Voyage in Time: The Titanic (Out of Time #9) (12 page)

She shrugged. “It wouldn’t do any good and probably just make things worse.”

“Worse?”

“For Louise. Emily.”

Simon clearly hadn’t thought of that, his eyebrows went up in surprise then drew together in anger. Sheridan was exactly the sort of man to take out his frustrations on them. Simon’s jaw, which must have been close to cramping from all of the clenching it did during lunch, started up again.

Elizabeth squeezed his arm. “I know. Believe me, I know. I’ll talk to Louise later, see if there’s anything we
can
do.”

Simon pushed out a breath. “How could a man treat his child that way? As nothing more than a nuisance?”

Elizabeth shook her head. She couldn’t fathom it either. But it wasn’t the way he treated Emily that haunted her thoughts. It was the mere fact that she was
here
.
 

“I didn’t think about the children,” she said.
 

Simon looked at her in confusion.
 

“When we first decided to come on board, I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t think about …”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. “It is difficult,” he said in classic Simony understatement.

It was unsettling enough to know that most of the men and women around them would die in four days, but the children? Children like Emily, maybe even Emily. That wasn’t just hard to accept, it was nearly impossible.

Simon put his arm around her. He started to say something but cleared his throat first. When he did speak his voice was thick. “I know.”

He held her for a moment before easing away. “But we can’t focus on that. We have to focus on what we’re here to do, who we
can
help.”

She knew he was right. Every trip back in time was filled with people who were no longer living. But …

 
“You’re right,” she said and shook off his concerned look. “You are. It just sort of hit me all of a sudden.”

“And it probably will again,” he said, “and again, before we see this through.”

They walked over to the railing just as the last tender was pulling away and heading back for the shore.
 

“It’s the same every time we go back, isn’t it?” he said, echoing her thoughts. “In San Francisco, the earthquake was coming. Disaster looming.”

The engines whirred beneath them as the great ship got underway again. Through the haze, she could just make out Ireland and knew it would be the last land they would see before the end.
 

“But this is different,” she said.

The rugged shore drifted past as the ship moved along the coast. In a few hours, it would turn out to the open sea.

“Yes,” Simon said. “It is.”

~~~

They stood at the railing watching the shore in the distance until the wind picked up and the temperature started to fall.
 

“Should we find Niels?” Simon asked.

Elizabeth agreed and they started their circle of the Boat Deck in search of him. He had the habit of walking as he thought and circuits of the top deck were his new favorite occupation.

They’d nearly reached the end of the First Class promenade when a gust of wind came and Elizabeth nearly lost her hat.
 

“Maybe we should go inside?” Simon offered.

“I got it.”

She clamped the broad-brimmed hat down on her head with one hand and tried to reposition the hat pin with the other, hopefully without giving herself a lobotomy.

She poked it through the fabric once and then again. That should do it.

She let go and it stayed. “See?”

Just then another strong gust came and it flew off.

Simon watched it float away in the wind. “Yes.”

Of all the hats she’d brought, that was her favorite. The wind suddenly died and it fell to the deck.

“Come on,” she said and gathered up her skirts to give chase.

The wind caught it again and it floated away. Then, just as suddenly, it dropped down again to the deck and danced along. It nearly struck a strolling couple but slipped between them. The woman shrieked as it rolled past.

“Sorry,” Elizabeth said as she chased after it.
 

Simon came to her side. “Elizabeth.”

“There it goes.”
 

The hat flipped along and then tumbled down the stairs to the Second Class promenade below. She hurried after it, as quickly as her dress and the stairs would allow.

“For God’s sake, be careful.”

When she reached the deck she saw that the hat had gotten hung up in a piece of rigging. If it would just stay stuck ….

She nearly got to it when another gust came and sent it toward the railing, but just before it went overboard a hand snatched it from the air.

Edmund, the man who’d saved her from falling down the stairs.

He looked at the hat curiously then smiled as he saw her approach.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said.

“Again?” Simon asked.

“Nice catch,” she said.

His grin broadened but then vanished as he saw two stewards climbing down the stairs.
 

“Sorry again,” he said and shoved her hat toward her.

He took off toward the door to the lower decks, but another steward was just emerging there. He was caught and he knew it. He held up his hands in front of him.

“All right,” one of the stewards says. “Let’s see your papers.”

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked.

“Stowaway.”

From the look on Edmund’s face, it was true.

The higher ranking steward ordered one of the others to take him down to the hold. Instantly, Elizabeth had visions of him locked up in a tiny room far below deck. It would be a death sentence.
 

“Edmund?”

“You know this man?” the steward asked.

Elizabeth hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course I do. Cousin Edmund, have you been toying with these men?”

Edmund looked at her in confusion then slowly nodded. “Yes?”

She put her hand on the steward’s arm. “I’m sorry. He thinks he’s being funny. But he’s not.”

The steward was confused and so was Edmund, but the light was dawning. “I’m sorry … Cousin Elizabeth.”

She smiled kindly at him and then leaned in to speak conspiratorially with the steward. “His mother wasn’t right.” She flashed her eyes and wound her finger in circles around her temple.
 

Edmund nearly laughed, but managed not to.

The steward nodded but looked to Simon for confirmation because, of course, a man’s word mattered more than hers.
 

“Do you know this man?”

Elizabeth stared at Simon, willing him to play along. He eyed her and then Edmund before turning to the steward. “I’m afraid I do. Cousin Edmund, what have you been up to?”

Edmund looked like he was having trouble believing just what was happening. “I was just joking. Playing a game.”

Elizabeth jumped in. “He didn’t mean any harm. We’ll pay for any damages.”

Simon frowned but nodded. “Yes. Of course. Sir Simon Cross, B-51.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if the steward believed them or not, but it was clear from the way he stood a little straighter at either Simon’s name or the suite number that he was in no position to argue with a First Class passenger. “He’s with you, sir?”

Elizabeth begged Simon silently. He sighed and nodded. “He is.”
 

The steward ordered his men to release Edmund and then approached Simon and said in a hushed voice, “You’ll make sure, sir, that he doesn’t do anything like this again?”

Simon glared at Edmund. “Rest assured, we shall be having a long talk.”

Edmund swallowed hard.
 

The steward bowed slightly and then he and the others took their leave.
 

Simon narrowed his eyes at Edmund.

“I want to thank—” Edmund said, but Simon held up his hand to silence him.
 

He looked around. “I think we should discuss this in our rooms, don’t you, darling?”

Elizabeth grimaced but nodded. Usually his ‘darling’ was one of deep and unconscious affection, but occasionally, like now, it was laced with impatience and a little anger.

He turned to Edmund and gave him one last glare. “Cousin.” Then he turned on his heel and headed for the stairs.

Edmund whistled under his breath.

Elizabeth waved for him to hurry up and come with them. Still clearly unsure, but realizing it was better than the alternative, Edmund caught up with them and the three walked in silence to their suite.

Simon unlocked the door and let them precede him inside. He tossed the key onto the desk and then turned to Edmund, fists on hips.
 

“So tell me, who the bloody hell are you?”

T
HE
YOUNG
MAN
LOOKED
uneasily over at Elizabeth, unsure how to respond to Simon’s question.

“Edmund Barrow?” he said.

“Yes, I think we’ve established that. Elizabeth?”

Simon turned to his wife who smiled at him with her most disarming smile, but Simon was having none of it. He was quite content to remain well-armed for now.

“Simon—”

He glared at her.

“It’s not her fault,” Edmund said.

“I doubt that,” Simon muttered. “How is it you two know each other exactly?”

“It’s a funny story,” Elizabeth said.

Simon knew that anything Elizabeth said that started with that phrase was not going to amuse him.

“We bumped into each other on deck,” she said and shared a smile with Edmund. Realizing that if she was trying to diffuse Simon’s anger, that was hardly the best course, she added hastily, “and he saved my life.”

Simon’s heart stuttered. “He what?”

“That’s maybe overstating it a little,” Edmund said.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’d be dead, or maimed.”
 

“Maimed? That sounds painful.”

“Eating through a straw for the rest of my life,” Elizabeth said.

Edmund frowned and shook his head. “That would be terrible.”

“Wouldn’t it?”

Simon looked up at the ceiling for strength. “For the love of God, would someone please tell me what on earth you two are talking about?”

“I nearly fell down the stairs,” Elizabeth said, “you know, the ones that lead from the First Class promenade down to second?”

Simon closed his eyes as he saw that play out in his mind’s eye.

“But I didn’t. Edmund saved me.”

“Did you?” Simon asked him.

Edmund nodded, but he didn’t seem as proud of it as he should be, forcing Simon to ask, “But?”

“Technically, I’m the reason she nearly fell down the stairs in the first place.”

Simon shook his head to try to make sense of this bizarre conversation. “Technically?”

The young man winced and nodded. “Yeah.”

“But don’t forget the saving part,” Elizabeth added. “And my hat, too!” She held it up for emphasis.

Simon let out a long breath and looked sternly at the young man. “I think you’d better start from the beginning.”

“Simon—”

“Without assistance from the peanut gallery.”

The young man nodded. “I was running from a couple of deck stewards. I’d stolen some food.”

Simon glared over at Elizabeth, who managed to stay silent.

“I didn’t think anybody would miss it,” he continued. “There was so much. Anyway, they caught me and I ran for it and that’s when I bumped into your wife.”

“Bumped into her? Nearly knocked her down the stairs? Technically?” Simon asked, not hiding his displeasure.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” He looked at them both in turn before continuing. “And then I caught her before she fell.”

Simon frowned and turned to Elizabeth. “Why on earth didn’t you tell me any of this?”

All she could do was shrug and offer a weak smile.

He’d deal with her in a moment; right now, he still needed to clarify a few things with the boy.

“So, you stole some food, but you’re not a stowaway?”
 

“Oh no, sir, I am.”

That was not the answer Simon had been expecting, nor in such a matter of fact way.

“You are?”

“I couldn’t find any other way to get to America.”

“Like paying for passage?” Simon asked.

Edmund looked around the room and said carefully, “Not everyone can afford to, sir.”

That took some of the wind out of Simon’s sails, but he wasn’t going to let him off that easily, especially now that they were saddled with him for the duration. What on earth was she thinking?

He glared at Elizabeth, letting his anger build again. “May I speak with you privately?”

She nodded and gave Edmund an encouraging smile. “Make yourself at home.”

He nodded, a little unsure, and started to sit. One look from Simon froze him in mid-squat. He stood back up and focused on the cap in his hands.

Simon opened the door to the bedroom and saw Elizabeth wave for Edmund to sit. The boy showed good sense though, and shook off her suggestion and remained standing.

Simon closed the door to the bedroom behind them.
 

“I don’t even know where to begin,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me about all this?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I can’t imagine why I would,” he said and stalked over to the far side of the room. “You’re on ship for less than a day and you’re nearly killed by a perfect stranger—”

“It was an accident.”

“Need I remind you that someone tried to stab you at the train station yesterday. Not all accidents are accidents.”

She didn’t have a comeback for that, but it didn’t deter her.

 
“That’s true, but technically—”

“Yes,
technically
he saved your life,” he said with more anger than he’d meant. He sighed. “For that I am grateful.”

He walked over to her. “You should have told me.”

She actually looked chastened this time. “You’re right, I should have. I’m sorry.”

He believed she was, but that didn’t change the mess they were in now.

“But what about the rest of it? Cousin Edmund?”