Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
Rocking back on his heels, he said, “I suppose that’s true.
He has surprised me quite a bit, too. He’s not as .
. . uncaring as he seemed to me when I first met him.
Funnily enough, I still liked him then, even when I thought he was probably too selfish to see past his own nose. But he’s not like that. Not really.”
“He’s a complicated man,” Ethel said. “More so than I once thought as well.”
“Complicated is an apt description, I’d say,” James agreed. “Cassian Penn Livingston is a lot of things at once. Some of them bloody infuriating.”
Laughing lightly, Ethel said, “Good luck, James. I can imagine that he’s a hard man to please.”
James chuckled a bit more and shrugged.
“He is. But I like it that way.”
Ethel smiled up at him fondly. She reached out and patted the empty chair next to her.
“Would you like to sit with me?” she asked.
“Depends,” James said. “Can I make myself useful?”
“If you can knit.”
“I can. A little. I’m better at sewing, though.”
Ethel pursed her lips in thought. After a moment, she excused herself and walked over to a small group of women who were working on clothing on the other side of the room.
James watched her chat with them for a minute or two.
Then, Ethel returned with what looked like a partially finished shirt, along with a needle and thread.
“Here,” she said, handing the items to him. “One of the ladies over there started to sew a shirt for one of the surviving crew members. Apparently, he’s a fair bit taller than all of Carpathia’s passengers and hasn’t been able to find an extra shirt that fits well.”
James inspected the fabric. “Did this used to be a bedsheet or something?”
“Most likely, yes. I made a little girl’s dress yesterday from a bedsheet.”
Running his fingers over the linen, James considered whether he ought to stay and work on it. He supposed a poorly sewn shirt would probably be better to that fellow than no shirt at all. And besides, someone had started it already. Hopefully he wouldn’t be able to botch the rest of it too badly.
“Alright, sure, I’ll help,” he said.
Both he and Ethel sat. All James needed to do was sew on the sleeves and then add the buttons. Not a small amount of work, but not impossible, even for a novice like him.
Over the next hour, James and Ethel worked side by side.
James was surprised that he wasn’t as bad at sewing as he’d remembered.
He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his work, even after only finishing one of the sleeves.
More than that, though, he felt so Goddamned happy to know he was helping.
“Are you looking forward to living in New York?” Ethel eventually asked.
“Yes and no,” he replied honestly. He lowered his voice even though it seemed as though no one else was close enough to hear them.
“I’ve never even visited your country. I’m not certain how I’ll like it.
Besides that, everything with me and Cassian feels so uncertain now.
I’m not even sure what I’ll do for work, not to mention where I’ll live.
Unfortunately, I’m not qualified for much.
I was only a hall boy and a footman before starting as a steward for the White Star Line.
And I can’t imagine that Cassian would want me to be someone else’s servant.
He’s a bit protective. Or, well, possessive, even, as you can maybe imagine. ”
Ethel let out a laugh mixed with a hum.
“Yes, I certainly can imagine that,” she said. “Judging by what I’ve witnessed so far, Cassian seems to be extremely taken with you. He’s enamored. And, yes, protective.”
James wrinkled his nose. Ethel had likely seen Cassian cuddling him over the last couple of days, hadn’t she?
“I really do apologize, Ethel,” he began tentatively, “if Cassian and I ever made you uncomfortable here on Carpathia. I promise I’ll be more cognizant of our closeness now that I have my wits about me.”
“Oh, I wasn’t bothered,” she said. “At first, I found it a little strange, maybe, but then I remembered how excited I am to be so physically close with John once we’re married, and, well, that made me see things a bit differently.”
Gratitude swirled in James’s chest, the sensation so pleasant and calming that it banished his lingering sorrow and grief.
“Thank you,” he whispered, a small smile creeping across his face, “for being so impossibly kind about everything.”
Ethel smiled warmly in return, and she paused her sewing.
“You saved my life, James. In multiple ways, I think. Had Cassian not met you, I’m not sure that he ever would have let himself see what was blossoming between me and John.
And even if he had, I’m positive that he wouldn’t have let me go so easily.
I’d have never had the chance at true happiness. Not like what I feel now, with John.”
James’s smile broadened. Ethel’s did, too.
After a brief moment of silent comradery, both of them returned to their sewing.
***
Hours later, once James was finished making the shirt, he began heading back to the stateroom to meet up with Cassian but stopped to find some food for both of them.
Earlier, Cassian and John had met up with James and Ethel in the saloon.
When Cassian had first seen James there, sewing and chatting with Ethel, he had looked so impossibly relieved—his eyebrows lifting and brown eyes shimmering with what looked like unshed tears.
His relief had been palpable, causing James’s heart to flutter and ache simultaneously.
James hadn’t really let himself acknowledge how worried Cassian must have been over the last however many hours while he’d been in a near catatonic state.
Oh, the poor man.
Witnessing Cassian’s reaction had only strengthened James’s resolve not to let himself fall back into a laudanum-induced haze, and now James was walking through the rescue ship with a renewed sense of purpose.
More than anything, he wanted Cassian to be happy.
And he knew precisely the thing that would make Cassian happiest—having his steward back.
James knew that if he really needed the laudanum or some other kind of coddling, Cassian wouldn’t begrudge him for it. But James had hope now that he wouldn’t need either. Sewing the shirt and talking with Ethel in the saloon had really helped him feel more like his old self.
So, he had survived losing himself for a second time, he supposed. And now, he could only pray that he’d manage to hold onto that sense of self going forward.
After procuring two heaping bowls of pork and sauerkraut stew, James returned to the stateroom, excitement bubbling inside him.
He couldn’t wait to serve Cassian the soup.
Couldn’t wait to feed him and kiss him and thank him for every bit of care that he’d received since coming on board the Carpathia.
Balancing one of the bowls on his forearm to free his hand, James opened the door. He found Cassian sitting on the edge of the bed, thumbing through a book that he must have borrowed from someone. As soon Cassian looked up and saw him, his eyes brightened.
“Finished sewing?” he asked.
James nodded. He shut the door with his foot and then reached behind his back to lock it. Taking the bowl off of his forearm, he started over to Cassian with them both. Cassian reached out to take one. James smiled at him.
“Are you . . . feeling a little better now?” Cassian asked, his words wobbling.
Affection bloomed in James’s chest. He set his bowl of soup aside and took Cassian’s back from him to set it on the nightstand, too. Afterward, he grabbed Cassian’s hands and squeezed them.
“I’m feeling much better,” he said.
Cassian shut his eyes and exhaled.
“Oh, thank God.”
Chuckling warmly, James climbed on top of Cassian’s lap, straddling him.
“I’m so sorry, Cassian,” he said softly. “I knew that I shouldn’t be letting myself sleep for so long, but I liked not being able to feel anything for a while.” He and Cassian exchanged a soft kiss. “I shouldn’t have worried you like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Cassian said. He blinked rapidly, clearly trying to hold back tears, but then began to cry a little anyway. “It was very thoughtless of you,” Cassian chastised through a barely contained sob.
Smiling fondly, James took Cassian’s face in his hands, exactly as Cassian had done so many times for him, and wiped away the tears with his thumbs.
“I know it was,” James said sweetly before making his tone playful. “I’m an exceptionally selfish person, aren’t I?”
Cassian let out a little snort-laugh-sob.
“Don’t make fun of me, James,” he scolded while crying a little more.
“I had to care for you for that whole length of time. I needed to feed you and check on you and comfort you and remind you to brush your teeth. And even though I was constantly worried, for your sake, I had to pretend that I wasn’t.
All you wanted to do was sleep. Or cry. Sometimes you even cried while you were sleeping, and I wasn’t the least bit prepared to know how to handle that.
” Cassian paused to sniffle. “It was very cruel of you to fall apart for so long.”
Laughing lightly, James nuzzled Cassian’s nose with his own.
“God, I love you,” James said. “You must be the most self-centered person in existence, and I will never tire of it.”
“How am I self-centered? Didn’t you hear what incredible lengths I went to in order to care for you over the past two days?”
James could only laugh in response. Cassian began to laugh too, through his tears.
“Stop laughing at me,” Cassian said. “I’m being serious.”
“I know you are,” James said. “And that’s exactly why it’s funny.”
Cassian’s laughter faded, and then he let out another little half sob.
“You’re so selfish,” he chided. “Making me fall in love with you and then forcing me to coddle you while you were on that medication. I had no idea whether I ought to let you keep having it, either. I hated feeling like I might not have been handling things correctly.”