Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Gossip

Whatever levity that Charles had been able to summon didn't last the next day. I had noticed a distinct silence towards us from the rest of the first class passengers, and actual hostility towards Will. Whether it was a glare or an actual insult whispered, I could see it stung. I was glad when another officer, Pitman, arrived to take Will up to the bridge area to discuss something with the other officers. It left me time to find Mother, wrapped in a blanket and staring out at the sea. The weather had turned as we drew close, rain slowing our progress towards New York. Two ships had come upon us though, in the early morning. I had no idea who they were exactly, but the bright white paint on both of them was the signature of the US Navy.

Mother looked out at them, the light giving her face a gray cast. "An escort, I suppose."

"Yes, I wonder why." I leaned back in my chair, watching the ships through the window. They were only slightly smaller than the Carpathia, but their four funnels, streaming black smoke behind them, spoke to much more powerful engines. The water surged around their bows, foam thrown up into the air. A bank of fog had rolled in overnight, and the ships stuck close to us as we all made our way slowly through the sea.

"We have probably made the front page." Her voice was flat, and she dropped her gaze. I sat with her for awhile, she didn't speak much but occasionally reached over to touch my hand or press her fingers against my hair. Some reassurance that I was still there. I merely watched the ocean, what I could see of it through the fog. It was rougher than it had been, nothing to endanger the ship but seeing some of the weaker stomachs that were onboard, I could easily imagine seasickness breaking out today. Other people were moving about, some coming in from outside or moving off to the lounge to find something to pass the time. I was content to sit next to Mother, almost falling asleep. The Carpathia rolled more than the Titanic, not much but enough to slowly rock, almost as if I was in a rocking chair. My eyes had fluttered shut when I heard it.

"Whore." A woman muttered as she walked by behind me, "Sleeping next to that murderer." By the time I had spun around, outrage boiling in me, the woman had vanished. But I could see the eyes of other passengers on me, and the whispering began. Hands covering mouths, sidelong glances, I felt like an outcast already. I watched as Samantha Reichster's eyes grew wide, her hands fluttering in mock distress as she pointed at me and began to talk to those near her. I hadn't had people gossip about me this much in a long time, since Zachary tried to pass off his attack as a rejected engagement, and being the center of attention for the gossipmongers was not something I enjoyed. I glared at them, almost ready to say something.

Mother gently grabbed my arm, "Anastasia, sit down. You will only draw more attention."

I stiffly lowered myself back into my chair, doing my best to keep my head straight and not notice them. "How can they say that? They don't even know what it's been like, he hasn't done anything. Mother, he's been perfectly respectful, I swear."

"You have been far too close to him, and some feel that he is to blame for the sinking." She talked to me like I was a child, "You must either accustom yourself to their disdain or leave him."

"They can go to Hell." I sniffed, glaring at the other women. Harpies, the lot of them. "He did all he could, I have no doubt about that."

"Perhaps you should sleep apart from him at least." Mother grimaced, "It might improve your language. Really Anastasia, I am worried. I know we have been through a trying time but you have been acting most improper with him, and you should be sleeping with the other women and leave him to sleep with the men. It's no wonder they've begun to talk the way you cling to him at night."

I bit my lip. "I can't bear the thought of sleeping next to them." I angrily jerked my head at the other women, trying to disguise the true reason. All I could think about was the nightmares, the constant grief gnawing at me that I barely managed to outrun despite my vow to not suffer from it. How at night, unless I had Will by me, I could not sleep. Not without the chance of screaming again, and I wasn't willing to risk that.