An Unsinkable Love

chapter 19


Malcolm meandered through the halls late into the night.

He couldn't get those emerald eyes out of his head. The memory of her soft lips brushing his caused an uncomfortable pressure in his loins. Knowing she was there, only a thin layer of flannel separating them as they sat at the table, had been torture. He hoped her disconcerted attitude stemmed from the same source as his own—being so close to her, talking to her about anything that popped into his head, hearing her laugh at his silly attempts at amusement. It had been a wonderful evening. For him at least.

She was the reason he was still here at the hospital. Dr.

Tumey suggested he was fit enough to leave a few days ago, so he'd started feigning dizzy spells. He wanted to be near Bree, to make sure she got the care she needed. It was agony knowing he couldn't do anything to help her himself.

When his mother told him she had convinced Bree to go home with them, he only just refrained from giving her a crushing hug. If her ribs were healed, he would have anyway.

It was the perfect solution. It would buy him time to convince Bree he wasn't the rich ne'er-do-well she obviously thought him to be. No way would he watch her walk out of his life now. Eldon made a fuss, demanding to know why his wife would want to drag along a half-downed seamstress. Malcolm smiled at the vision of his mother drawing herself up to her full height and lecturing her overbearing husband.

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"Not only do I owe her my life, but I consider her a very dear friend. She could have easily left me sleeping in my room. She might have taken every piece of jewelry I owned, and anything else she wanted. But she didn't. She took care of me. And I'll not do anything less for her. She has no family. No one to care for, or about, her. I intend to do both."

She'd glared at Eldon with a fire Malcolm hadn't seen in her eyes for years. He hoped it was a sign she wasn't going to let her husband dominate her life anymore. Time would tell.

He finally made his way back to his room in the wee hours of the morning. Still plenty of time to dream about creamy white skin and imagine long, coppery curls twisting around his body and drawing him close.



* * * *

His mother breezed in with his breakfast the next morning.

"Dr. Tumey says you are well enough to leave."

"What about Miss Barry?" He tried to appear unconcerned.

Elizabeth eyed him slyly. "What about Miss Barry, dear?"

When she saw the exasperated look he gave her, she relented, grinning. "Bree too. I asked Eldon to make arrangements for our private rail car to be brought up. I think we'd be much more comfortable than riding in a motorcar all that way. Now you sit still and eat your breakfast while I go tell Bree."

As his mother left the room, Malcolm smiled. He would have at least a few days where Bree couldn't get away from him. Perhaps enough time to convince her she should spend the rest of her life with him. When he'd left for Europe with 135

An Unsinkable Love

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his mother and Eldon, he thought all he wanted was to take over the family business and make it what his father had wanted, not what Eldon changed it into. But now, the only thing on his mind was a beautiful, Titian-haired young woman named Bridget Barry.



* * * *

Bree was thrilled to hear she would no longer be confined to bed in the tiny room. She wasn't sure how often Malcolm would take time to visit an invalid, and now at least he wouldn't have to see her surrounded by the sights and smells of a hospital. Soon they'd be on their way to the fresh air of the country. She was truly about to begin her adventure in America.

As Dr. Tumey left her room after giving her a clean bill of health, and a warning to take it easy for a few more weeks, Elizabeth entered. She ignored his flustered smile, and the despairing grimace that followed, as she carried several boxes over to the bed. A grinning Malcolm hustled along behind, more packages heaped in his arms. Bree stood by the window in a rumpled flannel gown and robe and turned as Elizabeth laughingly tumbled the boxes onto her bed, her son following suit.

"What's all this?" Bree asked as she ambled over.

"Open them and see, my dear." Elizabeth stepped behind her and hugged Bree's shoulders, her chin resting next to her ear. "You can't very well leave here in a nightdress, now can you? We picked up a few things for you until we get home.

Then we can get you a proper wardrobe."

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Bree bent her head, gazing at her stocking-clad feet.

"Elizabeth, you've been so kind. I promise I'll pay back every cent."

"I beg your pardon!"

Bree's head snapped up at the tone of outrage in Elizabeth's voice. She turned, wide eyed and beheld her friend's angry face.

"If you think I do this expecting to be repaid, you are sadly mistaken, young lady. I enjoyed every minute of shopping for you." Her gray eyes softened. "I never had the chance to spoil a daughter. Shopping for you was such fun." She smiled at Bree and held her arms out. "Please let me do this. No strings attached. Please."

Bree didn't hesitate, leaning into Elizabeth's embrace.

Elizabeth whispered into her ear, "Buying clothes for you is eminently more enjoyable than buying them for Malcolm.

Black and gray suits are so boring."

Bree stepped back, laughing. "I thank you very much for your generosity." Then she picked up a box. "Now, what should I wear?"



* * * *

Malcolm wandered over to the window and leaned on the frame. He watched, enjoying the lighthearted banter between the two so-different women. Elizabeth helped Bree select an outfit, then shooed him from the room.

He paced the hallways, never out of sight of the door, and was only a step away when it opened and Bree came out. She looked like the well-bred woman he'd first met on the ship, 137

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clothed in a dusky green suit that set her hair off to perfection. It fit well, but not quite as well as the gray outfit had. Her hair was pulled back from her face with green jade combs and her tiny feet were shod in fashionable pointy-toed lace-up boots.

"Excuse me, miss, have you seen a half-drowned girl? I left her in this room, but now she's gone."

Bree chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment, whether you meant it or not."

He bowed and followed her back into the room. Elizabeth sorted packages into an orderly stack. She linked elbows with Bree and gave him an inquiring stare.

"Well, since I've been relegated to pack horse, I suggest we be on our way." He enjoyed bringing up the rear of the procession. It gave him the opportunity to watch Bree's gently swaying hips. The swishing fabric had a mesmerizing effect and he nearly tripped over the top step as they exited the building. A big seven-passenger Oldsmobile touring car waited outside. With only the three of them and minimal luggage, the car felt immense. The driver, clad in a black suit with cap pulled low over his brow, stowed their bags in the boot and helped Elizabeth into the middle seat. Malcolm opened the other door for Bree, and watched as she settled into the thickly tufted leather bench beside his mother. He climbed into the front seat next to the chauffer. Before the driver merged into traffic, Malcolm asked him to take a short detour to the pier.

As they pulled up along the waterfront, redolent with the scents of day-old fish and diesel oil, he pointed. "The 138

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Carpathia. If not for her, none of us would be here." The three of them stared up at the cargo ship, which sported four huge derricks and a single large stack, for several moments, each deep in their own thoughts.

Bree looked at Elizabeth. Her face was drawn and pale.

They clasped hands and shared a moment of silence.

The driver cleared his throat loudly. "If we don't get a move on you'll miss your train, folks."

Malcolm nodded and they turned away from the pier.

Traffic was heavy and it took nearly a half hour to get back to Greenwich Village and Penn Station. It was time to go home.



* * * *

Eldon sat in a corner trying to ignore the unwashed masses bustling around the huge terminal. He hated traveling by train. There were too many working class rubes who didn't have the sense to know their place. It was one more reason he simmered with anger at Elizabeth. He'd been forced to delay his return to the mills so she could stay and nurse Malcolm and the seamstress back to health, even though they were in a perfectly good hospital. And she'd started making noises about Malcolm taking over the company again. If she managed to get in touch with the board of directors, she would soon find out he'd been telling them Malcolm was too busy sowing wild oats to be interested in running the company. It hadn't been difficult to convince them the handsome young man's interest centered on the women under the clothing, not the clothing itself.

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He took out his new gold pocket watch, engraved with the date of the Titanic's sinking—a gift from the mayor's office—

and checked the time. "Where are they, damn it? They should have been here by now." Eldon stood and scanned the room toward the tall gothic arches of the main entry. He had agreed to meet them near the ticket booth at two o'clock, and it was quarter past already. As he searched the throng he saw Malcolm, half a head taller than most of the crowd, shepherding his mother and the little seamstress through the crush. A porter pushed a cart with their luggage close behind.

He only took a dozen steps before he heard a voice that stopped him dead in his tracks.

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An Unsinkable Love

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