Chapter 3 #2
Delphine came to see her off at the ship.
Victoria’s arrival at the dock was somber and discreet.
She was wearing a black wool traveling suit with a long black coat, her mother’s diamond earrings, and a beautiful black hat with a veil, which she had gotten from Delphine’s milliner, the most fashionable one in New York.
Victoria looked more like a beautiful young widow than a young woman who had lost her father.
She didn’t like to think of it, but she was an orphan now.
As she walked across the gangplank, she felt a shudder, and the déjà vu of the last moments on the Titanic forced its way into her mind again.
She noticed the lifeboats, and looked away with tears in her eyes, as Delphine squeezed her hand, with tears in hers.
Victoria looked so alone as she boarded the ship.
The captain and crew were aware that she was one of the survivors of the Titanic, and had been instructed to take special care of her.
Her stateroom was handsome and very pleasant, though not as large and luxurious as the cabins on the brand-new Titanic.
She set down her black alligator traveling bag and looked around.
The crew were busy on the decks, greeting passengers and helping people settle in.
She and Delphine hugged tightly before she left.
“Take good care of yourself, and write to me,” Delphine said, dabbing at the tears in her eyes.
“You too,” Victoria said, fighting back tears of her own. “And try to have a boy this time.” Delphine laughed through her tears.
“If I don’t, I’ll be pregnant again in six months. Frederick won’t give up until we have a son.” She didn’t seem to mind the large family she had as a result, and was good humored about it, which seemed brave and remarkable to Victoria.
She was still looking around her stateroom when two stewardesses appeared to unpack her trunk.
She only had the one trunk on the return trip, and a minimum of clothes for the voyage.
She didn’t intend to socialize at all, and wanted to stay in her cabin, except for daily walks on deck to get some air.
Victoria was seated at the desk, writing a note to the captain, politely declining his invitation to join him for dinner and explaining that she wished to remain retired for the crossing, as she was in deep mourning for her father, when she heard a knock on the door and turned to see who it was.
One of the maids answered. Bert Banning’s large frame filled the doorway, and he smiled when he saw her.
“Already settling in and writing letters?” She nodded, returning his smile. He noticed that she looked very pale and her eyes were sad.
“I’m declining the captain’s dinner invitation,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t want to see anyone.”
“I hope you’ll accept mine, if you’d like to have a meal outside your cabin,” he said gently, as he walked into the room. “We can dine early and avoid the crowd.”
“I didn’t bring any evening gowns.” She had only bought two very sober ones for the trip.
“You’ll still be more elegant than any woman on board.
” Victoria always looked very fashionable whenever he saw her, and had a natural aristocratic grace and elegance about her.
She still had her hat on, and Bert thought she looked more beautiful than ever, even in her grief.
She looked very serious, and he sensed that she was nervous about the trip after what they’d been through less than three weeks before.
It was all too fresh in her mind, and even his.
“Would you like to come up on deck to see us leave the dock?” he asked her.
She hesitated and then nodded, and put her coat back on and her gloves.
He followed her out of the cabin, and up the stairs to an upper deck.
Once at the rail, they could see the last visitors leaving the ship.
Delphine hadn’t stayed to watch the ship set sail.
It made her too sad, seeing Victoria leave after such a tragic trip, and she was crying when she left.
Victoria stood quietly at Bert’s side, as they watched the dockworkers free the ship.
It moved slowly backward as it left the dock, with tugboats to assist, and slowly turned to head down the Hudson River toward the open sea.
Unconsciously, Victoria tucked a small gloved hand into Bert’s arm, as she would have with her father.
Her face was partially concealed by the haze of black veil attached to her hat, which made her look appealing and mysterious, and he could see tears glistening on her cheeks, which she brushed away with a lace handkerchief she had tucked into her pocket.
“It should be a smooth crossing at this time of year,” he said gently.
“Even a few weeks makes a difference.” It was the first of May and she was eager to get home now, and to retreat behind closed doors into the cocoon of her familiar life.
But it would be different now without her father.
“Will you be going to Hampshire for the summer soon?” he asked her, to make easy conversation as they continued their path down the river to the Atlantic Ocean.
“We usually stay in London for the season, and go to Hampshire in late June, and stay till September. We get as many invitations there as we do in town. My father always enjoyed country life more than I did. I miss the museums and the theater and all the cultural distractions of the city. Do you go away in the summer?” she asked him, and he laughed.
“I work until the beginning of August, and then I spend a month at my country home near Manchester. I like to fish,” he said, and she smiled.
“My father used to take me fishing when I was little, but I didn’t like the worms, and the fish wriggling and all the messy bits.”
“It’s not really a women’s sport,” he said, as the tugboats left them with a bleat of their horns, and the big ship continued under her own steam to the ocean.
Victoria and Bert were still on deck at the rail as the ship turned toward the horizon and picked up speed.
They were on their way. “Would you like to join me for lunch?” he asked her.
She was chilled in the brisk sea air. She shook her head.
“I’m going to take my meals in my cabin,” she said, and he nodded and accompanied her back to her stateroom and left her there.
He felt sorry for her. She looked so young and so sad.
When he had seen her before, she had had a sort of driving life force, which had infused energy into her father, but she seemed so subdued now, so quiet.
The bright light in her seemed to have dimmed without Alfred.
Bert knew that Alfred had been right in his fears.
Her life without his protection would be very different, and probably hard, even with his fortune at her disposal.
Without his presence, fewer doors would be open to her as a woman alone.
The laws in England had changed nearly thirty years before, and she was legally able to own property as a woman, but there was little more than that available to her.
Without a husband or her father, her world had shrunk immeasurably, and he was sure that she knew it too.
Victoria spent the afternoon reading in her cabin, and took a walk around the deck at the end of the day on her own.
She was thinking of all she had to do in London when she went back, the changes she would make without her father.
She wondered if people would still invite her socially as a spinster on her own.
Possibly not. With her father alive, all doors were open to her.
Without him, many weren’t. She was only just beginning to realize that.
Bert stopped by on his way to dinner. He looked very handsome in white tie and tails.
She was still wearing her plain black silk day dress to dine alone.
He wanted to scoop her up and take her to the dining saloon, but out of respect for her father’s recent death, he knew, she wouldn’t go.
And she had no interest in meeting the other passengers on this trip.
She just wanted to get home, so she could retreat.
Bert dined on his own that night, as he always did.
He had a cigar in the gentlemen’s lounge, and walked past her door on the way back to his cabin.
He thought of the lively conversations they’d had, and the card games they’d played with her father, but he couldn’t knock on her door at a late hour, to see how she was.
It was all different now that she was alone. Her father hadn’t been wrong.
* * *
Victoria woke up early the next morning, after a fitful night.
She had dreamed of the Titanic, and the image of her stern high in the air, before she broke in half and sank with the horrendous groaning sound of steel tearing apart and everything inside breaking.
She knew she would remember both the sight and the sound for the rest of her life.
She went for a brisk walk around the deck before most of the other passengers appeared. The women were asleep, and the men were at breakfast. Bert came out on deck for an early stroll just as she was going back in.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked her, seeing the answer in her eyes before she spoke.
“Well enough,” she said. It was a beautiful sunny day with a brisk wind, and the ship was moving ahead at full speed.
Bert had received some telegrams and had work to do that morning, after he took a quick walk around the deck.
“I have some business to attend to this morning,” he explained.
“I should be through by lunchtime. Would you like to join me in the dining room for lunch?” She seemed to hesitate and he thought she would decline again, and she surprised him with her answer.
“Yes, thank you. That would be very nice.” He was pleased with her unexpected response.