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Author: Janice Thompson
his message.
As they made their way up the incline toward the cottage, Tessa bit back the temptation to cry. Tears would do her no good. This she knew from years of allowing them to flow after such a tirade on Pa’s part. No, only one thing made sense: she would square her shoulders, bide her time, and then, when life presented just the right opportunity, run as fast and as far from this place as she possibly could.
Chapter Three
Wednesday, March 13, 1912
Abingdon Manor, Richmond, England
The next several days at Abingdon Manor were spent in a whirlwind. Jacquie smiled and nodded every time her father mentioned Roland’s name, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. On the inside, however, she quivered like the cook’s chocolate mousse.
She kept a watchful eye on The Times , her heart rate skipping to double time as she read various articles on the excitement surrounding Titanic ’s upcoming voyage. To think, she would be onboard. The very idea gave her a chill. And if all went as planned, she would not be alone.
A delicious satisfaction wrapped her as she thought about the plan she’d concocted. Of course, she still had to run it by Peter, but how could he resist? Surely by now he’d read the note she’d left under her favorite flowerpot in the greenhouse. He knew about her so-called engagement to Roland. With that very thing in mind, Peter would surely jump on her idea. Then the two of them could get to work at ironing out the particulars. She could hardly wait.
Just four weeks shy of the ship’s sailing, Jacquie was summoned to the master suite. She found her mother seated at the dressing table, fussing with her hair. As she gazed at the reflection in the oval mirror, Jacquie couldn’t help but notice the wrinklesaround Mama’s eyes. They seemed to grow deeper every day. Perhaps the stress of their secret project had her mother feeling more anxious than usual.
“Jacquie, you’re here.” Mama turned and extended a hand, her eyes glistening with tears. “A present has arrived with your name on it.” She slid open one of the tiny drawers on the vanity and pulled out some unfamiliar papers.
Jacquie took a step forward, smiling as she saw the insignia for the Titanic on the top page. “Is this—I mean, is this it? My ticket?”
“And your itinerary.” Her mother rose and pulled her close, her voice still low. “Your grandmother has been extremely generous, my dear. You will have to thank her properly when you arrive in New York. The cost of a first-class ticket was, well—” She giggled. “Let’s just say even Roland Palmer himself would have chosen a more reasonably priced room.” Her expression grew more serious. “But you’re worth it, Jacquie. You deserve the very best, which is exactly why I feel more strongly each day that you must leave here.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“Your grandmother has booked a suite with two rooms so that Iris can travel with you.”
“I–Iris?”
“Well, of course, silly girl. You didn’t think I would send you off across the Atlantic without her, did you?” Mother’s expression tightened. “No respectable young woman would travel such a great distance alone. Besides, you will need your lady’s maid to help with dressing and hair and such. She will be a treasure to you, I’m sure. And what a great sacrifice she is making, to leave her family here in England so that she might attend to your needs. We owe her a great deal of thanks.”
“Of course, but…” The words drifted off as Jacquie’s heart wriggled its way into her stomach. She hadn’t planned on this. Having Iris along would complicate her plans on many levels, though she certainly couldn’t say so.
Mama turned back to the mirror and continued running the brush through her hair in careful, even strokes. She finally paused then spoke to Jacquie’s reflection. “I guess you’ve heard that Roland is coming for lunch today. There was nothing I could do to avoid it, but I feel sure
As they made their way up the incline toward the cottage, Tessa bit back the temptation to cry. Tears would do her no good. This she knew from years of allowing them to flow after such a tirade on Pa’s part. No, only one thing made sense: she would square her shoulders, bide her time, and then, when life presented just the right opportunity, run as fast and as far from this place as she possibly could.
Chapter Three
Wednesday, March 13, 1912
Abingdon Manor, Richmond, England
The next several days at Abingdon Manor were spent in a whirlwind. Jacquie smiled and nodded every time her father mentioned Roland’s name, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. On the inside, however, she quivered like the cook’s chocolate mousse.
She kept a watchful eye on The Times , her heart rate skipping to double time as she read various articles on the excitement surrounding Titanic ’s upcoming voyage. To think, she would be onboard. The very idea gave her a chill. And if all went as planned, she would not be alone.
A delicious satisfaction wrapped her as she thought about the plan she’d concocted. Of course, she still had to run it by Peter, but how could he resist? Surely by now he’d read the note she’d left under her favorite flowerpot in the greenhouse. He knew about her so-called engagement to Roland. With that very thing in mind, Peter would surely jump on her idea. Then the two of them could get to work at ironing out the particulars. She could hardly wait.
Just four weeks shy of the ship’s sailing, Jacquie was summoned to the master suite. She found her mother seated at the dressing table, fussing with her hair. As she gazed at the reflection in the oval mirror, Jacquie couldn’t help but notice the wrinklesaround Mama’s eyes. They seemed to grow deeper every day. Perhaps the stress of their secret project had her mother feeling more anxious than usual.
“Jacquie, you’re here.” Mama turned and extended a hand, her eyes glistening with tears. “A present has arrived with your name on it.” She slid open one of the tiny drawers on the vanity and pulled out some unfamiliar papers.
Jacquie took a step forward, smiling as she saw the insignia for the Titanic on the top page. “Is this—I mean, is this it? My ticket?”
“And your itinerary.” Her mother rose and pulled her close, her voice still low. “Your grandmother has been extremely generous, my dear. You will have to thank her properly when you arrive in New York. The cost of a first-class ticket was, well—” She giggled. “Let’s just say even Roland Palmer himself would have chosen a more reasonably priced room.” Her expression grew more serious. “But you’re worth it, Jacquie. You deserve the very best, which is exactly why I feel more strongly each day that you must leave here.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“Your grandmother has booked a suite with two rooms so that Iris can travel with you.”
“I–Iris?”
“Well, of course, silly girl. You didn’t think I would send you off across the Atlantic without her, did you?” Mother’s expression tightened. “No respectable young woman would travel such a great distance alone. Besides, you will need your lady’s maid to help with dressing and hair and such. She will be a treasure to you, I’m sure. And what a great sacrifice she is making, to leave her family here in England so that she might attend to your needs. We owe her a great deal of thanks.”
“Of course, but…” The words drifted off as Jacquie’s heart wriggled its way into her stomach. She hadn’t planned on this. Having Iris along would complicate her plans on many levels, though she certainly couldn’t say so.
Mama turned back to the mirror and continued running the brush through her hair in careful, even strokes. She finally paused then spoke to Jacquie’s reflection. “I guess you’ve heard that Roland is coming for lunch today. There was nothing I could do to avoid it, but I feel sure
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