Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

An Incident

After lunch Mother retired to the reading room while I set off again for the officer's mess. This situation needed to be handled quickly. The engines were running smoothly, the ship pulling away from Ireland at a fast clip. So much so that whatever breeze there was was offset by the wind of our passage. Fortunately it was blowing towards me, so i was spared the ignominy of having to pull my hair away from my face. I approached the officer's mess, glancing through the window. It was only Will, more than likely he had just gotten off his watch and was helping himself to some much needed food.

I strode in, closing the door firmly behind me and reaching over to draw the shade. I then sat across from him, his eyes bulging. I kept myself composed, holding onto some resolve deep down. "We need to talk."

"Miss Dalian, this is not the place." He set his fork down. "Nor the time."

"I needed a private place." I set my jaw, drawing in a firm breath. "I am going to tell you what happened that night and why you are nothing like that man."

"You do not need to."

"I do Mr. Murdoch, and you will listen." I drew in another breath, trying to calm the inevitable quiver in my voice. "It was three years ago, at a party for some opera or some other artistic endeavor. I will admit to having drunk too much champagne, and I thought Zachary Reichster to be nothing more than an annoying acquaintance, but not a threat. So when he offered me a cigarette, which I had never had before, I followed him to a hallway. It would be a fun story to share, an illicit smoke while the debutantes batted their eyes." I could feel the damn wrenching in my chest, my voice warbling. "He then attempted to draw me further on, to a bedroom, his hands going ... everywhere. It was only by grabbing a candelabra and striking him with it I was able to escape. I ran to my parents, and have done my best to avoid the cad but he inevitably rears his ugly head."

"Damn it," I muttered as I could feel tears pricking at my eyes, "I always do this."

There was a scraping against the floor as Will pushed his chair away, coming to sit beside me. I felt his hand on my back, rubbing it gently. "You don't have to say anymore."

I sniffed, trying to force the tears away. "No, I do. You have been kind to me and I do not want you to think in anyway you are like him. What you did was nothing like that." I quickly pulled out the handkerchief, wrapping it around my fingers. "I had intended to give this to you, a peace offering, but would you mind if I used it?"

"No, here," He took it from my hands, gently wiping at whatever tears had escaped. "That was a great cruelty that man did to you."

"Yes."

We sat in silence, him folding the handkerchief up and putting it in a pocket. "How old were you?"

"Twenty-two."

"So that would make you twenty-five now."

"Yes, and you?"

"Thirty-nine."

"Married?"

"Once, she passed four years ago. Cholera."

I saw his eyes begin to tear. I placed a hand on his arm, squeezing it. "I'm sorry."

"I try not to think about it much."

I struggled to find something to say. "I imagine distraction from your thoughts is rather easy here." I reached over to grasp his hand, finally free of his gloves. "So many things to attend to."

Will wrapped his fingers around mine, the skin rough even after the protection of his gloves. "Yes, there is much distraction with a ship of this size." He pointed towards the clock on the wall. "I have to set those clocks every morning."