Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

A Happy Occasion

I donned my traveling suit again for our arrival, enduring yet another lecture from Will about the dangers of an over-tightened corset. He seemed to have endless opinions on it, wrangling a promise from me to purchase some of the new fangled brassieres the next time I ordered lingerie. I had glanced back at him in the mirror, "Should I be curious about why you know about brassieres? They've only been around for a couple years."

"Well," He grumbled, ducking his head. "Sisters, nieces, things like that. I hear things."

"Mmmm, and you definitely haven't looked at women's magazines, or talked about it with your friends over a pint." I chuckled, seeing his red face. In the end I had wrapped my arms around him, drawing his attention with little kisses. "It's fine, I'll put in an order for some. Along with a top hat for you."

"Foolish things. My bowler suits me fine, I will have you know." He had in fact collected said bowler from the bed, handing me my forget-me-not hat as well. The rest of our bags had been sent down to join our trunks, to be unloaded and delivered to the dock house.

I pinned the hat to my hair, "And here I thought you thought your Reserves hat was foolish."

"It is the most foolish item I own." Will held out his arm for me, and we made our way up the Boat Deck. It was a beautiful summer day in New York harbor, with the Statue of Liberty keeping sentinel over the rowboats and yachts that were out plying the waters, white sails billowing up and catching any bit of breeze. I had no doubt I knew some of the people on those yachts, and that they were relaxing and drinking chilled wine while their staff did the business of sailing. He watched as a yacht nimbly crested the slight wake of the Oceanic as the tugs directed us towards the docks. "That sailor knows his stuff, that was well done."

"More like his hired hands do," I squeezed his hand, "You'll be the one with the most actual experience up in Newport."

Will looked down at me, "Surely some of them have actually sailed."

"Oh, I have no doubt. But none of them went to sea as young as you did." I shifted, looking out as we approached the dock. The sailors waiting for us had us tied up and the gangplanks extended quickly, and we joined the crowd jostling down them. I couldn't help the smile on my face as we wound through the crowd, searching for our carriage out of the many other carriages, autos, trucks and wagons waiting to take passengers and cargo away. I finally spotted it, a fair distance from the dock. I waved, catching the coachman's notice. "Here!"

He had already jumped down, opening the door. "Miss Anastasia, Mr. Murdoch, welcome back!"

Will disregarded the other bench, sitting next to me and quickly pulling me tight against him. "And are you happy to be back, Miss Anastasia?"

"Of course, Mr. Murdoch." I chuckled, kissing his cheek. "I'm so happy to be back, with you." All it took was a quick whistle, a snap of the reins, and the carriage was pulling out into the streets. The sun hadn't gotten intense enough to drive the crowds from the streets yet, so we had to negotiate our way through. It only gave me more time to point out places to Will, shops and restaurants that we needed to go visit, the houses of some of the richer families we knew. But it took time for the place I was most excited to return to reared up, seven stories of brick and glass that represented all that I loved.

Well, aside from the man at my side.

"Miss Anastasia, oh we're all so happy for you." Peggy was practically waiting on the doorstep, enveloping me in am embrace as soon as I had set foot inside. She turned to Will in a flurry of starched white apron, "And you as well Mr. Murdoch. Your mother is in the parlor, Miss."

She practically hustled us into the parlor, the curtains pulled back and sunlight streaming through. Mother was sat in the rocking chair by the empty fireplace, her hand occupied with her sewing. She looked healthy, full of color and actually smiling. The only thing dark about her was her clothing, still black for her mourning. She looked up as we entered though, the quilt block forgotten as she rushed forward and pulled me into her arms. "Oh my dear Anastasia, my dear girl." She stepped back, bringing her hands up to cup my face. "You look so much better, it's truly a marvel." Her hands moved down from my face, tracing my shoulders before coming to my hands. They pulled them up, displaying my ring. "And this is lovely, really Mr. Murdoch, you have wonderful taste."