Chapter 5
Emmeline spent the better part of Sunday chained to her mother’s side.
Through breakfast, hymn singing in the dining saloon, and an afternoon in the lounge, Mother kept her close at all times, with a touch on the shoulder, arm, or back here and there, as if wanting to make sure Emmeline hadn’t conjured up an illusion of herself and run away.
After a cup of tea and three rounds of bridge, Emmeline’s mind began to wander.
She leaned back in her plush green-and-gold armchair and gazed out the window.
The lounge, with its high ceiling, opulent oak and gold-embellished paneled walls, and stained-glass bay windows, looked more like a room in the Versailles palace than one on a ship.
But the coals in the marble-topped fireplace were only a smokescreen for the electric heater, and if Emmeline closed her eyes and focused on the floor beneath, like Leon had instructed her when they played shuffleboard, she could feel the ever-so-slight sway.
When she opened her eyes again, a figure was standing outside one of the windows.
This wasn’t too strange. They overlooked the promenade, and people walked by all the time. But this one wasn’t moving, and even though the stained glass blocked Emmeline from seeing the person clearly, she couldn’t help but think of Leon.
It’s probably a man stopping for a smoke. Emmeline shook her head and tried to get back to the game. When she glanced up half a minute later, the figure was still there, at the next window down.
Emmeline stood.
“Darling,” Mother said in a clear “you’re not supposed to move more than a foot away from me” tone.
“I need to go to the restroom,” Emmeline said. “Or must I be accompanied there, as well?”
Mother pursed her lips. “Very well. Fifteen minutes, and not a second over.”
“Understood.” Emmeline turned to the exit, trying to look calm as her feet urged her to run. She walked down the hallway, picking up pace as she put the lounge further behind her, and rushed through the revolving door, past the grand staircase, and out onto the promenade.
The bright, sunny day, paired with an ocean as smooth as glass, had brought many passengers to the deck, either strolling or lounging on deck chairs with blankets.
Emmeline scanned from head to head. A mother, calmly instructing her two children not to run on the deck.
A young pair on a walk, the lady twirling her parasol.
An older gentleman helping his grandson put his small feet on the first rung of the railing to get a better view of the ocean.
All so happy, so carefree. She couldn’t help but feel envious of them.
“Emmeline!”
She turned at the call, her panic subsiding as she matched the voice to Leon’s tall figure. Clutching her book, he stopped a few feet away.
“I’ve been looking for you all day,” he said. “I read the book.”
Emmeline glanced at the lounge windows. If she hadn’t been able to see out clearly, then her mother wouldn’t, either, but they still weren’t safe here.
They weren’t safe in any public space, so what remained?
A cabin? The third class cabins were far down in the bow; Mother would began to worry before they even reached it.
But hers was on this deck, only a hallway and a few doors away.
“Come.” She took his hand and led him to her room.
He didn’t object, but he did pause as she opened the door and gestured him inside.
“These are your private quarters.” He shifted on his feet. “I couldn’t.”
“It’s the only place where they won’t see us. Please.” She nudged her head, and he finally entered.
Her cabin was a small but cozy space with a blue carpet and white-painted walls. A single bed was nestled along the far wall, while a marble-topped sink with a mirror cabinet and an upholstered sofa in a crimson net pattern took the walls across from each other.
Leon handed her the book, and she took it to the small trunk on her writing desk, packed with the rest of her collection. Leon cleared his throat and sat on the sofa, hands clasped in front.
“It’s all right,” she said. “It’s just my cabin. You can relax. Did you like the book?”
“Very much,” he said, tension seeping from his shoulders. “I found Neverland to be an interesting concept. Exciting on the surface, but brimming with traps beneath.”
“I loved it. Don’t you think you’d enjoy visiting?”
“Oh, no, it has its merits. Everyone needs a bit of Neverland in their life. But it’s not perfect, and eventually, you must return to reality.”
“Or you could keep reading and find new worlds.” She picked up a few books and sat next to him.
“I’ve read this one recently. The Phantom of the Opera.
Strange, but interesting. Not quite romance, and not quite horror.
My aunt and I are split on which male hero to support; perhaps you can settle the score.
” She put the book between them on the sofa.
“Oh, and these! They’re from my favorite author, Miranda Stormcliffe.
Romance and mystery and tortured heroes with complicated pasts—I have all of her books, and I’m only sad I can never get more. ”
“Why not?”
“She lived in the eighteenth century. So what I have is what I get. Would you like to borrow …” She sighed, looking at the floor. Borrow until when?
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You look worried.”
Her eyes stung. “We have so little of the travel left, and afterward, I can never see you again. And I wish I could. You’ve been—well, I had great fun in your company, which I’m sure I wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
“Me, too,” he said.
“But my parents don’t approve.”
“I see.” He cast his eyes downwards. “Did I do something wrong? Perhaps I should approach them—”
“No!” She grabbed his hand. “It’s not your fault. It’s them. But you must know …” She tilted her head until he raised his eyes again. “I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and I’ll always appreciate it. I’ll always …”
She trailed off, her eyes lowering to his mouth. This isn’t fair. This wasn’t how the stories ended, not even those with a tragic end. Perhaps the heroes would perish together, but they’d at least get their catharsis. There would be something, not just a pathetic “Alas, this is it, goodbye.”
“Emmeline.” Leon lifted her chin with a feather-light touch and drew his eyebrows together. “I need to tell you something, but I don’t know in what manner to broach the subject—”
The cabin door burst open, almost flying off the handles, as Father’s tall, dark shape filled the doorway. Emmeline and Leon jumped apart, propelled off the sofa.
Father’s narrowed eyes inspected Leon, his jaw twitching. “Out,” he said through clenched teeth.
Leon cast a quick glance at Emmeline—perhaps asking permission to intervene—but she was too shocked to respond.
“Out, now,” Father repeated, and without a word, Leon left.
Father closed the door and made a step into a cabin. “In your own room, Emmeline? Are you out of your mind?”
“We were talking about books!”
“And I suppose that’s why he needs to touch you?”
She huffed, pacing in a circle before she faced him again. “What’s wrong with you?”
“With me? I’m trying to keep you safe.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Prevent you from making a mistake, from having your heart broken by some random stranger.”
“Leon is not a stranger!”
“Isn’t he? What do you know of him, of his character? I’ve asked. Nobody else has heard of him.”
“He’s here alone. So excuse him, if he hasn’t made friends with all two thousand people on the ship, so they could vouch for him!”
“And where is he from? Why is he going to the States, and what are his intentions there?”
“Perhaps if you hadn’t dismissed him outright, he could’ve explained that to you.”
“And perhaps if he had considered that from the start, instead of sneaking around with you—”
“He didn’t! I sought him out!”
Father’s eyes widened. “So it’s even worse.”
“Why, because a lady doesn’t seek out male company?”
“Because you don’t know what could happen!”
“And I guess I never will! Why do you even take me on travels with you, send me to school? Why do I need to know anything about the world, if you won’t let me live in it?”
“We’re trying to help you make the right choices.”
“You’re not letting me make any!”
He shook his head. “When you’re older, and have children of your own, you’ll understand.”
“Well, that’s not happening, is it?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “Not when you keep me in a gilded cage. Unless, of course, you want to pick the suitor for me? I’m sure you know best, and it doesn’t matter what I think, anyway.”
Father looked to the side, blinking. “Is that what you think of me? And your mother?”
“What else do you assume your actions make me think?”
“That we love you and want you to be happy. We only want to help.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Maybe you want to help Brendon and Tristan, because they’re your perfect little sons, but you’re not trying to help me, and you certainly don’t love me!”
He lifted his chin, swallowing hard. “I wish you’d understand.”
“And I wish I wasn’t a part of this family and never had to see you again!”
His hands twitched. “You may get that wish for the rest of the travel, at least.” He took her cabin key from the desk and left without another word, the door clicking after him.
After a moment of shock, anger fueled Emmeline to run to the door, but the doorknob wouldn’t give. She tried again, and again—but no, the door wasn’t stuck.
Her father had locked her in.
***