Hearts That Survive Part 9

He shook his head. "We walk as if on land." His voice held awe. "This is truly a wonder of the world." He disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.

Yes, he'd had an amorous ember in his eyes.

But it was about the ship.

Not her.

Caroline smoothed her hand across the edge of the satin counterpane and slipped between the sheets that had never wrapped anyone else in their comfort and warmth. She concentrated on the steady hum of the engines, which lulled her into thoughts of a wedding and how she might be of service to a couple so much in love.

17.

Wedding day, Sunday morning, April 14, 1912 Lydia stretched and moaned deliciously upon awakening. This was her wedding day. Looking at the canopy, she thought this a breakfast-in-bed kind of day. However, she decided to feast in her dressing gown near the fireplace. Her lips kept spreading into a smile with the thought that before this day was over she'd be a married woman.

When Marcella brought breakfast, she also brought a note from John.

Let's attend church this morning and thank the Lord for his goodness.

Lydia was tempted to say she was too busy for church. She was supposed to look at Harriett's wedding gowns. But one of the things she respected about John was his faith. And she did want to see him. Be near him.

She wrote back, Yes, we'll do that.

She and John met outside their rooms. He took her hands in his. "I've missed you."

"Me too." She welcomed the touch of his lips on hers.

The service was held in the dining room. She hardly heard Captain Smith's sermon, nor could she concentrate on the meaning of "O G.o.d, Our Help in Ages Past," although she joined in singing. She even peeked at her husband-to-be during the closing prayer.

As soon as the service ended, Caroline came to them, followed by Lady Lavinia and Phoebe.

Caroline took her arm. "I must steal her away. Important business not for your eyes."

John nodded and walked over to where S. J. stood holding a sleepy little boy, who rested his head on S. J.'s shoulder.

"The wedding party members are probably waiting," Lavinia said.

Indeed they were. Molly and Madeleine were already ooohing and aaahing over the models parading through Harriett's room and the adjoining one, likely belonging to the top model and the seamstress.

They gathered at one end of the room. This was their own private showing of more than wedding gowns. The beautiful models entered and exited the bathrooms and glided through the rooms as if in a fashion parade.

Harriett explained that she was breaking the tradition of the rigid Edwardian styles. "No corsets. These are for comfort and casual elegance."

They all gasped when a model appeared wearing silk trousers. Spontaneous applause sounded along with exclamations of delight.

"I could not begin a showing with wedding gowns," Harriett said. "Now for the finale."

The model appeared, dressed in a gown grander than one could imagine.

"I've never seen anything like that one," Lady Lavinia said. "Is that crochet?"

"Every inch." Harriett swelled with well-deserved pride.

They were all amazed. Long sleeves, puffed above the elbows, frills, high neck, tight bodice, layers of form-fitting crochet bordered by more crochet in a different direction, and flared below the knees to the feet.

"That is so dramatic." Lydia had attended fashion showings in more than one country, her favorite being Paris. "I've never seen anything like it."

"There is nothing like it." Harriett's expression held mild censure. "These are originals. Is that the one you want?"

"I adore it. It's fit for a queen. But John and I aren't quite so flamboyant."

"Difficult to please, are you? Fine. Less flamboyance, Celeste!"

The bathroom door opened at the far end of the stateroom. That gown was worthy of any princess.

As the graceful model floated toward them, Harriett explained, "White silk." She circled her finger, and the model slowly turned. "Formfitting with simple lines. Wide back sash that gathers at the center with a bow."

"This," Harriett said, "may be worn as a wedding gown, formal dress, or dinner dress. It is tea length in front and comes just to the top of the ankles, which is of course shameless."

They all laughed. This garment was modest compared with her popular line of lingerie that raised many eyebrows.

"And," Harriett pointed out, "it's a couple of inches longer in back. The front bodice has a hand-decorated section of lawn material. The three layers of material hang in tiers to the floor. For a wedding there will be the addition of a veil."

Lydia could not imagine a gown more beautiful. "It's perfect."

"Try it on for fit," Harriett encouraged. Afterward, she examined it for any needed alteration. "Only a slight tuck in the waist is needed," she said with a glance at the seamstress.

They all agreed this was the one.

"Oh, I'm delighted," Harriett said. "And you're right, Lydia. You're more genteel than flamboyant. Besides, I could not part with the crocheted one. That's my showstopper." She grinned. "But I couldn't resist getting your reactions."

Judging from the awe on the women's faces, there would be purchases made here before these new fashions ever arrived in New York.

"And this is a wedding present," Harriett said, handing Lydia something wrapped in soft tissue.

Lydia moved the panels of the tissue and held up the garment.

"Oh, naughty," chided Caroline playfully.

Lady Lavinia said, "Don't look, Phoebe," and the young girl put her hands on her face, then peeked through her fingers.

Others reacted with mock consternation but followed with demands of when and where they might purchase her latest fashions.

"Well, I could be persuaded to have a showing for the pa.s.sengers," she said. "Why wait for New York?"

"Lovely idea," Madeleine said, and they all agreed.

"You invite the men and you'll make a mint selling things like that." She pointed to the lingerie. "But let's get this wedding done first."

The wedding party, as Lydia had begun to think of them, ate lunch on Lydia's deck. They had to ensure everything would be as perfect as that wedding dress. Trunks would have to be brought up for the entire first cla.s.s because as Molly said in a joking way that held truth, "The ladies can't wear their dinner attire to a wedding like this."

Lady Lavinia reminded them, "Every lady on the ship will have to get her hair done before dinner."

That afternoon Lydia's hair would not behave. She'd never seen Marcella so nervous. She burst into tears and could not tame Lydia's curls.

There was only one thing to do. "Get Caroline."

Caroline and Bess came in. Among the three of them, they accomplished a miracle. "Your curls shouldn't be tamed," Caroline said. "Let them fall across your forehead and these longer ones along your face."

She did like the effect, and Marcella stopped crying.

They would put the jeweled combs in later, making sure to leave room for fastening the veil.

Caroline felt she had plenty of time. Her hair was wavy. Bess never had any trouble sweeping it back into a roll above her ears or piled high on her head.

"The usual style, Bess. I'll just wear more jewels for the wedding."

"Yes, ma'am. Everything you will need is right in the top of your jewelry box. Rubies and diamonds for the dress. Emeralds for your eyes."

"My eyes are brownish."

"With a touch of green when you're happy."

Caroline glanced at her quickly through the mirror, but Bess kept looking at her hair, wearing her characteristic impa.s.sive expression. She recalled that in her young years she'd been told she had green eyes. They'd changed to hazel. She never really gave them much thought.

At the moment, she gave Bess some thought. Bess was a twenty-nine-year-old spinster. She'd been a governess in early days and that's the reason Caroline chose her among the household staff after her marriage to William. She wanted someone who would become familiar with her and the household. And Caroline would decide if she thought Bess would be good with children.

She did think so. But the children never came.

And Bess became more like a mother to Caroline. Gently patting the roll, Bess said, "There." She looked into the mirror. "You're a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Chadwick."

"Thank you." Caroline thought she looked like a proper, matronly woman.

She'd never asked if Bess had wanted to marry and have children. Maybe someday they could simply talk like one woman to another. But for now, there wasn't time.

That's what Lydia said when Caroline went to her room and told her it was time for dinner.

"I don't have time for dinner," Lydia wailed even as they headed for the dining saloon.

"But you must make an appearance," Caroline said needlessly. "The guests consider this your pre-wedding dinner."

"Oh, I'm glad I have you to think for me," Lydia said. "This is the most splendid wedding any girl could have."

"You'll be a prime target for the photographers the moment you step out onto the deck, and next week you'll be famous throughout the world."

Lydia raised her hand to her brow. "Was it only yesterday all I wanted was to marry John?"

Caroline shrugged. "This is the price you pay for being rich, beautiful, and on the most magnificent ship in the world."

Lydia grimaced. "Oh, the burdens we bear."

"Yes," Caroline agreed playfully. "Now we enter through those doors for your last dinner as a single woman."

At the table for the wedding party only, Caroline looked over the menu.

R.M.S. t.i.tANIC.

APRIL 14, 1912.

First Course HORS D'OEUVRE VARIES.

OYSTERS.

Second Course CONSOMMe OLGA.

CREAM OF BARLEY.

Third Course POACHED SALMON with MOUSSELINE SAUCE CUc.u.mBERS.

Fourth Course FILET MIGNONS LILI.

SAUTe OF CHICKEN LYONNAISE.

VEGETABLE MARROW FARCIS.

Fifth Course LAMB, MINT SAUCE.

ROAST DUCKLING, APPLE SAUCE.

SIRLOIN OF BEEF, CHATEAU POTATOES.

GREEN PEAS.

CREAMED CARROTS.

BOILED RICE.

PARMENTIER & BOILED NEW POTATOES.

Sixth Course PUNCH ROMAINE.

Seventh Course ROAST SQUAB & CRESS.