Chapter 32
The lounge had already started emptying by the time Will and his family reached it.
Groups of people lingered, complaining of not wanting to go out into the cold, while the stewards gave directions toward the promenade and the boat deck.
The stained glass windows were dark, but the ceiling electroliers and wall lamps remained, shining a tinge duller than usual, as if they wanted to give the guests a hint to stop milling about and go to sleep.
“Emmeline!” Will shouted, to a displeased look from a nearby lady, who threw a fur scarf over her shoulder and huffed away.
“Emmeline!” Tristan repeated after him.
“Excuse me.” Sylvia stopped the nearest steward. “Have you seen a young lady with dark hair, blue eyes, about this tall …”
The steward shook his head, as if unable to decide. “Probably, ma’am. Many have gone to the deck already. If you follow the directions, you’ll find her there, no doubt. Everyone is gathering at the boats.”
Sylvia looked at Will, and he nodded. Angry or not, Emmeline wasn’t stupid. By now, she’d have figured out something was wrong or run into someone who’d tell her what happened. She’d have followed the crew’s orders, knowing they would do the same, and they’d find each other at the evacuation point.
“If you will, ma’am,” the steward said, gesturing to the exit. Sylvia grabbed the boys and Will followed them up to the small lobby on the boat deck.
The mood outside was strangely calm, despite a deafening, whistling noise, like that of a train coming straight for them.
Will craned his neck, following the noise to a cloud of steam bursting through the pipes that led up the side of the funnels.
The funnels themselves produced almost no smoke; the ship had drawn to a halt.
“We are lowering the boats simply as a precaution,” one of the ship’s officers yelled a few feet away, trying to get his voice heard over the rushing of steam. “The rescue ship is but a few miles away. There is no reason to worry.”
Passengers were being organized into smaller groups, each led to a boat; they obediently and calmly followed orders, the biggest fuss being that one had forgotten a hat, and the other didn’t put on his best coat.
Sylvia shivered in the cold, wrapped her coat tighter around her, and held the boys close.
The boat nearest to them, right across the entrance, was being lowered already. Will made a few steps toward it, but an officer reached out an arm. “Wait for the next one, sir, please.”
“I need to see—my daughter might be on it.” He leaned past the officer, scanning over the passengers in the boat.
A few sailors, half a dozen men, and the rest women.
One held a little Pomeranian in her lap, and the dog let out a few tinny barks.
There couldn’t be more than thirty people in the boat; Will didn’t see Emmeline, and as he called for her, no one answered, either.
He returned to Sylvia and the boys. “She’s not there. Could be on another boat.”
“The other side?” Sylvia suggested.
“Yes. Let’s go check.” Emily’s warning rang again in his head, but in the calm of the evacuation, it was hard not to think they had more time.
The boats had barely begun lowering, and the ship still looked fine.
Ten more minutes. It’d be easier to find Emmeline on the deck, especially with everyone being organized so meticulously.
In ten more minutes, they’d surely run into her, and they could all board a boat together.
They returned through the lobby and exited on the port side. There were more people here, and an officer was helping a group of women board the first boat, swung over the side of the ship.
“Under no circumstances am I stepping on that,” a distinguished middle-aged lady, decked in her finest jewelry, said to the officer. “There’s at least an eighty-foot drop!”
“Ma’am, please. I assure you, it is completely safe.”
“Come, Mother.” Another woman, already in the boat, extended a hand to her. “You’re holding back the line.”
A younger female voice caught Will’s attention. There—a dark-haired girl, standing by the other boat, showing him her back. Didn’t Emmeline have a coat like that?
He sprung into action, pushing his way between the women lined up for boarding. “Emmeline!” He touched her shoulder, relief flooding his body.
She turned around, unfamiliar dark eyes looking up at him. She was a similar right age, but she wasn’t his daughter.
“Apologies,” he said, taking a step back.
“Y-yes,” she muttered, her gaze flickering between him and the officer organizing the passengers. “Have you seen my husband? Lucian? I don’t know where he’s gone.”
“I’m sorry,” he said and moved away as she redirected her attention to the officer.
Will returned to his family, shaking his head at Sylvia.
“She must be around,” she said. “She must be. Where else could she have gone?”
“Maybe she’s made her way up after us,” he said. “Let’s check the starboard side again.”
They crossed the lobby once more, Will stopping for a minute and also re-checking the downstairs and the lounge, which had been vacated by now.
The orchestra had begun playing by the stairs on the boat deck, the pianist striking a contrastingly cheerful tune, as if it was nothing but a post-dinner entertainment.
The melody might have been pleasant at any other time, but now it frayed Will’s nerves, each additional upbeat tone shooting another wave of anxiety into his stomach.
Where on Earth was Emmeline?
The pace had picked up by the time they returned to the starboard side.
Another boat had been lowered, and the remaining passengers, about thirty or so, were steadily boarding the third one.
Will scanned their surroundings. There was the emergency boat at the back, and the collapsibles Emily had mentioned were still on the roof, but the rest of the boats on this part of the deck were gone.
Something whistled over their heads, and a loud pop followed. Gasps from the crowd dissipated in the air as a flower of pale green sparks blossomed in the velvety night sky.
“Fireworks,” Tristan said, the sparks gleaming in his eyes.
Not fireworks. A rescue signal. Will’s stomach squeezed, and he glanced around, trying to surmise the mood of the crew.
Was there still a chance Emily had been wrong?
Was a rescue ship truly only miles away?
Perhaps the operator on the Californian had come back to the wireless and heard their signals.
Or were the officers downplaying the emergency in order not to scare the passengers?
“Ma’am, if you would.” An officer came to Sylvia, gesturing her towards the boat.
“But I haven’t yet found—”
“Please, ma’am.”
She looked at Will. “The boys,” he said, and she nodded, and they took Brendon and Tristan to the boat.
An officer helped them board, with Brendon going first and dusting off the wooden bench before he sat on it, back straight, his knees touching.
Tristan went next but turned to the deck as soon as he was in the boat. “Mama—”
“I’m coming, darling.” Sylvia took the officer’s offered hand and sat between Brendon and Tristan, wrapping her arms around them.
“Any more women? Children?” The officer shouted, looking around the deck. “Any more ladies to board?”
After no answer, he turned to Will with a nod. “You may go with them.”
Will turned to the boat but stopped. Another rocket whizzed overhead, lighting Sylvia’s eyes as she locked her gaze on him.
They didn’t need words. She knew what he meant, and he knew she understood.
His heart told him Emmeline was still here somewhere, that she hadn’t made it off on a boat.
And Sylvia knew he couldn’t leave their daughter behind, because she wouldn’t, either.
“Will,” she mouthed.
“I’ll find her.” He made a step back. “I promise. We’ll be right after you.”
“Papa!” Tristan lunged off the bench, but Sylvia caught him.
“It’s all right, darling,” she said. “Papa will be in the next boat.”
“Lower away!” The command was shouted from the side, and the boat lurched. Will made another step back to let the crewmen do their work; the boat swung, and the wires creaked as it began to lower down.
“Wait.” Sylvia rose and leaned on the side; Will rushed to her and cupped her face.
“I’ll be right back. I promise,” he said, staring into her eyes.
She didn’t say anything; she only sniffled and touched her forehead to his.
In the dark, frigid night, she was bright and warm, a safe haven.
The strings connecting their hearts pulled him to her, begged him to never let her go, a sneaking dread inside of him whispering—if you let her go now, you’ll never see her again.
“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth and kissed her.
“I love you, too,” she breathed. “Come back to me.” And she was torn away from him as the officer lowered her into the boat.
Will stayed on the edge of the deck, watching the boat descend toward the calm, dark surface of the water, reflecting the golden lights of the portholes.
Sylvia and the boys looked up, tears glistening in their eyes.
Please, don’t let it be the last time I see them.