“You’re incredible,” James said.
Cassian shrugged, feigning modesty. He knew he was. But so was John.
Standing shoulder to shoulder with James, Cassian watched as the lifeboat began to be lowered. Behind him,Titanic’s musicians played, their notes lively and resonant, and for the first time since initially coming out onto the boat deck, Cassian found that he could let himself be calmed by the lively tunes.
All that was left for Cassian was to figure out how to secure a spot for himself and James in one of the remaining lifeboats. Even though the likelihood of it, for the moment, seemed grim, Cassian promised himself that he’d succeed.
Because he was Cassian Penn Livingston.
And he always got what he wanted.
Didn’t he?
Chapter Twenty-Three
James
April 15, 1912
1:18 a.m.
Over the course of only a few minutes, more and more passengers began to swarmTitanic’s boat deck. Earlier, there had only been a few relatively small clusters of passengers close to the lifeboats, most of the crowds orderly, even when the majority of men were informed that they could not leave with their loved ones. Now, however, there were suddenly hordes of people—men, women, and children—all rushing toward the remaining lifeboats and pleading to be taken aboard. Seeing the terror-stricken faces of the children and hearing their helpless cries stole the breath from James’s lungs, calling forth a swell of sympathy that nearly sent him to his knees. He stood frozen for the next several minutes, a heap of blankets still cradled in his arms, unsure of whether or not he could even hand them to the officers amidst the chaos.
“Dammit, where did all of these people come from?” Cassian asked from beside him. “Dear God!”
James began to feel lightheaded. How could they ever get a lifeboat now? Earlier, it had seemed possible, like maybe if they waited calmly for a little longer, the women and children presenton board would eventually be whisked away to safety, and then the remaining boats could be filled with the men who were left here on the boat deck.
But now James was beginning to realize just howmanypeople there were aboardTitanic. Including more women and children, who had a right to spots on the remaining lifeboats, especially above someone like him—a lowly saloon steward, one who was unwed and who hadn’t sired even a single child—and even someone like Cassian, since he, too, was an unmarried, childless man, wealthy though he was.
“Come on, James.” Cassian shoved him forward toward the couple of lifeboats closer to the sinking bow. “We have to catch one.”
But James not only knew how improbable such a feat would likely be, but how cruel, too. How callous he’d have to be to fight his way to the front of the crowds and steal a spot from someone else, especially since that someone might be an innocent child. Still, James couldn’t make himself push back right now. He hadn’t the strength for it. Instead, he let Cassian coax him forward and hoped that he could at least unload the blankets somehow.
Soon, the two men reached the first lifeboat nearest to the First-Class Smoking Room. Glancing over, even though he couldn’t see inside, James was hit with a sea of memories from his shifts there, some only formed mere hours ago, though now it felt as though a whole lifetime had passed since. Gathered around the lifeboat, there were men pushing and shoving and shouting and begging to be let in. James took one wobbly step forward, intending to offload the blankets, when a shot rang out, the sound so thunderous that it shook him to his core, reverberating in his chest.
“Stand back!” one of the officers shouted.
James released the blankets, and they landed in a heap on the deck in front of him as he clasped his hands over his mouth. Cassian, too, reeled back, his eyes widening with shock. Seconds passed while James stood there with his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Then, James heard a man who was standing beside the boat say, “You hold mommy’s hand on the boat and be a good little girl.”
James released an anguished cry, the sound ripping forth from his throat, and then he whirled around to face away. Cassian immediately wrapped him up in an embrace, social norms and propriety be damned, and pushed a hand through James’s hair. James squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for being so emotional, but unable to keep the now-constant waves of sympathy and grief from pummeling him.
“Let’s go inside for a while,” Cassian said into his ear. “It must be calmer there.”
After a brief pause, James inhaled a quivering breath and nodded. Dazed, he followed Cassian inside the vessel, and the two moved to the Smoking Room where James collapsed into the first chair he saw. Several seconds ticked by as the shock of having witnessed such a harrowing scene passed through him. Finally, once James’s heart rate slowed and the sorrow cleared from his eyes, he was able to survey the room. Surprisingly, there were still a few people present in the strangely calm oasis, smoking and playing cards while mayhem raged outside the walls of the ship.
“Cassian,” James began through an exhale, “I cannot board a boat, not while there are still so many women and children fighting for spots on them.”
“I know,” Cassian said, his voice tight, but kind. He knelt beside James. “I knew it the moment that I saw your face out there when the officer fired his gun.”
“Do you hate me for it?” James asked softly.
Cassian shook his head. “No.”
James swallowed hard, his eyes welling up again. “It’s not that I’m content to die here. I want tolive, Cassian.Of courseI want to live. But I cannot shove my way through a crowd such as that one and ask to be saved ahead of others. Or sneak onto a boat, like some of those men were seemingly hoping to do.”
“I know, James,” Cassian said with a small, warm smile. He leaned in close. “It’s one of the reasons that I fell for you. You are anexceptionalperson.”
