An Unsinkable Love(40)
Bree didn't hesitate, leaning into Elizabeth's embrace.
Elizabeth whispered into her ear, "Buying clothes for you is eminently more enjoyable than buying them for Malcolm.
Black and gray suits are so boring."
Bree stepped back, laughing. "I thank you very much for your generosity." Then she picked up a box. "Now, what should I wear?"
* * * *
Malcolm wandered over to the window and leaned on the frame. He watched, enjoying the lighthearted banter between the two so-different women. Elizabeth helped Bree select an outfit, then shooed him from the room.
He paced the hallways, never out of sight of the door, and was only a step away when it opened and Bree came out. She looked like the well-bred woman he'd first met on the ship, 137
An Unsinkable Love
by Terri Benson
clothed in a dusky green suit that set her hair off to perfection. It fit well, but not quite as well as the gray outfit had. Her hair was pulled back from her face with green jade combs and her tiny feet were shod in fashionable pointy-toed lace-up boots.
"Excuse me, miss, have you seen a half-drowned girl? I left her in this room, but now she's gone."
Bree chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment, whether you meant it or not."
He bowed and followed her back into the room. Elizabeth sorted packages into an orderly stack. She linked elbows with Bree and gave him an inquiring stare.
"Well, since I've been relegated to pack horse, I suggest we be on our way." He enjoyed bringing up the rear of the procession. It gave him the opportunity to watch Bree's gently swaying hips. The swishing fabric had a mesmerizing effect and he nearly tripped over the top step as they exited the building. A big seven-passenger Oldsmobile touring car waited outside. With only the three of them and minimal luggage, the car felt immense. The driver, clad in a black suit with cap pulled low over his brow, stowed their bags in the boot and helped Elizabeth into the middle seat. Malcolm opened the other door for Bree, and watched as she settled into the thickly tufted leather bench beside his mother. He climbed into the front seat next to the chauffer. Before the driver merged into traffic, Malcolm asked him to take a short detour to the pier.
As they pulled up along the waterfront, redolent with the scents of day-old fish and diesel oil, he pointed. "The 138
An Unsinkable Love
by Terri Benson
Carpathia. If not for her, none of us would be here." The three of them stared up at the cargo ship, which sported four huge derricks and a single large stack, for several moments, each deep in their own thoughts.
Bree looked at Elizabeth. Her face was drawn and pale.
They clasped hands and shared a moment of silence.
The driver cleared his throat loudly. "If we don't get a move on you'll miss your train, folks."
Malcolm nodded and they turned away from the pier.
Traffic was heavy and it took nearly a half hour to get back to Greenwich Village and Penn Station. It was time to go home.
* * * *
Eldon sat in a corner trying to ignore the unwashed masses bustling around the huge terminal. He hated traveling by train. There were too many working class rubes who didn't have the sense to know their place. It was one more reason he simmered with anger at Elizabeth. He'd been forced to delay his return to the mills so she could stay and nurse Malcolm and the seamstress back to health, even though they were in a perfectly good hospital. And she'd started making noises about Malcolm taking over the company again. If she managed to get in touch with the board of directors, she would soon find out he'd been telling them Malcolm was too busy sowing wild oats to be interested in running the company. It hadn't been difficult to convince them the handsome young man's interest centered on the women under the clothing, not the clothing itself.
139
An Unsinkable Love
by Terri Benson
He took out his new gold pocket watch, engraved with the date of the Titanic's sinking—a gift from the mayor's office—
and checked the time. "Where are they, damn it? They should have been here by now." Eldon stood and scanned the room toward the tall gothic arches of the main entry. He had agreed to meet them near the ticket booth at two o'clock, and it was quarter past already. As he searched the throng he saw Malcolm, half a head taller than most of the crowd, shepherding his mother and the little seamstress through the crush. A porter pushed a cart with their luggage close behind.
He only took a dozen steps before he heard a voice that stopped him dead in his tracks.