An Unsinkable Love

chapter 18


Bree sat in bed, hands knotted in her lap. Elizabeth had eventually taken her leave after trying to reassure Bree the loss of all her money and personal belongings wasn't the end of the world. They'd argued when Elizabeth offered to replace everything, but Bree hadn't had the strength to continue. As a compromise, Elizabeth accepted Bree's offer to go through the older woman's clothing and make alterations as needed to repay any costs incurred. It was a hard sell. Bree was sure Elizabeth only agreed so she would calm down—that, and the fact an important wedding was due to take place at the hospital in a few moments.

Alone for the time being, Bree took the opportunity to wash her hair. She welcomed the short respite from her narrow bed, although bathing in the tiny hospital tub was a chore. Despite her misgivings, she was excited about going north with the DuMonts. Elizabeth's glowing description of the heavily wooded rolling hills, tumbling brooks, white clapboard buildings and deep grass pastures sounded wonderful. Any view would be an improvement on the dirty brick wall a few feet outside her grimy window. She'd been in America for more than a week, and all she'd seen were those bricks.

She sat in a chair by the flyspecked window and brushed her hair dry. She was bored and restless. Dr. Tumey had regretfully denied her request to go to the wedding, concerned her weakened condition would too easily allow her to catch something else.

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"Oh, well, Elizabeth will return soon. She promised to tell me all about the ceremony," she muttered as she stood and wandered around, eventually plopping down on the hard, hated mattress. Bree released some of her pent-up frustration by giving her pillow a good beating and settled back on the plumped feathers when a series of knocks sounded on the door.

It wasn't Elizabeth who entered at her invitation; Malcolm stood grinning in the doorway. "May I come in?"

"Of course." Bree craned her neck to peer around him.

"Isn't your mother with you?"

"Sorry, no. You're going to have to make do with me this evening. Mother and Eldon have another engagement. I'm here to keep you company."

Bree sank back against the pillow. She was desperately lonely, but wasn't sure she was up to the torture of having Malcolm near. "There's no need. I'm quite capable of being by myself. I'll talk with your mother about the wedding tomorrow."

He shook his head. "Ah, but you needn't wait. I can describe it to you. It was quite lovely. The bride wore a white gown, of course, in the popular Empire style. Seed pearls lavishly embellished the bodice and sleeves, as well as her tiny pillbox hat."

Bree giggled at his theatrical recitation. He flapped his arms and his expressive eyebrows waggled up and down as he paced the room, turning dramatically as he mimicked the bride sweeping down the aisle. He went on to describe the diverse group of people in attendance, changing his voice and 125

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by Terri Benson

parroting their actions. Bree laughed until her side ached and tears rolled down her face.

"Stop, please. I can't take any more of this." She held up her hands in appeal.

"All right. But Mother's version won't be nearly so much fun. She's much too nice to tell you all the silly parts." He stopped near the bed and gazed down at her. "Aren't you about sick of lying in that bed?"

"I can't begin to tell you how much I wish I could get up."

"Then why don't you?" he asked.

"Where would I go? I haven't any clothes, and Dr. Tumey would have a fit if I got sick again."

"Stay right there. I have a plan." With a conspiratorial wink and broad grin, he slipped out of the room, leaving her with her mouth hanging open.

"And where would I go, pray tell?" she grumbled in annoyance, but her interest was piqued.

A few moments later Malcolm returned, pushing a wicker wheelchair. A blanket lay folded over the seat. "Ta da! Your chariot awaits, my sweet."

The endearment brought a blush to her cheeks, and she quickly looked down at her lap, hoping her unbound hair would hide her face.

"Well, what are you waiting for? You said you wanted out of bed. Get a move on."

His enthusiasm was contagious, and brought a smile to her face. Glad she wore a clean flannel nightgown that covered her adequately from chin to toes and nearly to her fingertips, she rolled out of bed and took a step toward the chair. She 126

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stopped and grasped the iron footboard as a wave of dizziness flooded over her. He reached out and caught her elbow, helping to steady her.

"I know the feeling. I've finally gotten over being dizzy all the time." He waited patiently as she took a moment to get her equilibrium back.

Smiling her thanks, she managed to take the last few steps, her toes curling against the cold floor tiles. He whisked the blanket off the seat, shook it out and laid it over the whole chair. He took her hand and bowed as he settled her on her throne. Once seated, he carefully tucked the blanket around her shoulders and folded it so the only parts of her showing were her head and hands.

"And for my next trick." He pulled white objects out of his coat pocket with a flourish. He bent down, pulled first one bare foot then the other out from under the blanket, and slid on thick cotton socks. "Wouldn't want Dr. Tumey after me for letting you catch a chill." He grinned again and her dizziness returned, but it had very little to do with getting out of bed too fast, and a lot to do with his unexpected thoughtfulness.

He pushed her out of the room and down the hall. Almost immediately, an attractive woman at a long counter called out a greeting. Malcolm responded in a friendly and polite manner and moved on. Bree saw disappointment in the woman's expression. After several similar exchanges, Bree experienced an unfamiliar emotion. Surely she wasn't jealous? "Do you know everyone here?" she finally asked.

He leaned his head down close to her ear. His breath tickled as he laughed. "Not everyone, but I've been cooped 127

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up here as long as you. The difference is they let me move around. In fact, they kept getting after me not to fall asleep. I took to walking the halls to stay awake. I've met most of the people who work in this wing, and have gotten to know the families of other Titanic survivors who were brought here." He straightened up and turned down another hall.

Bree wanted him to lean back down. His essence was clean and manly, a rich blend of musk and spice. Definitely not the antiseptic odor permeating her room. She decided to keep him talking. "There are a lot of women who work here." She glanced over her shoulder and found his eyes on her. "They seem to like you."

She bit her lip as he grinned. "Don't act so surprised. I'm a very likeable fellow. What can I say?"

"Are there a lot of Titanic passengers here?

"More than one hundred to begin with. Almost everyone has left, but there are a few stragglers, like you and me." He bent down again and she caught her breath. "I've heard," he whispered, sending chills down her back, "they're going to run us out of here tomorrow."

She turned quickly in excitement, and her lips met his.

Shocked by the soft warmth, she stared into his amused blue eyes. He made no attempt to move, and she knew she'd waited a few seconds longer than propriety allowed before turning away. A massive wave of heat rolled up her neck, clear to her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut in mortification, expecting Malcolm to say something that would embarrass her even more.

Instead, he said, "We're here."

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They turned into a large cafeteria dotted with tables and chairs. Bree wasn't sure if she was more upset about the inadvertent kiss, or the fact he didn't even seem to notice.

He noted her silence. "Are you all right?" He stopped the chair and stepped in front of her. "You're a little flushed. It's not a fever is it?" He laid his large hand on her forehead, like her mother used to do. "You don't feel hot." The corners of his mouth quirked up. "If you're not sick, what else could it be?"

Bree glared at him. Obviously, he had noticed their kiss and knew exactly what caused her rosy cheeks. Before she could think of a suitable retort, he slipped behind and wheeled her over to a table. Malcolm sat in the nearest chair and drew her attention to a printed menu on the table. "What would you like for dinner? I can't promise you gourmet, but it will probably be better than what you've gotten in those horrid trays they deliver."

Still trying to figure out if he deliberately teased her, or wasn't affected in any way by the unexpected kiss, Bree tried to concentrate on the printed words. "I'd about give my arm for a nice pot roast," she said.

"I don't believe the prices are quite that steep. One post roast coming up, my lady." He bowed again and headed for the counter where he spoke to a plump woman in a tall white hat. She smiled at Bree and nodded. Malcolm returned and sat. He seemed intent on disarming her, keeping up a running monologue on the different passengers and their families he'd met, what their injuries were, where they were from, and other bits of their lives.

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Even after plates heaped with food were set in front of them, he kept talking, stopping only to urge her to eat. And eat she did.

"You really were hungry for a decent meal, weren't you?"

He observed her nearly spotless plate.

Bree bit her lip. What would he think of her? She'd shoveled her food down nearly as fast as her brothers had.

She quickly looked down at her bosom, praying she wasn't as sloppy as them when eating. With relief, she saw only her pristine nightgown.

"I'm glad to see you have an appetite. I hate skinny women. In France, it seems all the models they use for the fashion shows are near death from lack of food. Besides, I'd wager to say you've lost more than a pound or two in the last week."

Again, Bree felt off center, unsure. She gazed into his eyes, the color of the deep Atlantic at midday. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying any attention to the food, I mean, while you were talking, I just..." She groaned. It seemed she couldn't say anything right.

Malcolm reached out and patted her hand.

If he does one more thing to treat me like a child, I will scream! Bree pulled her fingers from under his and clasped her hands in her lap. She attempted to get herself under control by taking a deep breath. "What were your mother and Eldon doing tonight?"

"Louise Vanderbilt invited them to dinner. Mother was going to refuse, but for once, I agreed with Eldon. She needed a night away from here. She's been flitting between 130

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your room and mine since we got here. If Dr. Tumey hadn't made her stop and eat now and then, she'd probably be a patient as well." Malcolm sat back in his chair, a frown creasing his forehead above the bridge of his nose.

"Dr. Tumey seems very competent."

"He's actually quite well known. We were lucky to be brought here, especially when he was on duty. I think," he leaned in toward her, one expressive eyebrow raised, "he might be sweet on Mother."

Bree smiled. "I thought so too. Of course, she did absolutely nothing to encourage him," she added, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

"Hmm. I wish she would. At least he might acknowledge her devotion, unlike Eldon. Although he's been a bit more attentive since the sinking. The bas—Urm, my stepfather, apologized profusely to Mother. He claimed he drank too much, lost a large sum of money at cards, and had a grave lapse of judgment. And he gave her a magnificent set of jewelry to replace some of what she lost. As if that would make up for what he did," Malcolm gritted out. Sadness crept over his face. "I don't think she believed it, but after he left she told me in no uncertain terms never to bring it up again."

He brightened a little as he added, "But there's something a bit different about her. She doesn't look to him every time she makes a decision now. Maybe it's a start."

"I hope so. She's such a wonderful woman. She doesn't deserve to be treated that way." Bree said.

He gave her a grateful smile and nodded. "Now you've had dinner, how about a trip around the block?"

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"I'm not sure. I mean, I can't go outside in my nightclothes."

"Maybe not, but we can at least take a tour around the inside of the building. There are miles of hallway here." He pushed her out of the dining room and they spent a couple peaceful hours while he gave her a guided tour of the different floors. They found an unattended elevator and rode it up and down after Malcolm took to closing his eyes and pushing a button, taking her out on whatever floor they ended up on. That came to a halt when they mistakenly stepped out onto the surgical floor and were chased off by an irate nurse.

Bree felt exhausted by the time he wheeled her back to her room. She climbed out of the chair and slipped under the bedclothes.

He must have noticed her tired eyes because he said, "I shouldn't have kept you out so late, Miss Barry. It won't be Dr. Tumey I have to worry about if Mother finds out I caused you to relapse."

She smiled. "It was lovely, Mr. Du ... um ... Malcolm. I enjoyed getting out. I can't believe how big this place is, and you know so much about it. You don't seem sick. I would have expected they'd let you go sooner than this."

He smiled. "I'm glad you've finally decided to call me by my given name. And since we're going to be spending so much time in each other's company in the coming weeks, will you finally consider me a friend?" He watched her intently, and she could have sworn he held his breath.

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She smiled sheepishly. "I suppose. And as I said before, my friends call me Bree."

He let out his breath in a whoosh. "Excellent! You need to get some sleep now. It's late and you're probably tuckered out. I'm going to park your chariot here in the corner. If they don't let us leave tomorrow, I'll come in and steal you away."

He smiled charmingly and went out, closing the door gently behind him.

Bree stared at the door. I'm afraid he's already stolen my heart, and doesn't even know it.

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An Unsinkable Love

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