The Titan Drowns: Time Travel Romance by Nhys Glover (you can read anyone .txt) 📖

‘Thank you, Marco, for what you have done,’ Petra said, pressing his arm tightly with her fingers. Then, as if realising what she’d done, she drew back and became flustered. At that moment, the man Marco knew as Luke came barrelling down the passageway toward them.

‘This kid just found me and told me Bart’s hurt. Where is he?’

‘Marco found him and brought him here. I sent for Karl because I was worried about internal injuries. He took a beating, if only a short one, thanks to Marco.’

Luke turned to him and nodded. ‘I’m grateful. If anything happened to that brat, I… What does Karl say?’ He seemed to be overwhelmed with emotion and was having a hard time fighting it down. It surprised Marco that this man would feel so deeply about a young cousin.

‘Is that you, Luke?’ Langman called out. ‘Do not panic, Bart is fine. A cracked rib and some bruised internal organs. He has lost a back tooth, too, which I think he swallowed, but he will be fine. A few more blows, though, and it might have been a different story.’

Karl came to the cabin doorway. ‘I’ll strap up his ribs and he will have to take it easy for a day or two.’

‘His work?’ Luke asked.

‘He can still talk and move around, just a little slower than his usual fast-forward. He can complete his mission.’ The young doctor turned back to his patient.

‘Mission?’ Marco asked in confusion.

‘Bart’s mission is having fun. That is what he meant.’ Luke covered admirably, but Marco was not convinced, especially as he caught the guilty look that passed across Petra’s face. However, he wasn’t about to ask any more questions, especially about the discrepancy of names. They all had more pressing matters on their minds.

‘I will go then. I hope Bart, or Micky, is well soon.’

‘Thanks… if you hadn’t been there,’ Luke said, obviously finding it difficult to offer gratitude.

‘I was just in the right place.’

‘No, you went out of your way to help. You may get in trouble for going into second class,’ Petra piped up.

‘I am glad I could help. Tell the boy to pick on someone his own size next time, sí?’

‘Not going to happen. Must have been protectin’ some kid. He wouldn’t fight, otherwise.’

‘Sí, he was. A ragazzo, a… a lad smaller than him. And the other three were a head taller. Bullies.’

‘Of course,’ Luke commented without emotion.

He started to walk away. Petra followed him. ‘Thank you, again. You do not know how grateful we are to you. Bart is important to us, very important.’

‘Please, no more. I did what anyone would do. I am glad I could be of service to you.’ He took her hand and kissed her fingers gently. When he looked up to meet her gaze, he was thrilled to see fire there. So, he was no longer the devil. His heart surged upward.

‘I finish at eleven tonight. Can you meet me on deck?’

‘I was told they made the women clear the decks by half-past-ten last night,’ she said.

‘Try. There is a sheltered spot at the end of the Poop Deck, quite near where we were this morning. I will be there. But if you do not come, I will understand.’

Marco left her there, her mouth moulded into a moue of indecision. He would have to hope that in the coming hours she would decide it was worth the risk to see him. He hurried back along the corridor to his own cabin and the nap he knew he was now too wound up to take.

Chapter Sixteen

Lizzie

The last day had been the most wonderful in her life. And it was all because of Karl, who had just raced away to assist a young man from third class he seemed to know. It was exciting to see him take charge that way, as if he was born to it or had been doing it for many years. And yet he was so young. No matter what he said about being older than he looked, she knew that he could not be more than in his mid-twenties – too young to wield such authority.

She compared the man who had just left with the youth who had kissed her on the deck yesterday afternoon. They were worlds apart. That Karl had been unsure of himself, overcome by emotions he did not know how to handle. The kiss had sizzled right down to her toes, but not because it was confident or skilled.

In her younger years before her parent’s death, she had been kissed aplenty by boys in her town and at college. Those kisses had been sweet and ranged from amateur to highly skilled. On the other hand, the kisses Peabody had forced on her had been anything but sweet. She shuddered at that memory and forced it away.

Karl’s kiss had been inexperienced but overwhelming. It had threatened to send her over some unknown cliff edge into a place that felt both unsafe yet enticing. However, the deeper into that kiss she’d gone, the more insistent the memory of Peabody became, until she’d recoiled from Karl as if he were that other man.

And she’d hurt her new friend, more than he would admit.

For the rest of the evening, he’d been on his best behaviour, shepherding her around and taking her to dinner. They’d even walked along the Boat Deck as the sun set over the Channel and the Titanic slipped slowly into Cherbourg to begin the process of unloading and reloading passengers and cargo once more. It had been so romantic standing up there with him warmly pressed against her side, the sun a golden ball sinking into the molten sea in front of them. Yet he made no move to repeat his embrace or kiss. It was as if her rejection had forced him down another track in their budding relationship; a track that she didn’t want.

What did she want? Love and marriage? How could she even think of it with another man’s illegitimate child inside her? He’d be repulsed if she were to tell Karl what really happened. He’d blame her or, at the very least, see her as defiled. Even so, if she didn’t tell him how could she enter into an honest relationship with him with such a lie between them? He deserved better than that. He deserved better than her.

Earlier that morning when she was trying to sort out her worries in her mind, she had gone to the library on C Deck to sit quietly over a book. While she was there, she’d met two young American women called Felicity Carmichael and Rose Travers. They were married ladies who, it transpired, were also with child. But unlike her, they each had a loving husband who was the father of their soon-to-be offspring.

They had shared a happy hour chatting in the library until a disgruntled reader lost patience with them and asked them to be quiet. The girls had taken their leave then so Lizzie could continue her reading, and she had hopes of meeting up with them again. It was amazing how many women she had met who shared her condition. Of course, in terms of the number of people on the ship, there was probably nothing abnormal in it. Nevertheless, to her it felt like she was drawing pregnant women to her like flies.

Over lunch, she had mentioned the women to Karl and he had seemed interested to meet them. For some reason, he was fascinated by motherhood. She wondered if her condition was the only thing he found interesting about her. But no, that would be selling him short and that was unfair. Karl liked her, she was sure of that. And he genuinely seemed to enjoy her company, pregnant or not.

Gertie, or Trudy as she preferred to be called, had been at each of their meals, and the more Lizzie saw of her husband, the more she disliked him. Trudy seemed to be a pleasant young woman who deserved better than that overbearing bully of a man. Unfortunately, unless Karl had some mysterious way to lure her away from the oaf, she could see no other future for the girl.

Now, too restless to relax, although she was exhausted from her sleepless night with her snoring and complaining roommate, she had gone back up to the library in search of a quiet place to sit. She had barely seated herself when Karl came into the room, his eyes searching the space until they found her. Once he'd caught sight of her, he beamed and hurried over.

However, before they had a chance to greet each other, the American women, dressed in pale summery dresses, also entered the library and came toward her. It seemed the perfect opportunity to introduce them all.

‘Mrs Jones,’ called Felicity, the younger of the two women. ‘We were looking for you and hoping to convince you to join us for tea.’

Lizzie smiled her pleasure as she rose slowly from her place and took Karl’s arm. She led him the short distance to meet her two new friends.

‘I would love to, as long as you would welcome my friend, Mr Langman, too. Karl, this is Mrs Carmichael and Mrs Travers. They are both returning to America for their laying-in because their husbands think it safer. Ladies, Mr Langman is a doctor who has just now been down to assist a young boy who was beaten badly by bullies. How is the boy, Karl?’

The two women were instantly interested and concerned.

‘Oh, Bart is a bantam rooster. He is down, but he is by no means out. A cracked rib, missing tooth and some bruised internal organs.’

‘Oh, the poor lad. How old is he?’ asked Rose, the short, plump one.

‘He is nearly eleven but small for his age. He has a penchant for taking on opponents twice his size. Usually he wins. Unfortunately, that was not the case this time, as his opponent had two assistants who held Bart while he did his worst. If one of the waiters from the first class restaurant had not been passing and put a stop to it, it would have been far worse.’

‘I wouldn’t have expected that kind of to-do in second class,' Felicity commented frowning.

‘It was in third, actually.’

‘You went down into third? But that is not done, is it? I was told that if we passed into third for any reason, we would have to undergo a thorough health inspection once we arrived home. They can carry diseases you know.’ Felicity's frown increased. She was the tall thin one with metal-framed glasses that sat on the end of her freckled nose.

‘Disease, if it were on board, would know no class barriers, I do assure you, ladies.’

‘How do you know the lad?’ Lizzie asked. ‘When the waiter told you his name you were quite concerned.’

‘He is the son of a friend of mine.’

‘You have friends in third class?’ Rose asked in surprise.

‘You have spent too much time in Europe, dear lady. In the Americas, there is supposed to be only equality for all.’ There was a note of censure in his voice.

Lizzie looked at Karl in surprised agreement. Not that she’d ever thought about it much, but she had heard America was free of such artificial divisions and been glad of it.

‘You are right, of course, sir. But there is a natural division between men, is there not? You are a