An Unsinkable Love

chapter 20


Bree gawked at the beautiful ceiling soaring high above her head. Never had she seen anything like the massive building. Her neck already hurt from staring out the window at the skyscrapers as they drove through the city, and she turned in a circle trying to take everything in. Pink granite gleamed on the walls and columns.

Malcolm grabbed her elbow and pulled her out of the way as a loaded luggage cart lumbered past. "You'd better pay attention. There are a lot more people here than back home, I'll warrant."

"It's so beautiful, Malcolm. Such a magnificent building. Do you know how tall it is?" she asked in awe.

"The dome is one hundred fifty feet high. The columns alone are sixty feet. It's only two years old." Before he told her any more, shouts rang out from a far corner.

Bree couldn't see over the heads of the hundreds of people milling about, but she heard Malcolm swear under his breath.

Elizabeth heard as well. "Malcolm! Whatever set you off?"

"Come along, Mother, Miss Barry. I believe Eldon is over this way." He took each of them by an elbow and made his way to where the shouting continued.



* * * *

"You can't fool me, Mister High-and-Mighty. I saw what you did. You killed old Latimer, shot him clean through. An'

here you are, lettin' everyone call you a hero. Hero, my ass.

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You're a murderer, you are, and a yellow-bellied coward to boot!"

Bree saw Eldon, staring down at a scrawny, roughly dressed man with ginger hair and no hat, who shook his finger under the taller man's nose. Eldon's furious expression changed subtly, almost like fear, as he realized the three of them were observing the argument.

Eldon drew himself up to his full height of well over six feet, and said loudly, "You're drunk. I don't know who you are, or why you're making such absurd accusations. I suggest you leave immediately and seek medical help. You're obviously ill. Otherwise, I will summon the police."

"Eldon, what's this about?" Elizabeth stepped near.

"It's nothing, my dear. Just an inebriated or mentally ill person who is quite delusional." He turned away, but the man grabbed his arm.

"You can lie to them, me bucko, but I knows better. I'm leavin', so I am. But I'm headed straight to the pier. And I'm gonna tell them what you did. If I can find Timmy, he'll tell

'em you paid him to get on the lifeboat. You won't be so high an' mighty when the coppers come for you."

Eldon whirled and grabbed the man by the ragged lapels of his coat. "Don't threaten me, you little weasel! If you think the police would believe your wild story, you truly are crazy.

I'm a respected man, very well connected. I have nothing to fear from you. Now get out of my sight before the coppers come looking for you." He shoved the man so hard he fell on his backside and slid into the feet of some bystanders.

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The redhead struggled to his knees as he snarled. "You'll be sorry, you will. Fred Dunby don't let no man push him around. Especially a liar and a killer. Just you wait." He gathered himself up and jerked his coat back down where it belonged. "You'll see," he muttered as he turned on his heel and stalked into the crowd.

The four of them stood awkwardly as the bystanders wandered off. Bree was thankful their train was announced and they hurried off to their boarding track. No one mentioned the stranger's accusations, but Bree wondered if there was anything to them.



* * * *

She forgot all about the redheaded man as she laid eyes on the ornately decorated private railcar connected to the end of the train. They entered from the observation platform on the rear and stepped straight into a hallway. Eldon and Elizabeth preceded them, turning into the first doorway and closing the carved wooden door. Bree quickly took Malcolm up on his offer to show her around the car as the sound of raised voices came from behind the closed portal. He opened the door to the second stateroom, his, then the third, assigned to her.

"How clever. A bed that folds down off the wall. I'm sure it'll be quite cozy and comfortable with the chair and picture window." Bree brushed past him and turned around in the middle of the room, admiring the watered silk wallpaper and plush Aubusson carpet.

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Malcolm laughed. "It feels comfortable now, but with the bed down there's hardly room to turn around." He motioned to a narrow door on the wall. "The powder room is through there. There is a larger bathing chamber next door, which we all share."

He led her into the corridor and farther down the car. They passed a neat and compact galley where a white-haired black man put packages into cupboards.

"Hello, Peter. Good to see you again," Malcolm said as the man turned from his duties.

The dark face split into a wide grin, showing large white teeth. "Good day to you, Mr. Malcolm. Things haven't been the same with you gone. I got your favorites in here." Peter nodded toward the cupboard.

Malcolm chuckled and said, "I can't wait. This is Miss Barry. She's traveling up to The Dell with us."

"Afternoon, miss. You need anything, you let me know."

Bree smiled. "Thank you. I can't imagine what could be missing from this magnificent train. I've never seen anything like it." Peter smiled proprietarily and went back to work.

Malcolm took her elbow and guided her into the lounge.

The other rooms were richly appointed with heavy carved wood, patterned tin ceiling and thick carpets, but the lounge was far grander. A marble-mantled fireplace abutted the wall adjacent to the galley. One front corner of the car sported a baby grand piano, and elegant chandeliers hung from the coffered ceiling. Comfortable-looking sofas and chairs were scattered around the room in casual groupings while Oriental rugs covered the polished wood floor. In the corner near the 144

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galley sat an inlaid dining table and six chairs. Large picture windows filled almost all the wall space.

Bree gazed out one of the velvet-flanked windows and watched the crowds milling about on the platform. Before she turned away, she noticed the russet-haired man staring directly at her. She sucked in her breath, her hand grasping the cross she always wore.

"What is it?" Malcolm asked, seeing her expression.

"That man, the one your stepfather argued with. He's out there. He was staring right at me."

He strode to the window. "Where?"

She stepped up beside him. "There, by the column." She searched in vain for the bright thatch of hair. "He's not there now. I know I saw him, truly I did."

Malcolm frowned. "I'm sure you did. He probably followed us. Whatever is going on between him and Eldon doesn't appear settled yet."

A knock on the front door caused Bree to jerk in surprise.

The portal opened and the conductor stuck his head in.

"Leavin' in a moment, folks. Everyone aboard?"

"Yes, thanks. We're all set."

The man tipped his hat and retreated. A short time later, they heard a clank and felt a hard tug, followed by squealing wheels and the sensation of slow, jarring movements.

Bree staggered and fell into Malcolm's chest. He caught her, holding her tightly to his rock-hard body for a moment.

His hands slid from her shoulders down to her wrists before he slowly stepped back, keeping a grip on her hands. She bit her lip and looked away, shocked at how her heart beat faster 145

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as he held her. And wishing for another jerk to send her back into his arms.

"Bree."

She gazed up at him, the serious tone a far cry from the casual banter he usually used. His deep blue eyes glittered with emotion as they bored into hers. There was an intensity in his whole being that excited and frightened her at the same time. He took a step forward, and she tipped her head up to see his face. His hands returned to her arms, sliding up and down gently, then snaked around her back. She held her breath. His head bent down and she caught a whiff of his spicy cologne. As his warm lips touched hers, she melted against him, and his arms tightened. She didn't know how long the embrace went on, but a sudden loud cough brought them back to the real world. Malcolm's arms dropped, and they whirled around to see a smirking Eldon leaning casually on a dining chair.

"Well, well. This is a surprise. The innocent little seamstress and the rich playboy. Could there be a more clichéd scenario? Be careful, my dear. Our Malcolm has quite a reputation with the ladies. Elizabeth might not appreciate the two of you carrying on right under her nose, either."

Eldon's sneering tone brought a burning flush to Bree's face.

"Shut up, Eldon," Malcolm snapped.

Bree stared at him, surprised at his furious tone.

Eldon took a stride toward them, his fists bunched, but before he crossed the swaying room, Elizabeth stepped out of the corridor. "What's the matter? Malcolm, what's going on?"

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"Nothing, Mother. Eldon seems to think I'm trying to seduce your seamstress. I was about to explain what I feel for Bree is none of his business, and I've never considered her the menial servant he does. Now, if you will excuse us, I'll escort Bree to her stateroom so she can freshen up."

He took Bree's numb arm and headed toward the rear of the car, brushing hard against Eldon, who was knocked to the side when he refused to give way. Bree dropped her eyes, mortified, as they passed Elizabeth.

Malcolm paused at the doorway to her room. She would have left him there, but he gently pushed her inside, followed, and shut the door. She gasped. Surely he didn't think he could accost her—and that she would allow it—after being so embarrassed?

She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but he pressed his index finger to her lips, halting her tirade.

"Bree, wait. I know what you think. It's not true. Eldon said what he did to get this exact reaction. He wants to upset you, anger me, humiliate us both. Don't let him do it. I'm not sorry, or ashamed, by what happened between us. As a matter of fact, I've been praying for the opportunity for days." She started to protest and he shook his head.

"Hear me out. I know you think me a cad. A rich playboy like Eldon said. But it's not true, at least not since the day I first met you. When you were ill and I thought I would lose you, I wished I'd gone to the bottom of the sea on that damn ship. And when you got better, I couldn't wait to tell you how I felt. I didn't intend it to be in quite this manner, but I don't care. I've fallen in love with you, Bree. You have more life in 147

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your little finger than any ten women I've ever known in my life. Don't let him run you off. Because I'll have to keep coming after you. Please."

Bree was speechless. He said he loves me. Gu sealladh orm! She searched his eyes, and saw no sign of jest, just an incredibly intense, hopeful stare. She reached up and laid her hand against his cheek. His eyes closed as he turned and nuzzled her palm. She was overwhelmed with emotion and felt tears well. Malcolm's sapphire eyes opened and, in a quick movement, he pulled her close. His mouth descended.

Her lashes lowered as she reveled in the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands sliding up and down her back, the pressure of his firm chest against her tender breasts. It was heaven.

When he finally raised his head she clung to him, not at all sure her knees would hold her up. He didn't seem to mind.

Blue eyes stared deeply into hers. "Bree, marry me."

Her legs did give out and only his strong grip kept her from falling. He bent and slipped an arm under her knees, picking her up and carrying her to the overstuffed chair in the corner. He sank into it with her in his lap, her cheek against his shoulder, palm resting over his heart. She felt it beating very fast, and knew hers did the same. Bree tipped her head back and looked up. He stared down at her, his expression somber.

"Marry you? We hardly know each other, Malcolm, a ghaoil."

"What does that mean? It's beautiful, like you."

She hesitated. Did she mean it? Could she possibly love a man she'd only known a few weeks? Yes. The answer came to 148

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her so quickly and so clearly there was no room for doubt. "It means 'my love'. And yes. If you truly want to marry me, yes."

Malcolm threw his head back and howled like a wolf, then leaned down and kissed her very thoroughly. Bree shivered as his tongue slid along her lips, probing, then slipped inside to play. It was such a strange sensation, but she tentatively reciprocated.

At her response, his arms tightened and Malcolm twisted in the seat a fraction so her hip rested fully in his lap. She felt the heat of him through her clothing. Bree's eyes opened wide as she became aware of the hard length pressing against her.

Malcolm sensed her growing consternation and cupped her face gently with his hand. "I won't hurt you. I can't help wanting you, but I'll never push you." He bent down and kissed her again. His touch was so tender her fears instantly melted away. Light as a feather, his hand slid up her arm to rest at her neck, his thumb brushing the soft niche under her ear. Malcolm's other hand slipped around her waist. As his kiss deepened, a delicious warmth spread from her center.

Her arm was pinned between them, his heartbeat reverberating through her. She looped her free arm around his neck, fingers twining in the curls at his collar. Through her gown, the heat from Malcolm's hand seemed to brand her.

His thumb stroked back and forth across her ribs a mere inch from her breast. She sighed, or was it a moan of pleasure?

Bree wasn't sure.

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His wayward hand slipped up to her breast, his thumb grazing her nipple, which blossomed until it puckered her gown. Mouth slanted, his lips pressed down with a feverish urgency as his hand slipped into the bodice and slowly nudged the fabric off her shoulder.

Bree's eyelids fluttered at the sudden spasm of passion that threatened to burst her into pieces. Malcolm's lips pressed warm kisses from the corner of her mouth, down her neck, lingering on her collarbone before slipping lower. As his tongue licked at her nipple, Bree gasped in shock. The heat of his mouth closing over the swollen bud drove her mad. She felt a sudden wetness between her thighs. All these sensations were so new, so powerful. She placed a shaking hand against his chest and pushed.

"Please, you must stop. I ... I ... don't know what..." Her body cried out for more, but her mind urged caution against the multitude of strange, exciting sensations.

Malcolm allowed her to push him away with only a small groan. He bent and kissed her on the forehead then sighed deeply and leaned back to look at her, his grin lopsided.

"You're right about that. I must stop or prove Eldon only too right. But it's just until we're wed, my love. Then, I intend to start again. And again. And again."

They turned at a soft knock from the door. This time there was no start of guilt. No embarrassment.

Elizabeth called, "Bree, dear? Peter says he'll have hors d'

oeuvres ready shortly. Will you join us, please?"

Bree slipped off Malcolm's lap and quickly adjusted her gown, still feeling the imprint of Malcolm's lip on the sensitive 150

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nub. As she would have stepped away from him, he caught her hand and kept her close. He stood and opened the door.

"Come in, Mother. We'd like to speak with you a moment.

Privately."

If Elizabeth was surprised to find her son in the seamstress' room she hid it well, grasping Bree's hands and apologizing, "My dear, I'm so sorry. Eldon had no right to say what he did. We had quite a row about it just now."

Malcolm gently cut her off. "Mother, don't worry. We don't care what Eldon has to say. What matters is I've asked Bree to marry me, and she's accepted. I hope you approve, but even if you don't, I know you'll be too gracious to act as he did."

Elizabeth's gray eyes widened and her gaze flicked back and forth between them. Bree held her breath.

The older woman's chin raised and her face took on a thoughtful expression. Then she gave a quick nod as a broad smile spread over her face. Elizabeth stepped forward, enfolded Bree in her arms and planted a light kiss to her temple. "I told you I always wished for a daughter, dear. Now I'll have one." She released Bree and pulled Malcolm's head down to kiss his cheek. "Congratulations, my boy. I've had moments I worried about you, but not now. I think you'll be fine. Oh, this is wonderful. A wedding. I've never planned a wedding! Percy's mother made all the arrangements when we married, and Eldon insisted on a small service at the chapel near The Dell. I'm so excited. Come on, you two. We're going to open a split of Champagne—or two—and toast the occasion. And I assure you, Eldon will behave himself." From 151

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the look in her future mother-in-law's eye, Bree thought he'd better, if he knew what was good for him.

The three of them made their way back to the lounge and Elizabeth announced to Eldon he would soon be a stepfather-in-law. He choked on his whiskey and soda, but wisely nodded and said, "I suppose congratulations are in order. You chose a lovely young lady for your bride, Malcolm. I'm sure the two of you will be very happy."

Bree noted Eldon's white-knuckled grip around his glass and the way his smile didn't reach his eyes, and knew the man held back furious anger. She took a step closer to Malcolm, comforted when he immediately slipped his arm around her and pulled her securely against his shoulder.

Eldon sat in the background drinking the rest of the night while they made wedding plans. When Bree yawned widely and made embarrassed apologies, Elizabeth shooed the younger pair off to bed. Eldon declined to follow, saying he wasn't tired.

Elizabeth walked ahead of them, stopping at Bree's door.

She turned and hugged her future daughter-in-law, kissed her on the forehead and said, "I'm so happy, my dear. Truly."

"And perhaps a bit surprised?" Malcolm teased.

"Well, yes, maybe a little. But only for a moment. Now, it's been a busy day and I don't want either of you falling ill again." She gave him a knowing smile and went to her room.

"What she means is she expects us in our respective rooms in the very near future." Their gazes met and he bent down for a long, tender kiss. Malcolm straightened and groaned. "I hope you two get this wedding put together soon, 152

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because walking away from you is getting harder by the moment."

Bree giggled, stood on her tiptoes and brought his face back down for another quick kiss. "Good night, Malcolm," she whispered and slipped into her room.

She closed the door and leaned back, eyes closed, and murmured, " Caidil gu math, caomh." She danced across the room, twirling, and flung herself into the chair. As she stared at the elaborate tin ceiling, she marveled at the changes in her life. A few weeks ago, she was essentially a slave to her family and the Rothberrys. After nearly dying on the Titanic, she was betrothed to an incredibly handsome, loving man, and had gained a dear new friend in Elizabeth. She reached up, touched the cross and closed her eyes. "Thank you." Bree felt as if she were floating on a cloud as she quickly prepared for bed and climbed into the fold-down berth, which Peter had made up for her while they celebrated. The mattress was a bit hard, but the soft pillow and monogrammed sheets were more comfortable than any bedding she'd ever experienced.

The cashmere blanket felt light as a feather. She turned down the gaslight and burrowed in, soothed by the repetitive clickety-clack of the train's wheels. An exhausted sleep overcame her almost immediately.



* * * *

Eldon poured another stiff drink and plopped down on the sofa, not caring if his dirty boots left a smear across the fine fabric. This had been a trying day. First, in a city of more than a million people, he managed to run into one of the dozen 153

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men who knew how he really got off the damn ship. Of course the police would never believe the man, not over the word of a DuMont. But what if they talked to more of the crewmen from the lifeboat? And there was always the possibility someone had seen him with the steward, Timmy, and Peterson. Some bleeding heart would probably make a big deal about the death of a drunken sot and a servant, and he'd find himself having to defend his actions. Any fool could see it was the only way he could have gotten off the ship, and of the three, he was certainly the most valuable.

He swirled the amber liquid in the heavy cut glass tumbler.

Good thing he was on his way out of the city. The chances of running into any of the crewmen in Linton were negligible.

The police up there knew which side their bread was buttered on as well. They wouldn't risk upsetting Elizabeth with wild accusations.

He relaxed. There wasn't anything to worry about, not really. He'd stick close to home for a while, make sure no problems came up then get back to business. He was disappointed with the seamstress, though. She'd had potential, until she managed to snag Malcolm. It would have been interesting to see how long it took for her to switch her loyalties from Elizabeth to him. Ah, well, there were other diversions available. One woman was the same as the other, especially in the dark.

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