Creasing his brow, the cabin steward seemed to think about this for a moment.
“We better tell passengers to dress warmly,” he eventually said.
James nodded. He supposed he couldn’t retire for the evening yet, then, since this steward seemed to expect his help. He whirled around to knock on the first door, but before he could rap his knuckles on the wood, the other man spoke.
“Do you have a lifebelt?” he asked.
Dread sent another shiver up James’s spine. He lowered his hand.
No, he didn’t.
“I should fetch mine, perhaps,” the man said without first waiting for James’s answer. “Set an example.”
James’s entire body began to shake, but he forced a nod, and the other man left for his room. James stood frozen for several long seconds, knowing, vaguely, that there was a potential emergency and that he ought to move, but fear kept him rooted to the spot.
Soon, the other man returned. He began knocking on people’s doors, one by one. Still, though, James remained in the same exact location, unable to make himself move, shock and confusion muddling his mind as icy, fear-laden blood pumped through his veins.
Only when he heard Ethel’s voice floating down the length of the corridor did James manage to come to his senses. He looked over to see her coming out of what might have been Cassian’s room, though James couldn’t be one hundred percent certain from where he was standing.
“Ethel!” he cried out, his voice wrought with an urgency that even startled him a little. “Ethel Barrington!”
Ethel and Cassian’s valet looked over and started toward him, their foreheads marked with worry. Ethel’s lifebelt was securelyaround her, the straps fastened. Mr. Quinn was still working the ties on his.
“James, is it?” Ethel said, and James nodded. “James, what’s happening?”
“I think there’s something wrong with the ship, maybe, though I’m not really sure,” he said cautiously. “I-I was on my way back to my room when one of the other stewards stopped me and asked me to relay instructions for passengers to put on their lifebelts and make their way to the boat deck. He said that it was only a precaution but...”
“Dear God,” Mr. Quinn whispered.
“I have to find my mother,” Ethel said.
“Yes, find her and bring her with you to the boat deck,” James said. “But where’s—”
“Cassian isn’t with us,” Ethel said, her face contorting with a level of concern that made James’s knees weak. “I’m not surewherehe is. Oh, James, we have to find him.”
“I will, I will,” James promised, even as a fresh surge of fear shot through him, sending his heart up into his throat. He swallowed hard, pushing his fear down, and then took a long, measured breath to compose himself. “I will.”
Ethel and Mr. Quinn hurried away. James rushed to Cassian’s room. The door was ajar. Most likely, then, this was the room from which Ethel and Mr. Quinn had emerged before. Spinning in a little circle, James pushed his hand through his hair again, barely able to keep the next swell of panic at bay. He hadn’t seen Cassian in the Smoking Room before, and now, the man wasn’t in his room, either, even though it was well after midnight.
Where was he?
Chapter Twenty
Cassian
April 15, 1912
12:08 a.m.
Hands hooked behind his back, Cassian was standing in the corridor outside James’s overcrowded bedroom, waiting for James to return from his shift. Not many people were milling around. Only a few. Thankfully, no one who had seen Cassian had bothered to ask him why he was in this particular part of the ship. If Cassian had to venture a guess, he supposed that the stewards and stewardesses were probably intimidated by him, especially those who knew who he was. Cassian furrowed his brow. For how long would his name continue to command such respect and admiration once people started to wonder why a man like him—rich, handsome, influential, and a few years past thirty—stillhadn’t gotten married or had children? Three years? Six? Cassian hadn’t a clue. Bachelorhood had been embraced by some men, especially in the cities, but not by most in Cassian’s circles. And it seemed like more and more often, those men whowereunmarried, especially ones who had never once had a wife or fathered children, were seen as selfish and untrustworthy, amongst other things.
Closing his eyes, Cassian inhaled a long breath and reminded himself that whatever the price might be for eternal bachelorhood, he’d happily pay it for James.
“Lifebelts, everyone!”
Cassian opened his eyes.
“Everyone put on your lifebelts!” someone shouted as they walked down the corridor, moving with fast, purposeful strides. He stopped in front of Cassian and crooked an eyebrow. “You’re not a steward.”
