Maiden Voyage Read online

  “I’m just restless, I suppose,” Lucy replied, wondering if she should be easing her mother into the shocking news she was about to receive. Was there a way to soften the blow? It didn’t seem possible.

  Lucy was so incredibly angry with her father! She had successfully avoided him all day except for dinner, and had then shoved food into her mouth to prevent herself from confronting him.

  All three girls agreed it would be best to talk to Elisabeth Miles together and had concocted the plan to meet in the stateroom while Phillip indulged in his post-dinner card game. Dinner had been torturous, but now here she was, pacing in their sitting room and waiting for Abigail and Isabella—her sister.

  Her sister! Lucy looked at her mother’s calm face. How would she react when she heard she had another living daughter? Would she believe Isabella was hers? Had she ever wondered whether her baby was alive? Had her father told her mother that the baby had died? Lucy felt certain Isabella was telling the truth, that she belonged to them. She could feel their sisterhood in her bones. Would her mother feel the connection, too?

  Lucy turned on her heel for the fifteenth time and stole another look at the clock. What on earth could be keeping them? she wondered. The longer she had to wait, the more apprehensive she became. In addition to everything else, there was the very real concern that this new information would be more than her mother could bear. Even though she had once been a strong woman, her husband’s constant undermining had taken a toll—he had been poisoning her with words and with potions for a long time.

  “Lucy, please sit down. You’re making me anxious,” her mother said.

  But Lucy did not sit down, for she had just remembered the empty bottle of laudanum. She strode to the wardrobe and pulled it out.

  “Mother, I found this in Father’s attaché. Do you know why he would have it?”

  Elisabeth Miles looked from Lucy’s face to the bottle, and back to her daughter’s face. Lucy momentarily wondered if she would be scolded for searching through her father’s things, but her mother’s anger was not directed at her.

  “I can think of several reasons, all of them unfortunate,” she replied darkly. Lucy had the sense that her mother had had enough, and worried anew that the surprises were only beginning. She sat down and drew a long breath. She could not keep the news of Isabella in a moment longer! “Mother, there’s something I need to—”

  There was a knock on the door, and Abigail came into the room.

  Elisabeth tilted her head, perplexed, and then realized that the maid was not alone. Isabella, white as a freshly washed sheet, stepped into the room behind her. The dark-haired girl’s eyes were glued to the fine new carpet on the floor.

  “And who is this young …” Elisabeth trailed off. She looked from her maid, to Lucy, to the girl standing before her, and back to Lucy. Her jaw dropped, and the book she’d been holding fell to the floor as her hands began to tremble.

  Lucy set a hand on her mother’s knee. “Mother,” she said. “This is Isabella. She is—”

  A gut-wrenching sob burst from Elisabeth’s throat, halting Lucy’s explanation. Lucy felt a moment of panic. Was her mother all right? Oh, she never should have done this!

  “Isabella,” Lucy’s mother repeated, letting the name linger in the air while she got to her feet. “Our Isabella!” She opened her arms and Isabella rushed into them.

  “I knew you were alive,” Elisabeth whispered into Isabella’s hair. “I simply knew it … all these years. My daughter. My baby.” She pulled back to look at Isabella at arm’s length. “But what has happened to you?” She turned to pull Lucy into the embrace, and tears ran down their cheeks as they clung to one another—the three of them together for the very first time. Finally, Lucy pulled back and took a breath.

  “Perhaps you should sit down again, Mother. Though this is a happy moment for us, it is not a happy story.”

  Her mother did not sit—she stood taller. “I am aware of that, Lucy. I am a part of this story, and I have suspected for some time that things are not as they have seemed … not as they should have been. This proves it.

  “Come, all three of you. Let us sit and tell one another everything we know.” They pulled a few chairs around the sitting room table and sat down.

  “Go ahead,” Lucy said, nodding at her sister encouragingly.

  Isabella took a breath and began to tell her story. “I had no idea I was adopted until I was on board the Titanic. Mother—my adoptive mother, Ruth James—gave me a letter.” Isabella’s voice caught. “The parents who raised me are poor but they did all they could for me. They are kind, hardworking people. And they love me, I’m certain of that.” She paused, her eyes welling. Lucy squeezed her sister’s hand. The poor girl had been through so much—including being torn away from the only parents she had ever known. She must have been missing them terribly!

  “I have been very lucky,” Isabella choked out.

  Elisabeth leaned forward and touched Isabella’s cheek. “Yes, being well loved and looked after is lucky indeed. I, for one, am grateful to them for caring for you.”

  Lucy’s heart swelled as she looked at her mother and sister together. Then she felt the glow of happiness recede at the thought of her father. Not only did he not love her, he was out-and-out evil. “Isabella, tell Mother what you learned when you were searching for Father,” she said gravely.

  Isabella’s eyes grew wide with worry. “It’s all right,” Lucy reassured her. “She already suspects, and now she needs to know.”

  “I overheard him talking. He was telling another man that he plans to have you admitted to a sanatorium in America, and Lucy enrolled in boarding school. I heard him boasting that he could get your brother to pay for it all. He wants to leave you both and return to England with as much of your family’s fortune as he can take …”

  Lucy saw her mother’s spine stiffen even as her jaw dropped open in shock. “Does he now?” she said in almost a whisper. “Because I imagine he’s already run through my share of the family fortune.” Her eyes narrowed in anger, but behind her fury was something else—something steadfast. “Oh, Phillip. I’m afraid you are in for a few surprises …”

  A tiny smile played on Elisabeth’s lips and Lucy felt her heart leap in her chest. Her mother was not weak—she was strong. And smart. Despite her father’s attempts to manipulate her mind and health, Elisabeth Miles was still her very capable self.

  “Mother, what happened?” Lucy asked. “How did Isabella come to be adopted if we all lived in London?”

  Elisabeth stroked Isabella’s hair. “I remember the night you were born as if it were just yesterday. You decided you were ready to come into the world much earlier than we expected, and there you were, tiny as a kitten and shouting your little head off. Your father wasn’t at the birth, but I remember hearing his voice soon after you appeared. I’d only had you in my arms for a moment when the doctor took you from me so that your father could have a peek. I heard you hollering at him the hallway.”

  Lucy saw a faraway look come into her mother’s eyes. “The doctor came back without you. I asked for you, but he gave me something to drink and told me to rest. When I awoke the house was quiet. The doctor told me you had died—that you were too small to survive. I didn’t believe it. I’d seen your strength. I’d felt it. But I was so ill in those next days I was in a stupor. When I finally came out of it, I had to accept that I had lost you …”

  Tears streamed down Elisabeth’s face as she gazed at Isabella, and hazy memories began to swirl in Lucy’s mind. She remembered a baby crying. She remembered the bustle and anticipation, and later the dark quiet. She remembered the shadow of sadness.

  “That man,” Elisabeth said, her teeth gritted tightly together. “That wretched man told me you were dead.”

  “I suspect he paid the doctor to tell you that,” Isabella said. “And he tried to burn the birth certificate as well.”

  “What’s this? Another letter?” Elisabeth asked.

&nbs
p; Lucy let out her breath and reached for Abigail’s hand. “Mother, that’s how Isabella’s adoptive parents found out. They got a letter from a maid. Our maid.”

  “I suspect my mother couldn’t live with the awful lie, Mistress,” Abigail said.

  Lucy watched as a look of true horror crossed her mother’s face. “Oh no,” she gasped. “Phillip … he must have realized what she’d done … he must have …” Elisabeth turned away from the girls for the first time since they’d entered the room. She put her head in her hands and her shoulders trembled. Tears streamed down Abigail’s face, too.

  “He killed her, didn’t he?” Abigail choked out. “Master Miles killed my mother.”

  Lucy’s mother pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. She straightened, ready to answer. She opened her mouth to speak. But before she could get the words out, the stateroom door opened, and Phillip Miles appeared in the doorway.

  Isabella knew at once that Phillip Miles was drunk. She could smell the whiskey and see his eyes roaming the room, unfocused. They halted on her and narrowed to dark slits.

  “What is she doing here?” he demanded.

  Isabella blanched, but her mother appeared quite unfazed.

  “What’s the matter, Phillip?” she asked derisively. “Don’t you recognize our younger daughter?”

  Phillip Miles stood stock-still for several seconds, as if the words his wife had spoken couldn’t penetrate his brain. His face turned dark red. A vein on his neck pulsed. And then, as if he didn’t recall what had transpired only a moment before, he laughed. Isabella fleetingly wondered if he was beyond drunk—if perhaps he had lost his mind.

  “Have you forgotten to take your tonic again, my dear?” he said with false kindness. “You poor, feeble thing. Your delusions are getting the best of you. Letting thieves into our staterooms and entertaining their falsehoods! Why, I’ve already met this lying urchin on deck, but I wasn’t fooled by her play for my money, not for a single moment!”

  Isabella winced, but Lucy was up and moving toward her father. “She is not deluded, Father,” her older sister stated boldly. “In fact, I’m quite sure it is you who is delusional.”

  Phillip raised a hand to strike Lucy, but Elisabeth jumped to her feet, shoving her chair back with so much force it seemed as if the entire ship shuddered. She strode toward him.

  “Don’t you touch her,” she enunciated, her face now inches from his.

  Phillip Miles laughed again. “And who is going to stop me?”

  Without even thinking about it, Isabella found herself stepping forward to stand by her mother’s side. Within seconds Lucy and Abby were there as well, creating a wall of strength that forced Phillip Miles to take a step back. He stumbled into a chair and nearly fell, then caught himself, leaning heavily on the chair for support.

  “I won’t stand for this!” he bellowed angrily. But Isabella heard the waver in his voice, the uncertainty. She heard the fear.

  “No, Phillip,” Elisabeth corrected him. “It is we who will not stand for this. I’m telegraphing my brother immediately. You can expect police to be waiting when we reach New York.” She put her arms out and gathered the girls—including Abigail—to her side. Isabella’s heart filled with pride as she faced her father. There was no doubt he was a scoundrel, but she was no longer alone. And now she was certain … they were stronger.

  Her mother straightened, raised her chin, and spoke firmly. “Phillip Miles, your treachery will not divide this family a moment longer.”

  Abby stood close to Lucy, the word family echoing in her ears and making her heart ache. She had spent much of the last day with the sisters, marveling at how alike they were, how much they loved each other despite the fact they’d only just met. And then watching Elisabeth respond to the news with such an open, honest heart made her realize why her mother respected Mistress Miles as she did, and also why she despised her husband.

  Now she knew that it was her mother who had brought these women back together. It was this fact that filled her with equal parts pride and heartbreak, because it had cost her mother her life. Maggie O’Rourke was dead. Abby’s family had been destroyed by the man standing not five feet from her.

  “You killed her!” Abby suddenly screamed, lunging at him. “You killed my mother because she knew what you had done!”

  Master Miles’s scowl hardened into a sneer and he pushed Abby away, sending her into another chair. “Your mother was a meddling—”

  The insult was not out of his mouth when the stateroom door burst open and Felix appeared. “Abby! Abby! We’ve hit an iceberg!” the boy shouted.

  Abby blanched at the sight of her little brother. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was putting himself in terrible danger! “Felix!” she cried, alarmed.

  Felix looked from Master Miles to his sister to the rest of the people in the room, and back to Abby. He appeared to realize, quite suddenly, that barging into the stateroom to warn his sister wasn’t a wise choice. Still, he plowed ahead. “Abby, we have to get on a lifeboat!”

  Abby’s eyes widened. “Felix, what are you talking about?” She moved toward her brother, trying to get between him and Master Miles, though she knew the damage had been done.

  “Listen to me, Abby,” Felix insisted. “They’re loading women and children. We need to get to the lifeboats. The ship is sinking.”

  An iceberg? Lifeboats? It sounded impossible. And Felix did have an active imagination.

  “Where did you hear this?” she asked. If he’d been belowdecks with the crew he might have overheard a tall tale …

  Master Miles shoved his way past Abby, weaving only slightly, and glared down at Felix. “What are you doing here?” he bellowed, his moustache trembling. “You’re supposed to be in a London workhouse! You don’t belong on this ship!”

  “I came on board with my sister, of course!” Felix boasted, planting his small fists on his hips. “And I’ve been all over this ship, including the boilers! I was just up on the bridge!”

  Enraged, Master Miles turned and slapped Abby hard across the face. “How dare you disobey me!”

  Abby gasped and raised her hand to her face while the painful sting spread across her cheek.

  “Phillip, no!” Elisabeth cried, coming toward him. But Felix was closer.

  “Don’t you touch my sister!” he shouted, kicking Miles’s shins and biting his arm.

  “You vulgar little animal!” Miles bellowed as he swooped down to grab Felix. The boy wriggled away, but Miles came after him again and caught him by the arm. Yanking him upward, he threw him over his shoulder and half stumbled, half ran out of the room.

  “Felix!” Abby raced after them but the door slammed closed in her face before she could get to it. An instant later she heard a decisive click.

  “Felix!” Abby cried again, yanking at the handle. It didn’t move.

  They were locked in.

  “We’re locked in!” Abby shouted from the door, her face stricken. Lucy felt her breath catch in her throat. The horrible scene she had just witnessed was awful enough, but another worry was growing in her unsettled mind. Was Felix telling the truth? Had they actually struck an iceberg?

  “There must be another key,” Elisabeth said, calmly crossing the room to search through the desk drawers. Lucy followed, and together they began to hunt through drawers and cabinets.

  The boy was probably asleep and had a nightmare about an iceberg, Lucy found herself rationalizing as she shifted through papers. Yes, that was it. Abigail always said he had an active imagination. He had woken from a nightmare and come searching for his sister for comfort. She so wanted to believe that this was precisely what had happened, but over the room’s commotion she sensed an odd quiet—one she hadn’t felt since they’d left Queenstown three days prior.

  The ship’s engines had stopped.

  What would cause them to shut down the engines in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean? she wondered. She considered asking the question aloud, but what good would
it do? All they needed to do now was figure out how to get out of the stateroom. The Titanic was unsinkable. Everyone said so.

  “Do you hear that?” Isabella asked, pressing an ear to the door. “There are people in the corridor.” She turned to face the paneled wood and pounded with her fists. “Hello! Hello! We’re locked in! We need to get out!” But the voices receded as the people in the passage moved away. “Help!” she cried again.

  Abigail looked at Lucy with tears in her eyes. “What will he do to Felix?” she asked plaintively. “He’s all I have left in the world.”

  Lucy had no answer.

  Elisabeth left the drawer she was searching, walked to the maid, and wrapped her into a hug. “We will get out and we will get to him,” she vowed.

  Abigail nodded while Elisabeth wiped her cheeks.

  “Now where else might a key be?” Lucy asked, hoping a little distraction would help. “Where shall we look?”

  “I’ll check the drawers in Phillip’s bedroom,” Elisabeth replied. “And, Abigail?”

  Abby turned, and Lucy’s mother lifted her chin and looked her square in the face. “There’s something I need you to remember.”

  “Yes?” Abigail replied.

  Lucy watched her mother lean in and give Abigail a kiss on the forehead, watched Abigail squeeze her eyes closed with emotion. “You also have us.”

  Isabella climbed onto the sofa to look out the small window. The door was locked, but they might be able to find another way out. She blinked, surprised to see so many people on deck so late at night—the clock on the mantel said it was well after midnight. Perhaps Felix’s story about hitting the iceberg was true!

  “What do you see?” Lucy asked from the desk.

  “An awful lot of people,” Isabella replied. She pressed her face against the glass to widen her view and spotted uniformed crewmembers uncovering lifeboats, preparing to swing them over the side of the ship for lowering.