Chapter 4 #2
Feeling a rush of heat and a sudden nausea, I run to the small porthole and toss it open.
The flow of fresh air against my face cools the worst of it, and I’m slowly able to calm down.
Shutting my eyes to the world, I imagine my mother, how she would have been now, and quietly wish she were here at my side.
“Lillian?” An exasperated voice of worry pulls me from my sweet imagination, and I slowly turn to it half in a trance. Ben stands at the door, chest heaving, watching me. “You… You weren’t coming to the door. Did you even hear me?”
I open my mouth to speak but realize I hadn’t heard a lick of anything. “No, I’m afraid I didn’t hear you,” I answer, trying not to sound shaken. I slowly close the porthole and turn back to him.
“You look like you’ve been sick,” he states plainly.
“Oh, that’s a wonderful comment,” I say with a laugh before returning to the center of the room. I hold my hands clasped in front of me, slightly embarrassed I’d caused him worry. Like a scolded schoolgirl, I await my punishment.
His fingers fall from the doorknob, and the initial look of nervousness turns to one of care. “Would you like some fresh air?”
I raise my eyebrows. I haven’t left this small room more than twice for a walk because of his orders. When he doesn’t recant his statement, my brows go further still. “You’re serious?”
“I am,” he states with some uncertainty. When I don’t respond, he seems to snap out of his stupor. Reaching out a hand, he does his best to reassure me. “We won’t go anywhere that puts you at risk. I’ve scoured every inch of this ship the past few days; you’ll be safe.”
Knowing a break from these four walls would do wonders for my disposition, I nod and take Ben’s hand in mine. He holds it tightly and leads me out the door. As we pass the boudoir by the threshold, I hesitate. “Should I wear my scarf?”
Sadness washes over him as he reluctantly nods. With a sigh, I pull the line of silk from its hook and quickly hood it over my head. Soon my hair will be a blessing, not a curse. Soon the dark curls will blend in and will no longer be a liability.
With a knot secured and an unassuming jacket pulled on over my blouse, I meet Ben at the door, and together, we exit into the hallway.
The air is already less stuffy, and the change of scenery quickly puts my mind to work.
Not an ornate ship by any means, the first-class hallways are still finished nicely with dark woods and brass accents.
It’s nicer than some ships I’ve sailed on through the years.
It’s also far less of a labyrinth here than on lower decks.
Within two turns and one stairwell, we’ve reached an upper promenade deck.
Feeling a breeze, I quickly leave Ben’s side and reach the railing.
A salty ocean spray churns at the water line below.
The gentle lap of the waves against the ship’s hull provides me a soothing melody as I look out toward the horizon.
A gentle presence further eases my state. Ben places a reassuring hand on the small of my back as he steps up beside me. The deck is quiet; the closest person is dozens of yards down toward the bow. Here at midship, it’s just the two of us.
Ben knows we’re alone too, because after two minutes of us enjoying the view together, his hand leaves me to join his other clasped over the railing. “Margaret is worried about you.”
I sigh as I lean forward. Daring to look him in the eye, I tilt my head toward him, but he refuses to meet me.
I know nights in my suite haven’t necessarily been silent, but it’s not as though I can help it.
I could lie and tell him not to worry, but the truth is that things have been getting worse.
Only Diederick and I know the extent, but Ben deserves that same knowledge.
“Things have steadily grown worse,” I whisper, giving up on talking to him face to face. My gaze finds the horizon where the courage to tell the truth resides. “The dreams grow clearer each night, but when I wake, I can hardly remember the specifics besides the screams.”
“How do you know they get clearer if you can’t remember?” he asks, with every right to inquire.
“Margaret tells me. I’ve enlisted her help.” Ben stiffens beside me, and I can tell he’s about to admonish me, so I jump into the rest of it. “I know you don’t trust her, but she’s on this team for a reason, and her skills are useful.”
“I hope you can see that trusting her to sit by your bedside and translate gibberish is much different from letting her in on the truth.” I can’t stop the scoff that escapes me.
“I wouldn’t knowingly divulge anything of that importance without speaking to you first.” I push away from the railing and cross my arms. “You should know that.”
He follows my retreat, but his voice rises with it. “You’ve hardly spoken to me since we left England.”
I feel my face twist up in anger as I rise onto my toes to meet him head-on. “You’ve hardly given me the chance.” At the bark in my tone, we both are reminded of where we are. He reaches out a hand to steady me, and suddenly the anger is gone from both of us.
Letting out a breath, I reach for his hand. To my surprise, he lets me take it. “We need to be as equipped as possible when we land. They’ll all find out the truth eventually. Out of all of them, I trust Margaret the most.”
Ben swallows but eventually nods. “I can’t fault you for that. I just want you to err on the side of caution. Who’s to say you won’t say something you regret, or Margaret misinterprets something, or worse still, she manipulates the story to her own gain?”