Rekindling Read online

  ***

  The polished wood of the promenade deck clacked under my shoes as I walked on it alongside Mother. The mild temperatures had held up, letting us actually enjoy some sea breeze: it wasn’t too hot or cold.

  “Oh look, there are the Allisons.” Mother said lowly, gesturing to the other side of the wide deck where the Allisons stood with their two children. “Would you like to greet them with me?” I shook my head weakly, not in the state of mind to entertain anyone with Henry still swirling through my mind.

  “Wait here, then.” She instructed, striding off the meet the young family with a placid smile.

  In a couple of years I would be in their exact position: married with a couple of kids. And while her children inspired nothing but tenderness, it was difficult to imagine a future with someone whom I didn’t love. I never really put much thought into my engagement to Stanley, because at the end of the day I had no say over it. My uncle was the one who secured our compromise, and at the time I didn’t care much for anything but nursing my broken heart.

  “Ophelia?” I turned with a start, smiling widely when I saw Annabelle standing behind me. Her long blond hair was glowing like a halo on her head, and her dazzling blue eyes were sparkling in the sun’s rays.

  “Annabelle!” Her fair arms encircled me in a hug, and then reached up quickly to secure her wavering hat atop her head.

  “I haven’t spoken to you in months!” I frowned, holding her at arm’s length for an inspection. Her dress was very modest, slightly hindered by the shawl wrapped around her upper arms.

  “Sorry. I meant to write, but...you know how my father can get.” She said quietly.

  Annabelle’s mother died after childbirth and ever since both her older brother and father seem to hold it against her. They tended to give her a hard time over everything. To be frank, I’ve always hated them. And as much as I’ve tried to convince Anna of leaving, she has no other family to run to, and uncle Carlton would never help me hide a well-bred lady from her family.

  “Oh, I hate those two. Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to leave them? Maybe you can marry!” At this point we were huddled closely in a more secluded corner of the deck, my Mother lost in conversation with Mrs. Allison.

  “I suppose. But what if I end up with someone worse than my father?” Ironically, Annabelle and I met at my engagement soiree about a year ago. She was quiet at first, but I saw my own personality reflected in her mannerisms. It didn’t take long before Anna opened up and we became good friends. A few weeks after I discovered her trying to conceal her bruises; it was then she told me about her family. Good thing I was under the watch of uncle Carlton that day, or I might’ve bashed her father’s head in.

  “I honestly doubt you can find someone worse than your father or brother.” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?”

  Anna sighed and shook her head. “I have no choice but to continue to live with them, at least until they find me a husband.”

  “They’ll probably choose an uncouth ogre, if it means that your life will continue to be miserable!” I protested. Annabelle shook head again, but grinned in bemusement.

  “Most likely. But they’ll never let me marry someone of my choosing.”

  “Well, that makes two of us.” I deadpanned, trying my best to convey a sense of misery.

  “Speaking of which; Henry’s here. I saw him.”...and of course, Anna had to remind me about Henry.

  “As did I. From my cabin window.” I replied innocently, watching as she threw her head back and laughed loudly. My mother’s attention was suddenly drawn to us, but for some miraculous reason she lets us continue to speak in private.

  “You won’t be able to hide from him. This ship is big, but not so much so.” She warned.

  “Perhaps, but I can try.” Mumbling cowardly, I avoided Annabelle’s piercing stare. We suddenly tensed up as Mr. Riley, Annabelle’s father, stalked towards us.

  “Miss Ashby.” He greeted, turning to glance at Annabelle frostily.

  “Hello Mr. Riley. It’s such a surprise to see you here. I never knew you were interested in spending time in America.” He gave me a terse smile in agreement.

  “Likewise. My business will be expanding in New York, but I will spare you the details.” He chortled superiorly, making me resist the urge to reply with an unflattering comment.

  “How nice of you.” I said flatly, for once emulating Mother’s style of dismissing unpleasant comments. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, smoothing over quickly as he saw mother making her way towards us. If there was anything I admired about my mother, is that she had something about her presence that made even the worst men become intimidated instantly.

  “Excuse me while I greet your mother, Miss Ashby.” He said nervously.

  Annabelle took advantage from her father’s absence to resume our conversation. “What cabin are you staying in again?”

  “D48.” I answered unsuspectingly. She shook her head in disbelief as a huge smile took over her face.

  “Word is Henry is two cabins over from you.” I was this close to bellowing a very unladylike curse to the world in agitation.

  “I have no interest where Mr. Spencer is staying. Besides, it’s probably just a silly rumor.” I said blandly, convinced that some higher power had their mind made to remind me of Henry at every turn.

  “Actually if you want to go by formalities, his title is the Duke of Hastings now—”

  “Has his father passed?” Worry clouded my face and a feeling of dread filled my body. Losing my father was one of the hardest things I had to go through, and I wish Henry never experiences it.

  “No,” Anna answered. “but he has fallen gravely ill. So ill, in fact, that he has found himself unable to perform his duties as Duke. The title was passed to Henry three months ago.”

  “How do you know all of this?” It was surprising for such a bookish girl to be in on all the gossip.

  “You’d be surprised by all of the women who visit the library to gossip.” She confessed, scowling. It was then our parents approached. Mother had a cautious smile as she placed her arm on the crook of my elbow.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation dear, but we have to be getting back to our cabin now. Carlton doesn’t want us to be out alone for too long.” Her face was apologetic, but I knew she wasn’t sorry at all. She only came on deck to see and to be seen. I gave Anna a distressed glance as I thought of Uncle Carlton’s ridiculous sense of responsibility over me and bid her farewell.

  Annoyed didn’t even begin to express my feelings for Uncle Carlton as my mother rifled through our dresses hours later.

  “Which dress are you wearing?” She asked impatiently, poking her head out of her room.

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps the emerald one?” That one was one of my favorite ones, mostly because it was so comfortable.

  “Wear the blue organza one. It complements the plain hair.” She deadpanned, going back into her room.

  “Thank you, Mother.” I replied sarcastically, scowling at her insult. No matter how thick or long my hair was, it would always remain a plain shade of brown. Just like my eyes.

  “Call a maid to help you with your corset!” She called from the bath, and I had to resist the urge to stomp my feet like a petulant child. I forcibly removed myself from one of the very comfortable upholstered chairs in the sitting room and called for a maid to help me get dressed.

  “How do I look?” I said enthusiastically, spinning in front of Mother as she finished adjusting her jewels. The young maid behind her was looking at me with approval, so I couldn’t look that bad.

  “Your pins are too loose.” She frowned, approaching me and refastening the pins on my head more securely.

  “Ouch!” I complained, trying to resist the aggressive jabs of the pins being readjusted. I tried to focus on the wooden framing of wall across the room to dull the pain. The maid winced in sympathy at a particularly angry jab
.

  “That’s what happens when you have thick hair.” Mother muttered, jamming even more pins than I had started with into my hair.

  “Well, you gave it to me!” I retorted, scrambling away from her as soon as I was released. She frowned again and opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a curt knock at the door. Thank God for small miracles. The door opened, revealing a polished looking Stanley, dressed in a simple but impeccable black suit.

  “Stanley. Come in, we’re just about finished.” He swaggered inside and accepted some brandy it was offered, then made himself comfortable in the sitting room while we finished getting ready.

  “Is Carlton going to join us?”

  “No. He’s waiting for us in the reception room.” Mother nodded understandingly and handed me a pair of diamond studs Stanley had gifted me the night of our engagement party to wear.

  I was placed on Stanley’s arm and escorted away from the other first-class staterooms, into the grand staircase. And it was aptly named. Two arching staircases merged into one, boasting a magnificently carved clock where the stairways met, and an illuminated cherub where they ended. If one looked directly down through the stairs, you could see that they extended several floors. The other first class passengers would never admit their admiration for the ship outright, but it was obvious in the way their eyes shined when they looked at the staircase.

  I made idle chit-chat with Stanley as we descended the stairs. “I ran into Annabelle earlier today.” I recalled, watching as Stanley’s face became guarded. For some reason, he wasn’t overly fond of Annabelle or her family. I couldn’t blame him for disliking her family, but he was always too eager to keep me away from Annabelle herself.

  “Don’t spend too much time with her.” He warned, walking Mother and I to one of the luxurious sitting areas of the reception room.“Wait here. I’ll return with Carlton.”

  “Why doesn’t he like Annabelle?” I asked Mother abruptly. As she had been walking on Stanley’s other arm, she heard the exchange.

  “I’m not sure, but I think there is some bad blood between Stanley and Annabelle’s older brother, Byron.” She replied quietly, straightening her spine and nodding charmingly at other passengers that were lounging in silk upholstered chairs and settees.

  Speak of the devil

  Annabelle was bounding towards us, her father and older brother following closely behind. She gave me a gentle hug and nodded politely at my mother.

  “Oh, Ophelia. I love that dress.” She held me at arm’s length to admire my dress fully. Annabelle herself was sporting a pretty soft green dress that set off the color of her eyes beautifully.

  “Do you? Mother said in contrasted with my plain features.” I said drily, giving mother a pointed look. She looked away, flustered, and pretended to strike up a conversation with a fellow American.

  “Nonsense.” Anna replied, waving away my answer. “Would you like to join us to dinner?” Her question was thinly veiled by politeness, but I had a feeling she was desperate not to be left alone with her family. They wouldn’t try anything if someone else was around.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Mother cut in. “I believe Stanley has already made dining arrangements.” He did?

  I turned a questioning eye to mother and realized she said that to keep me away from Annabelle. Exactly like Stanley had ordered. My mouth opened to contradict her but Mr. Riley spoke up instead. The bald patch atop his head shone brightly under the bright lights of the chandeliers.

  “We really must be on our way now.” He said politely, latching onto his daughter’s arm and nearly bolting away hurriedly with Byron in tow. She shot me a desperate look over her shoulder as they made for the dining saloon, and as soon as they left my sight I turned on my mother angrily.

  “Why did you say no to Annabelle?”

  “You know what Stanley said, Ophelia. He doesn’t want you around the Riley’s.” She answered slowly, as if explaining something to a small child. I hated when she did that.

  “It seems that I need to remind you that Stanley doesn’t own me. And if he can’t understand that I will do whatever I want at my leisure then he can break the engagement.”

  “Absolutely not.” Mother’s voice turned deathly silent. “We’ve gone over this before, Ophelia. The wedding is three weeks away.” As if that explained anything.

  “Even more reason to break it off! I already told you and uncle Carlton that I don’t want to marry.” I insisted, almost forgetting to whisper. “This wedding will be a disaster unless—” It was then that Stanley appeared with my uncle in tow. Really, it was impeccable dining. They made their way towards us unsuspectingly.

  “All ready for dinner?” Mother nodded gratefully (of their interruption) and was helped up by Uncle Carlton, letting Stanley and I to follow closely behind.

  Dinner was a lavish affair. Dozens of diamonds and pearls glittered under the chandelier lights, and splashes of colors overwhelmed my sight. Some dresses were bright and bold, and others were more subdued and light. The men were nothing but regal, dressed in perfectly tailored suits and bow ties. Many passengers were still frolicking around, introducing and flaunting themselves. Getting through this bunch was worse than trying to get through a congested London roadway. We stopped along the large saloon several times, both to meet strangers and chat with old acquaintances.

  “Stanley Brighton! My, I haven’t laid eyes on you since you were a boy!” A jovial voice called out, and a large man suddenly appeared before us. They greeted each other warmly, and then he turned to me and offered a tentative greeting. The man had thinning brown hair that had been carefully combed to look fuller, and a very round belly that suggested many nights of heavy drinking.

  “Jonathan Royce. What a surprise to see you here!” Stanley replied, sporting a genuine smile on his face. He must have really liked this man. Mr. Royce smiled cheerily, oddly reminding me of Santa Claus.

  “Life’s treated me well. I’m traveling with my daughter Penelope, taking care of some financial affairs in America with the Duke.” He said, waving a meaty arm behind him towards a tall figure with a full head of brown hair that was too busy speaking with someone else.

  “You know the Duke of Hastings, right?” I expelled a breath and flinched, unconsciously tightening my hand over Stanley’s arm. Suddenly Henry turned to us, guiding a short blonde girl with him.

  This could not be happening.