never wanted to leave. But my father left me no choice.”
“Oh, what are you going on about?” The streak of impatience was clear in my tone. Henry opened his mouth and then snapped it close, struggling for the right words.
“My father…he told me not to think seriously of you. But I did. I fell in love with you. I never took him seriously, and it was such a mistake.” I glanced at him silently and urged him to continue.
“Father…he was plotting to kill you.” I choked a little.
“He did what now?”
“I came across one of his letters. He was corresponding with a gunman.” He explained clumsily, the information pouring from him.
“But it could’ve bee anyone.” I argued weakly.
“Maybe. But it clearly stated you as the target. It also gave a copy of your schedule, in detail.”
“…Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was better for you not to know.” I was sick of people telling me what to do. The whole reason Henry caught my eye was because he didn’t presume to ‘enlighten’ me. He treated me as an equal, and took my opinion into as much consideration as I did his. But as it turned out, he had been the first person to start making choices for me.
My voice was eerily quiet as I replied. “I don’t need anyone to make choices for me. I don’t need someone to make the ‘best decision’ while holding my fate in their hands. And I certainly don’t need you choosing to tear us apart without even caring for my opinion.” He looked absolutely bewildered as I wrapped my arms around myself and stood from the deck chair. He glanced up at me, eyebrows almost up to his hairline. The few people who were on deck stood so far away that I felt as in a different world.
“You took the liberty to make the first choice, so I’ll make the last.” With that, I turned on my foot and clattered off deck hastily. I heard Henry rustle to his feet and pace after me, but he eventually he chose to stay behind. I changed for bed absentmindedly, in no mood to reminisce. Mother was surprisingly mellow, easily accepting my fake excuse. She didn’t even question the fact that I had been ‘spending’ some time with Cristina in her cabin. Perhaps I was abusing any sense of pity she held for me, but I felt some sense of justice in the thought that I was betraying her like she betrayed me.
The next morning she had quite a fright over my bruised face. Stanley’s backhand left a large purple bruise on my cheek, which was insisted that I cover up. But I was proud of my bruise. I showed it off while I eat breakfast in the dining saloon, ignoring the scandalized gazes. I wanted to taunt the other women, albeit morbidly: I took a hit, what have you done for yourself lately? Stanley would never regret hurting me, but he would sure regret it when the word of his violence got around.
“You’re slouching.” Mom hissed behind her teacup. My spine automatically corrected itself as I shot her an annoyed look. Cristina and Annabelle were a few tables away eating lunch with a girl I recognized from second class, while I had somehow gotten roped in to having lunch with Penelope.
“Miss Royce, how has your journey been so far?” Mother inquired politely, pretending to be interested. Penelope was one of the swoony types, which I knew mother disliked to the extreme.
“It’s been very enjoyable, Mrs. Ashby. The luxuries on this ship are splendid, as is the company.” Penelope said brightly.
“Speaking of which, I cannot ignore the fact that you seem to be very close to the Duke.” It was more than obvious which Duke she was referring to: Henry was not only the only Duke on the ship, but he was also incredibly popular in general. I felt a flare of irritation at the mention of his name. He was no better than the rest of them.
“Henry and I have spent a lot of time together,” She smiled indulgently, like she was showing off an exclusively designed dress by the best designer of France. “and father has encouraged our union. Henry, however, seems adamant.” Penelope uttered the last part reluctantly. So he wasn’t interested in her, I thought smugly.
“Adamant?” Mother echoed, encouraging Penelope to speak further.
“I’m afraid he views me more like a sister. Every time I try to spend time with him he becomes withdrawn. I even tried to speak with him after dinner, but he was nowhere to be found.” She sighed. It suddenly occurred to me that I had been the one keeping Henry from her last night. I stared at Penelope impassively and kept an innocent expression on my face.
There was an awkward silence at the table. The silence was beckoning me to spill the truth, so to distract myself, I said, “That’s too bad.” Mother’s calculating gaze suddenly fell on me shrewdly, as if she just realized I was sitting beside her. Penelope finished her lunch and promptly excused herself. As soon as she was out of earshot Mother rounded on me.
“Have you lost your mind?”
I looked at her with a mix of surprise and confusion. “Pardon?”
“Henry was missing last night.” She retorted, as if that explained everything. And coincidentally, it did.
“Yes, so I’ve heard.” I murmur casually, trying my best to imitate her dismissive manner that always seemed to work. But it didn’t work this time. If anything, mother appeared to be more incensed.
“And so were you. You better pray that my suspicions aren’t true.” She hissed darkly, being mindful of our surroundings. Her clear blue eyes, which often reminded me of the sky on a sunny day, appeared to be as furious as the stormy Atlantic.
I avoided her gaze furtively and pretended to be offended. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse me of, but it’s not true.” Mother took a glance at Cristina, who was preparing to leave, and yanked me to my feet.
“Let’s find out about that.” She pulled me along in the direction of Cristina, who halted when she saw us approach.
“What are you doing?” The panic was nearly evident in my voice. I resisted the urge to dig my feet into the ground and run in the opposite direction. I felt childish, but that was only because I was ridiculously afraid on facing mother’s undiluted rage. She was a snide fighter, using words and snark, and those were the worst.
“We’re going to test your alibi.” She answered resolutely.
“Mrs. Ashby, Ophelia.” Cristina greeted, nodding at each of us. Her brilliant red hair was pinned up gracefully, gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the window
. She looked pleased to see me, although rather puzzled at the determined expression on mother’s face.
My mother jumped into interrogation without preamble. “Hello Cristina. I wanted to ask where you were last night after dinner?” Interestingly enough, Cristina morphed into an unflattering shade of red. The blush stretched from her face well into her neck, where her skin met the neck of her dress. Cristina was bold and confident, and quite honestly I don’t think I’ve ever seen her blush. Thankfully I was angled behind mother as Cristina’s worried gaze met mine. I pointed to myself hastily, providing her with an answer.
“I-I was with Ophelia, of course.” She stuttered, chuckling nervously. Her answer sounded more like a question, but then again she was practically playing a game of charades. Mother glanced over her shoulder at me, unconvinced. I stared back at her blankly, supporting Cristina’s story. It was evident she wanted to ask more, but this wasn’t the right time or place—especially with hordes of gossip-hungry women around.
“Very well. Ophelia, if I discover you’ve been behaving other than exemplary there will be consequences.” Mother assured, giving me a weary look before striding off and offering her greetings to Lady Duff Gordon.
“What just happened?” Cristina blurted.
“It’s a long story.” I said quietly, not sure where to begin. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to begin. I couldn’t exactly explain without having to recount last night, and I wasn’t looking forward to reliving the experience so soon.
“I think I’ll keep up. I mean, I kept up with your impossible excuse, which I had no idea even existed until I was involved in it.” She retorted, scowling. I glanced at her apologetically.
“Let’s take this somewhere else.” I suggested quietly, taking up Cristina when she offered to visit her cabin. Her room was decorated in a more modern manner, but it was still very luxurious. The sitting room had a warm fire crackling behind wide brocaded arm chairs. On the mantle, there was a vase full of fresh flowers.
“I have this room all to myself, so you can speak in confidence.” She said, encouraging me to make myself comfortable in the sitting room. I dropped into one of the arm chairs unceremoniously, crossing and un-crossing my legs as I found a way to begin.
“Alright, start talking.”
“I saw Henry last night. Again.” Cristina gave me an unimpressed look and propped her legs up on a low table that sat in front of her.
“I’m not surprised. You two were making eyes at each other all night.” She said, unsurprised.
“That’s not the worst of it. The things he said…” She suddenly leaned forward, much more interested in my story.
“Keep talking,” She urged. Her eyes narrowed but remained unblinking.
“Henry wanted me to leave Stanley and marry him instead.” Cristina mouth fell open in shock and she gaped at me for long seconds.
“Well, what did you answer?”
“That’s where it gets complicated. I don’t want to fall in love with him blindly all over again to get hurt. He…he told me why he left me.” Cristina waved her hand at me in agitation, begging me to continue.
“Henry told me he had been trying to protect me.” I continued vaguely. She wrinkled her nose in confusion.
“Protect you from what?”
“He was protecting me from his father. Apparently he had plotting to…to kill me.” I had to spit out the last part forcefully. Thinking someone tried to kill me was shocking, but saying out loud solidified it somehow, and made it that much more frightening.
Cristina pitched forward in her seat with an unbelieving gasp. “That’s impossible. I know he didn’t like you, but trying to kill you is a bit much!”
“That’s what I thought. But Henry said he found correspondence between his father and a gunman that suggested otherwise.” I said flatly.
Cristina’s mouth flapped open and closed as she tried to fumble for words. “Did he go to the police?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask…I was just so angry with him. He chose to leave because he wanted to keep me safe.” I said, grimacing at the latter word. Right now I wanted to be anything but safe. “I know he was trying to do me a favor, but I would’ve preferred to stay by his side. We would have found a way. Together.”
Cristina’s eyes, the color of bright foliage on a sunny day, contemplated me hopelessly. “Are you truly that upset with him? He was, after all, being mindful of your safety.”
I picked at the delicate lace sleeves of my dress in hopes of fumbling for an answer. “I just…we were a team. And I would’ve rather suffered everything that his father could’ve thrown at us together than going a day without him.”
“Considering everything that happened after Henry left, being upset makes sense. His actions snowballed into moving away with your uncle, and perhaps even arranged to Stanley. It is infuriating to know someone altered your life so much without giving a choice.” She said thoughtfully.
“What should I do?” Cristina never tried to throw her opinion on people, but right now I needed her council. She turned a strand of her fiery hair through her finger while she thought of an answer.
“I think it’s obvious that Henry made a mistake. But he did it for love, not to brow-beat you or make you submit. I think you’re very fortunate to have him, someone who would sacrifice themselves to keep you safe. Take advantage of his love before it becomes too late, Ophelia.” She finished, smiling kindly. She was right. Henry made a mistake, but he did it because he loved me. I couldn’t help the foolish smile that broke out on my face in realization.
Cristina rolled her eyes heavenward, muttering something about ‘lovesick fool’. “I’ve got somewhere to be, but you can use my cabin as long as you like.” She said, plucking a pretty silk shawl from her bedroom and draping it around herself. I heaved a determined sigh and marched out of the cabin before I cowered.
I was just about to make up an excuse and shuffle away when Henry swung the door to his cabin open. “Ophelia. Come in.” He said breathlessly, stepping back to let me through the door. His normally windswept hair looked stringier today, and he had dark circles under his eyes, the kind that only came around after a bad night’s sleep. We regarded each other tentatively before he spoke up.
“I’m sorry about what happened. It was a mistake, but I was desperate to keep you alive.” I held up a hand before he could continue. He looked desperate to explain, but not as desperate as I felt.
“Henry, I didn’t mean what I said yesterday.”
His eyes lit up. “You didn’t?”
“No. I was having a rough night, and I was being selfish.” I murmured, reaching up and running my hand through his hair. His hair was as silky and untamed as I remembered. “I mean, I am upset about what you did, but what’s done is done. I want to move on while I still can…with you.”
He gave me a dazzling smile. “Of course, Ophelia. Anything for you.” He wrapped his warm arms around me and held me tight. I smiled into his shoulder as his scent washed through me.
“There’ll be a lot of things we’ll have to face, Henry.” I reminded him. “But we will do it, together.” He nodded against my head firmly and placed a chaste kiss on the top of my head.
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked, but I couldn’t help repeating the question ringing in my head. “Henry…why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“…it all happened so soon.” He explained. “I was afraid father would hurt you. And I knew if I told you anything you wouldn’t leave. I love you so much, and I couldn’t bring myself to put you in danger. I just couldn’t, birdy.” A warm flush ran through me as his words rang in the air. Birdy had always been his pet name for me.
“Do you know why I call you birdy?” Hot air tickled my skin as he whispered. I shook my head. “I call you birdy because you showed me what it was like to be free. And sometimes, if you truly love something, you have to let it go. You have to set it free for its own good.”
My eyes stung with unshed tears, tears of
joy and appreciation. So I did the only thing I could think of to show what I felt for him at that moment. “Kiss me.”