“Very much,” Ethel replied with a cordial smile, her exuberance from earlier already having fizzled away. “It’s a lovely room. Truly. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He frowned a little. “Are you... well? You seem—”
“Actually, I’m feeling a bit tired.”
“Ah. I can’t blame you. It’s been a long trip. Perhaps, next time, you should stay back in New York, as I suggested?”
“I might. Will you be traveling to London often for business?”
Cassian shrugged one of his shoulders. “I’m afraid so. I’ll be partnering with Mr. Ellerman to open a manufacturing plant here in London. Over the next year or so, I’ll likely be coming to Europe every couple of months. Not for as long, mind you, but I won’t be home all the time. Still, I’ll see to it that the two of us have some time together after our wedding in the fall. Don’t worry about that.”
“I see,” she said, nodding slowly. “And I’m not. Worried, that is.”
Of course she wasn’t.
“Mr. Quinn has helped me arrange a tour of the first-class accommodations on the ship,” Cassian said. “If you’d like to come, I think it could be fun to explore everything thatTitanichas to offer together. But if you’re too tired, that’s fine, too.”
Ethel rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, her brow furrowing and eyes falling to her lap while she seemed to consider the offer. After a moment, she looked back up at Cassian and smiled shyly.
“I’m, ah, I’m feeling well enough to explore, I think.”
Cassian smiled back, relief washing over him upon seeing some of her happiness returning.Titanic’s horns began to blare. Cassian raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated and playful manner.
“We’re officially on our way home now, it seems,” he said.
“Shall we find Mr. Quinn for the tour, then?” Ethel asked, her smile blossoming so much that her eyes were crinkling at the corners.
Cassian held out his arm. “Yes, let’s.”
Together, the two walked back out to the corridor. Cassian patted her hand, satisfied that things were improving.
***
That evening, shortly before their scheduled seven o’clock mealtime, Cassian was enjoying a concoction called Punch à la Romaine—a rum- and champagne-based cocktail—while waiting in the reception area for the saloon to open. Murmurs of lively conversation mingled with happy notes from the string band, the sounds converging as a pleasant, melodic hum in Cassian’s ears. Milling around the space with Ethel on his arm, Cassian was onlyhalf listening to whatever Ethel, Mr. Quinn, and Helena were talking about. Instead, he was mostly taking in some of the finer intricacies of the ship’s architecture, like the candelabra at the base ofTitanic’s forward Grand Staircase. Suddenly, Cassian’s mind floated back to the bronze cherub statue that he had seen earlier, and he found himself thinking about his time with the saloon steward on the boat train. He couldn’t help but wonder how the fellow was settling in.
“Cassian?” Ethel asked. “What are your thoughts?”
Cassian blinked twice. “Apologies, I was thinking about the—the paperwork I have to mail back to London once we reach home. What are we talking about?”
“Just whether or not we ought to try the swimming bath. It’s still relatively chilly outside, isn’t it?” Ethel said.
“I, for one, can’t imagine swimming right now,” Mr. Quinn said. “In the summertime, though, maybe.”
Ethel lifted her eyebrows. “See, Cassian, that’s precisely what I was thinking. I wonder why they’d even open such a thing in April.”
Cassian bristled a little. He had paid a handsome sum of money for them to travel in luxury, which included use of the saltwater swimming bath, regardless of the season.
“Yes, well, the bath is heated, if I remember correctly, so I shall certainly try it. Honestly, we shouldalltry to enjoy as much ofTitanic’s splendor as possible. Otherwise, why in God’s name did I pay so much for our tickets?” He forced a light laugh as he realized how curt he probably sounded. “I think you ought to go for a swim tomorrow, Ethel. It will be refreshing. I promise.”
“You’re too right, Mr. Livingston,” Mr. Quinn said, his tone noticeably apologetic.
Just then, the nearby crew began to welcome people into thesaloon. Mr. Quinn bowed his head.
“Well, that’s my cue to leave. I believe I’m meant to eat on C-Deck with the other servants.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Ethel replied.
“It’s fine, miss.” Mr. Quinn smiled an obviously false smile. “I love meeting new people. It’ll be fun, I think, to chat with some other valets.”
