Hearts That Survive (6 page)

E
veryone at the table, except little Henry, turned their faces toward John, awaiting his response about the note. Lydia shot eye arrows at him, but he stared at the note, and after heaving a heavy sigh, he passed it to her.

"Iiieee," Lydia squealed, then grimaced. Phoebe giggled.

"Oh, I know what that is," Caroline said, "but what does it say? I'm assuming it's about your wedding."

Lydia pretended to be nonchalant. "It's only a formal invitation to dine at Captain Smith's table this evening in the À la Carte Restaurant." But she felt euphoric and read it aloud.

To

Mr. John Ancell and Miss Lydia Beaumont

It would be my distinct honor

If you would dine at my table

in the À la Carte Restaurant

RMS Titanic

Saturday, April 13, 1912

From

Edward J. Smith, Captain

P.S.

Mr. Craven Dowd will be welcome,

along with a few friends of your choice

Her first thought was
Why Craven?
But of course, Craven had sailed with her father many times. He'd been with her and John during most meals. The three of them were obviously traveling together.

"You know what that must mean?" said Lady Lavinia.

"Let's see," Lydia said innocently, "it means he admires my father, who will sail with no other captain?"

Lady Lavinia clicked her tongue. "As long as nothing interferes with whatever makes the passengers happy, it will be done."

Caroline scoffed, "What on earth, I mean what on the sea, could be more important than a wedding on this grand ship?"

Lydia appreciated their playfulness. She'd witnessed the excitement and the nerves of friends anticipating their wedding, the plans that had to be made, the wondering daily if all was going to fall through. Some threatened to elope. "In case we can do this," she said tentatively, "I'll need help."

Before the words left her mouth, Lady Lavinia said, "Done." Caroline touched her arm. "Of course."

Lydia held up the invitation. "The captain said for us to invite friends of our choice. Would you join us?"

"Already on my agenda, dear," Lady Lavinia said.

"On mine now," Caroline added.

"I would be honored," Phoebe said, like a confident young lady.

All eyes turned to her.

"Weren't you planning to be with some of the young girls in the sidewalk café this evening?" her father asked.

Her dark curls bounced with the shake of her head. She looked at her crystal water glass, demurely picked it up, and took a sip.

Unsure of what to say, Lydia smiled at Phoebe, then noticed a steward nearby. "Should we order?"

While others were discussing who had eaten what, she perused the menu and noticed there were twice as many delectable items in the buffet column than for the luncheon and grill combined. "It all looks so good."

Sensing a movement, she looked over at John. He discreetly placed two fingers against his cheek. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes seemed to say they had their own private joke.

It was no joke, but she felt a delighted tickle in her throat. Yes, she was eating for two. She decided on the fillets of brill.

After ordering, Caroline asked Phoebe if she had a favorite part of the ship.

"The French sidewalk restaurant," Phoebe said immediately. "It's nicer here than in Paris." She paused. "And I like the band."

"Our Phoebe is quite an accomplished pianist," Lady Lavinia said proudly. "Little Henry, on the other hand, is much like his father at that age, still trying to figure out what makes things work."

"Henry, do you have anything favorite on the ship?" Lydia asked.

He nodded. "The camel."

"Oh, you've ridden a real camel?"

He nodded.

"No, he hasn't," Phoebe corrected. "Only the jumping one in the gym."

Henry continued playing with the utensils, unperturbed.

"I haven't ridden the camel," Lydia said, "but I looked in the window of the gym and saw it. The mechanical horses too."

S. J. began to tell John about the gym. Lydia noticed Caroline and Lady Lavinia often spoke in soft tones as if the conversation were not for the entire table.

Soon their lunch came, and while enjoying the sumptuous food Lydia tried not to be too obvious in observing Phoebe and Henry. She liked children just fine, but generally gave them little thought. Now she wondered if her child would be a girl like pretty Phoebe or a boy like the adorable Henry.

While eating, she noticed Caroline and Lady Lavinia still engaged in private conversation. However, any uneasiness vanished when lunch ended and Lady Lavinia addressed Lydia. "Caroline and I have been scheming," she said. "We should meet for tea this afternoon with some of the other ladies and get this wedding event under way."

As Craven had warned, she shouldn't put the cart before the horse. "The invitation is only for dinner. The captain didn't mention a wedding."

"Well, if Caroline and I aren't convincing enough," Lavinia said, "we'll sic Molly on him."

They laughed, knowing the flamboyant Molly Brown's charm and personal stories delighted and impressed everyone.

John spoke up, "With you ladies ganging up on the captain, what can he say?"

"What else?" Lydia said, finding John's playful mood contagious, "but, 'Ahoy mates'?"

E
ach time Lydia thought of becoming John's wife in this romantic setting, shivers of excitement washed through her like an ocean wave about to overwhelm. The wedding bells seemed to be ringing, and she'd had little time to freshen up since lunch and be ready for tea with heaven only knew who.

The girl in the mirror looked at her with shining eyes, glowing skin and a smile on her lips. "Sorry, Lady Grace Frazier," who would have looked forward to planning her wedding, "I'm off to plan my own wedding."

She hardly had time to even miss John. But he was off on important errands after lunch. Caroline reminded him he'd need to respond to the captain's invitation. And John said he would show the invitation to Craven, since he was included.

A few minutes before two o'clock, Lydia left her suite and almost floated up the grand staircase to the boulevard leading to Café Parisien. She entered the sunlit veranda decorated with ivy and other plants scaling the trellises. Yes, this really was a boulevard and as Phoebe had said, even more like Paris than Paris itself. The other ladies were already seated.

Caroline saw her first and lifted her hand in greeting. Three tables had been moved together. Around them were seated Caroline, Lady Lavinia, and Phoebe. Three others she'd seen but had not met formally were Molly Brown, Madeleine Astor, and Harriett Sylverson.

Introductions were made, congratulations extended, questions and answers exchanged between Harriett and the French waiter, and tea and scones ordered by everyone, except Phoebe, who preferred hot lemonade.

The discussion turned immediately to the wedding.

"But," Lydia cautioned. "shouldn't we wait until the captain tells us for sure?"

"Oh, he knows already," Lady Lavinia said with a dainty sweep of her thin, lace-gloved hand. Madeleine smiled sweetly as if agreeing with her statement.

"Of course he knows," Molly said, "but before telling us women—" the roll of her eyes brought chuckles and nods, understanding exactly what she meant by that sarcastic tone of voice, "he will make certain the right men are present. They will make their plans about how the publicity is to be handled. Just you watch who's at the dinner table tonight and be prepared for all the photos being snapped."

Conversation quieted while the waiter served the delicacies.

Lady Lavinia took a sip of tea, lowered her cup, and addressed Molly, "You'll be with us at the captain's table tonight, I assume."

Molly's china cup clinked against the saucer as she set it down. "Been there every night so far." She laughed. "The men will make the decisions, but they need some outspoken women to tell them which ones to make."

Lydia had loved her before she formally met her. Some who were considered among the "new money" class weren't really accepted by some who had name, background, and wealth reaching as far back as Methuselah. But Molly accepted herself, and from the expressions of the women around the tables, including Lydia, they admired her spunk and forwardness, a quality that proper ladies were expected to keep in strict abeyance.

"You see," Lady Lavinia explained further, "this is an event to be publicized. The
Titanic
has already received wide acclaim. Simply sailing into New York harbor is anticlimactic. But a new bride, being the first to be married on this floating pal—"

"City!" Molly broke in. "This is no palace. It's a world. There's nothing like this in all Europe. And I've seen it all."

"Quite true," Lady Lavinia agreed. Others nodded. "Grander even than Windsor."

"Well, let's get on with the plans," Molly said. "We'll have ourselves a wedding, and if Edward can't perform the ceremony, I'll do it myself."

"Then it's settled," Caroline said in her calm way. "We'll tell that to Captain Smith, and he won't dare back down. He doesn't allow chaos on his ships."

With the what-ifs and maybe-nots out of the way, the real plans began.

"You'll need something borrowed, something blue, and a sixpence for your shoe," Caroline said.

Lydia laughed. "You don't suppose a coin in my shoe would cause me to trip and fall? That would be the ultimate disgrace."

"Oh, but you'll have someone to escort you, won't you?" Madeleine asked. "Like walking someone down the aisle of the church?"

"My father isn't here, and I don't have anyone to do that."

"What about that nice Mr. Dowd?" Lavinia said. "He seems to hover over you and John like a chaperone."

Lydia began shaking her head and glanced at Caroline, who smiled knowingly. "Um . . . nooo."

"Enough said," Molly put in, getting the point that Craven's role had not been to chaperone. "You don't need an escort. The attention should be on you only."

Phoebe spoke up. "I could be the flower girl."

"Indeed! Yes!" came from several of the women, and they all looked pleased.

Phoebe looked ready to pop with pleasure. "I get pink roses in my room every morning. And I have a really pretty pink gown that Grandmother got for me."

"Oh, it's gorgeous," Lavinia said. "I hope it won't outshine the bride."

Phoebe shook her head and spoke wistfully, "She's so pretty."

"Well, that settles that," Molly said. "The prettiest bride and the prettiest flower girl on the ship."

Phoebe looked so grandly happy, Lydia supposed she didn't realize they would be the only bride and flower girl on the ship.

"Henry could be a ring bearer. He'll be good if we tell him he won't get a train for Christmas if he misbehaves."

"Holy Mackerel!" Molly came unglued. "I was lucky to get a whistle for Christmas. Not the whole train."

Finally, the group settled down from the kind of boisterous laughter Lydia had only experienced with her young friends. When she could get her breath, she explained John's toy trains to Molly.

"But," Lydia announced, "this was not preplanned. I don't have a wedding band."

"Let's see if you could use mine." Caroline removed her wedding band, and Lydia easily slid it onto her finger with only a slight tug over her knuckle. She returned it to Caroline, who said, "John wouldn't really need one. Many men don't wear them, you know."

"I have the perfect cushion in my suite for the ring," Madeleine offered. "And now that you have a flower girl and ring bearer, what about a maid or matron of honor and best man?"

Lydia slipped her hand over Caroline's and lightly tapped it. Her friend smiled, turned her hand over, and gave Lydia's a little squeeze.

"Since Lydia and Caroline are holding hands under the table, maybe matron of honor has been decided." At Molly's words, they returned their hands to their laps and leaned away from each other, again bringing frivolity to the group.

Oh, planning was fun, even if something happened to prevent the wedding from materializing.

"I'd be delighted," Caroline said. "If that's what the handholding meant."

"It is." Lydia looked around at the happy faces of the women. "John will have to decide on best man." She looked at Molly. "Won't he?"

Molly lifted her shoulders. "Yeah. Then we'll see if it's the right one."

They could hardly drink their tea or keep a straight face when the waiter came to attend any further refreshment inclinations.

Lydia recalled that Craven had already refused to be best man, only an objecting
better man.
John's new friend S. J. would be perfect. Especially since his children would be taking part.

"I could wear my pink and rose gown," Caroline said. "If those colors suit you."

"That sounds grand. And something old should be no problem. A corset. A comb," Lydia mused.

"The engagement ring is new," Caroline said, "and the wedding band is borrowed."

"I have a blue garter," Madeleine offered.

"I'll give the gold coin," Molly said. "Heaven knows I have more than I know what to do with."

"Might I say something?"

The talking ceased, and they became as tranquil as the ocean. Although Harriett had joined in the frivolity, she hadn't said much. Judging by the intense look on her face, Lydia had a feeling Harriett might throw a splash of reality on their sea of plans. A few cups made a tinkling sound, returning to their saucers as if teatime had ended.

"
Ma chère,"
Harriett said, "do you have a wedding gown?"

"No, I—"

She stood. "Never mind. If we're to dress for dinner, we'd best adjourn this little tête-à-tête and continue the discussion later."

Not even Molly made a comment, but studied Harriett with curiosity. Others looked as uncertain as Lydia felt about Harriett's abrupt dismissal when she had not really been much of a participant.

Nevertheless, they deferred to her and adjourned the . . . tête-à-tête.