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Authors: Janice Thompson

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Jacquie paced the cabin as she fussed with her gloves. With her nerves in such a frazzled state, she couldn’t seem to get them on properly. Iris stepped up beside her and offered assistance. Afterward, Jacquie looked up at her and sighed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Jacquie.” Iris’s eyes brimmed with tears, and she looked away.

Jacquie patted her arm. “I know this situation displeases you, Iris. I hear it in the words you’re not speaking and see it every time I look into your eyes. You’re unhappy with my decision.”

“I am grateful for the passage to New York and excited about my prospects there.” Iris turned back and opened her mouth as if to say more but spoke nothing. Instead, tears dribbled over her lower lashes.

“And I am happy to provide the opportunity, but I’m going to miss you terribly.” Jacquie reached to offer her a warm embrace. “We’ve been more like sisters, have we not?”

“We have.” Iris swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Jacquie squared her shoulders and tried to appear confident as she offered her farewell speech. “I’ve always valued your advice, Iris. So I do hope you will trust me in this. I know what I’m doing.”

The lady’s maid did not appear to be convinced. Instead, she turned to help Jacquie with her reticule, not saying a word.

“You are making the ultimate sacrifice for me,” Jacquie added, her words laced with genuine compassion. “And for that I’m extremely grateful.” She reached inside her reticule and withdrew the letter for her grandmother.

“Yes, well…” Iris’s words lingered in the air.

“I hope you will treat Tessa kindly.” Jacquie lowered her voice and gave Iris a sheepish look. “Do it…for me? And for Tessa too. She is making sacrifices as well.”

“Tessa? Making sacrifices?” Iris rolled her eyes.

“Oh, but she is. She’s leaving hearth and home, mother and father, for a world yet known. People unknown. And traveling
in uncomfortable circumstances.” Jacquie fingered the letter, her thoughts shifting.

“Uncomfortable?” Iris gestured to the grand suite.

Jacquie placed the letter on the desk and turned to face her. “Well, not uncomfortable in the physical sense, of course, but in other ways. So you must do all you can to help her. Advise, of course, but more than that, befriend. Treat her as you’ve treated me all of these years.”

“But Miss Jacquie, I can’t possibly—”

“You can. And I pray you will. She will lean on you for strength.” Jacquie wrapped Iris in another embrace. “And remember, my dear friend, whatever you do to or for her, you’re actually doing for me. So any sacrifice you might make on her behalf is one I will feel the benefit of as I journey into my new life.”

“Y–yes, Miss Jacquie.”

She offered Iris a tight hug. “Oh, I will miss you, my friend. More than anyone, I have come to lean on you. Please promise me you will enjoy your new life in America. I’ve asked my grandmother to watch over you as well as Tessa. You will be in safe keeping, I promise, so relish all that life has to offer in New York.”

“I—I will do my best, miss.”

“No more
miss
. I’m just Jacquie to you now.”

“Jacquie.” Iris swiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled. “I do hope your life is all you dreamed it would be.”

“I know it will be, because Peter is in it.” She smiled, her heart near to overflowing with joy as she thought about the man she loved. Just as quickly, fear wriggled its way down her spine. If things between them didn’t work out…

No. She wouldn’t think like that. They would marry and live happily ever after, just like the couples in the fairy tales she so enjoyed.

Jacquie rested her hands on her hips, deep in thought. “Now, a bit of last-minute business. If you need to reach me, I will be here, in Southampton, at the Willingham.”

“For how long?” Iris asked.

“Indefinitely. Peter will come and go until we can marry. I advised him to keep his job at the manor. That way my parents won’t suspect anything amiss. By the time my grandmother sends word that Tessa has arrived in my stead, perhaps Peter and I will be married. Or betrothed. At any rate, we won’t make a move until you and Tessa are safely in America.” Her thoughts contorted as she pondered how long she could afford to stay at the Willingham Hotel. Hopefully her finances would hold out.

“I wish you the best, Miss Jacquie. And I pray you find true love.”

“Oh, I have.” Jacquie’s heart flooded with warmth once again as she thought about Peter, of their life together. “All this is for him.” Indeed, all this was for him. If he asked her to sail the seven seas for him, she would do it. Anything for love. All for love.

Chapter Eleven

Wednesday, April 10, 1912, 11:02 a.m.

The White Star Line Dock, Southampton, England

Tessa found herself swallowed up by the horde of people as she pressed her way toward the starboard gate. Up the gangway she inched her way along, her heart in her throat. Finding herself at the back of a long line of passengers, she continued to stare at the ship, unable to think clearly. Should she board it…or run back to the family’s farm as fast as her feet would carry her? Before she could come to a decision, someone bumped into her from behind, sending her purse flying and nearly knocking her down in the process. She let out a little gasp, realizing that every penny she owned, all the cash Jacquie had passed her way, was in that purse.

“Pardon me, miss.”

Tessa turned as she heard the voice. Her gaze fell on a stately looking man with dark hair and twinkling eyes. “Oh, I—” She reached for her bag, but he snatched it first. Only then did she notice that he wore a reverend’s collar. To his right stood a young woman and a little girl maybe six or seven. The child gazed up at the ship, wide-eyed.

“Here you go. Sorry about that.” The minister pressed the bag into Tessa’s hands, and his eyes lingered on hers for a moment, as if he could see into her very soul. “God bless you, miss.” He
gave her a nod and disappeared into the crowd. Still, there was something about his penetrating gaze that made her vulnerable.

As she clutched her bag, Tessa whispered up a prayer. “Father, forgive me. If what I’m about to do is wrong…”

She didn’t have a chance to finish. Tessa couldn’t continue. In spite of the opportunity that sailing on this ship provided, what she was doing
was
wrong. She felt it in the pit of her stomach. Still, Peter wished this for her. Sacrificed to make this possible, no less. Turning back now wouldn’t be a very fine thank-you, would it? No, certainly not. And so, onto the
Titanic
she would go.

Tessa fought to get her bearings. Clutching her little purse tighter than ever, she thought through the plan once more, the one she had reluctantly agreed to.

Meet Jacquie at the gate. Take her ticket, her passport…her life.

It all sounded so simple.

A wave of nausea swept over Tessa as she contemplated it for the hundredth time. There would be no going back once she boarded the ship under Jacquie’s name. From that moment on, she would
be
Jacquie Abingdon, London socialite, bound for New York. After all the coaching she had received over the past two weeks, she would play the role with vigor. She would even dress the part in Jacquie’s beautiful gowns.

Lord, help me.

On the other hand, did she really have the right to ask for her heavenly Father’s assistance with a plan that seemed deceptive, at best?

Oh, but when she thought about her older brother, thought about how much he had sacrificed to make all of this possible, she found herself relishing the opportunity for a second chance at life—free from the pain of the past. Yes, surely even the Lord
Himself knew what it felt like to offer second chances. He would certainly understand and even help her.

Of course, Pa would drive her knees into the gravel, should he find out. Tessa trembled as she thought about the rocky path behind Countess’s stall where she’d served her time, her bloody knees crying out for mercy. No more. Pa would never know of her deception. He would no longer control her actions, her thoughts, or her prayers.

She drew in a deep breath and made her way through the crowd toward the gate. Off in the distance, she finally caught a glimpse of Jacquie, who glanced her way wide-eyed. Tessa paced her breathing.

Take your time. You’ve rehearsed this part.

She watched as Jacquie eased her way off the ship. At just the right moment Tessa made her move, easing through the crowd. She stepped alongside Jacquie, who slipped the boarding pass and passport into her reticule. No hug. No embrace. Just a tight squeeze of the hand and a rushed “Bless you” from Jacquie.

Then, life as Tessa Bowen once knew it changed forever. She took a calculated step onto the
Titanic
, ready for the charade to begin.

Nathan did his best to put the blue-eyed beauty out of his mind as he followed on his mother’s heels to their suite. As the steward opened the door and ushered them inside, Mama let out a gasp.

“Oh, Nathan!” She gestured to the luxurious drawing room space and spun about like a mesmerized child. “This is lovely.”

“Very nice.” Much nicer than the
Lusitania
, in fact, though he decided not to state as much.

Mother gestured to the steward, who stood at attention at
the door. “When our trunk arrives, expect a call from me. I will require your help.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The older fellow paused and stayed at attention, as if awaiting his marching orders. “Will there be anything else?”

“No.”

After he disappeared through the door, Mother walked to the window and gazed outside. “My goodness, what a mess. People everywhere.”

He stepped alongside her, his gaze on the sea. “Yes, but look beyond it at the water. Before long, we will be sailing atop it.” Nathan smiled and pondered the only words that came to mind:
“The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”

He paused to think through the verse, his imagination running free. “It never ceases to amaze me how God shows Himself in nature…in the trees, the mountains, the ocean…. And doesn’t it astound you to think of His Spirit hovering over the face of the waters? Such a concept is nearly beyond comprehension.”

“It is that.” She rolled her eyes and then eased her way onto the settee. “You are so like your father—ever the philosopher.”

Nathan turned to face her, guarding his words. “Not a philosopher, Mother. I enjoy studying the Scriptures. The Bible is filled with sage advice for happy living. I take comfort in it.”

She tilted her head to the side and offered a little shrug. “Of course, of course. It’s a fine book. But I’ve rarely known anyone to quote it as you do. Didn’t they teach you anything else in that fancy school of yours?”

“Certainly.” He bit his tongue to keep from speaking his next thought aloud. Still, he couldn’t keep it from rolling through his
head.
They taught me to honor my father and mother, though you make it a challenge at times.

She fussed with her ornate hat, finally unpinning it. “I don’t know about you, but I’m happy to be away from the chaos on the gangway. Felt like those ghastly people were pressing the air out of me.” She glanced around the room. “I would love to take a stroll around the ship, but my head aches. I think it might be best if I rest before attempting it. Do you mind?”

“No. Though I would love to take a look around while you’re napping. I promise to come back with all sorts of seaworthy tales about the people I meet along the way.”

“Sounds lovely.” Mama disappeared into her room, still muttering something about her headache as she closed the door with a click.

Happy to be alone, Nathan gazed out the window and took in the view. Off in the distance, the dock swarmed with people. It would appear all of Britain had converged in this one place to bear witness to the miracle that was
Titanic
. The Ocean’s Queen was a fine ship, to be sure. Still, grand or not, she didn’t deserve the credit.
Titanic
was, after all, just a man-made object. Neither did the builders deserve the credit. They were mere men made in God’s image.

These fine folks, exuberant in celebration, reminded him of a mighty chorus as they sang their praises of a ship and the Empire who’d built her. What would it be like, he wondered, to hear as many voices raised in grateful chorus to the One capable of spinning a world into existence with nothing but a spoken word?

Suddenly he could hardly wait for a stroll around the Boat Deck. Nathan left the suite, headed to the Grand Staircase. As he made his way down it, he paused to look up at the domed ceiling and the gleaming wrought-iron trim. His gaze shifted to the clock, and he couldn’t help but draw near for a closer look. The carved figures to the right
and left caught his eye. Such intricacy captivated him. Still, with the crowd pressing in around him, he couldn’t stand in one place for long before they pressed him ever upward toward the Boat Deck.

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