Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Friday, April 19, 1912

The Alton Estate

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

When she was little, Cate had complained to Lillian that going up the drive to the Altons’ mansion took nearly as long as the voyage across the Atlantic had.  But this was only after Cate had grown used to living in such an opulent, grand place.  The first time she had laid eyes on the Alton Estate, she had been stunned into silence, her blue eyes round as saucers.  Now, nearly fourteen years later, Cate felt herself succumb to that same silence.  The drive had always symbolized so much: the return to misery living with her grandparents and a restrictive life.  For a short while, she had thought she would never feel that way again.  And now she had returned to it, as if nothing had happened.

They had been met at the train station by Mr. Holloway and Mr. Pearson, the Altons’ two chauffeurs, an extra motor having been brought for the luggage (mainly Lillian’s, as all of Cate’s had been lost) and the four servants.  Cate had been silent since they had left the penthouse, far too aware that she was growing closer and closer to her maternal grandparents with each passing second.  Just days before, she had been so sure that she would be seeing them next with the confidence that she would soon be out of their clutches.

The Alton Estate had been built specifically for Adam and Beth, commissioned by them in 1871 upon their marriage in Wiltshire, using a portion of his family’s vast fortune to pay for it.  The grounds were expansive, full of emerald green lawns with garden paths, flowers, and fountains, as well as stables.  The house was a combination of Adam’s English tastes and Beth’s luxurious ones, and they had moved into the completed home five years later, when their children were still quite young.

“I’ve almost got Grandfather convinced to install electric lights,” Lillian was saying, apparently eager to compensate for her sister’s silence.  “Mr. and Mrs. Norcross have a generator, and it’s quite convenient.  I’ve already made sure that our home will have electricity, of course.  I don’t think I could get by without it.”

When the motor stopped outside the house, finally having reached the apex of the circular drive, Mr. Holloway leapt from the front seat and opened the door.  As he did so, the Altons’ footman walked down steps to meet them, taking Lillian’s hand and then Cate’s to assist them from the vehicle.  Whenever Beth or Adam would return from a long voyage, the entire staff would line up outside to greet them—the butler, the footman,  the maids.

“Where are our grandparents, Henry?” Lillian asked as the second car rumbled its way up the drive and stopped behind them.

“Lord and Lady Cowanshire are in the drawing room, Miss Lillian,” Henry replied, nodding at the two hall boys to begin unloading the steamer trunk from the second motor.  “They’ve requested that you and Miss Catharine join them.”

“Of course, they have,” Cate grumbled, speaking for the first time since they left New York.

Henry led the way up the steps and into the house.  As they followed him, Cate glanced at Esther as she emerged from the second car, her mistress’s items still clutched tightly in her hands.  Lillian sighed, removing her gloves as they walked through the foyer and past the staircase of dark oak, handing them to one of the maids without pausing in her stride.

The first thing one saw when entering the drawing room was a larger than life portrait hanging above the mantle.  It depicted a strikingly beautiful young woman with waves of dark, almost black, hair, with ivory-colored skin and high, chiseled cheekbones—Cate’s mother, Sophie.  She seemed to gaze down upon them imperiously, one eyebrow arched.  Cate had often wondered how her mother had held such a pose for so long.

“Miss Lillian Alton, Miss Catharine Alton, and Mr. Daniel Norcross,” Henry announced as they crossed through the archway into the drawing room.

Sitting on a long sofa in the center of the room were Adam and Beth Alton.  Adam, a tall man with snow-white hair and dark eyes, stood when they entered.  His wife, on the other hand, remained where she sat.  Élisabeth Alton was a formidable woman, her iron gray curls pinned just so on her head, an imperious expression upon her face that matched her daughter’s portrait.

“Why on earth are you girls wearing black?” she demanded as a greeting.  “And why is your hair down?”

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them, he smiled benignly.  “Welcome back,” he said.  “Catharine, your grandmother and I are quite glad that you’re safe.”

Even if Cate had had the intention to respond, she wasn’t given the chance.

“Why are you wearing black?” Beth repeated, rising to her feet.  “You look as if you’re in mourning.”

Lillian glanced at Cate before speaking.  “We are in mourning,” she said shortly.

“Why in heaven would that be?”  Beth rolled her eyes, as if Lillian was speaking gibberish.  “Catharine is alive and well, isn’t she?  Yes, a great many people died, but as they’re not family—”

“Our father was on board,” Cate interrupted quietly.  “He was Titanic’s first officer.”

There was a silence.  Adam and Beth glanced at one another, but Cate continued to stare at them.  Will was never mentioned around them—they acted as if he was a pebble in their shoe, something to be rid of, an unfortunate part of their lives.

“I see,” Adam said slowly.  “And he…”

“He didn’t make it.”  Why did Cate have to keep saying this?  How many more people would she have to tell?  How many times would she have to say “My father’s dead” before it became real to her?

Another pause.  Adam opened his mouth to say something, but Beth cut across him.

“Well, that’s twenty-five dollars a month that we’ll save,” she said, shaking her head.

For a moment, no one said anything.  Sudden rage was surging through Cate like wildfire.  She pictured herself lunging across the room and attacking her grandmother, scratching her eyes out, ripping the hair from her head.  She felt Daniel’s hand on her shoulder, as if he had read her mind and knew what she wanted to do.

“Really, Beth—” Adam began, sounding quite irritated.

“How dare you,” Cate said, her voice low, shaking with fury.  “Our father is dead.  And you stand there as if a burden has been lifted, when your granddaughters stand broken-hearted before you!  My father was twice the person you could ever hope to be, you heartless witch!”

But Beth smiled coldly.  “I’ll assume that your impertinence is due to your grief,” she said coolly, “and say no more on the subject.  Now… I expect the two of you to change out of your black at once—as far society knows, you have not lost anyone, and therefore, you are not in mourning.  Catharine, I assume all of your things were lost?”

Cate didn’t respond.  Her face was burning hot, and her fists were clenched.  She knew that if she opened her mouth, she would say something she would regret.

Beth sighed, shaking her head irritably.  “Very well,” she snapped.  “You’ll need to go shopping to replace what was lost.  Once you’ve changed, I’ll have the automobile brought around for you to go into town.”

“She needs to be seen by a doctor,” Lillian said softly.

“Yes, yes, fine,” said Beth, waving her hand dismissively.  “Have someone call the doctor to examine her.”

The moment the drawing room door was closed behind them, Cate whirled around to face her sister, though the movement caused her head to throb painfully.

“Why would you just stand there?” she demanded furiously.  “Why would you let her talk about our father that way?”

Lillian sighed, looking uncomfortable.  “There’s no point in fighting them,” she said, shaking her head.  “Especially Grand-mère.  Besides, I’ll be out from under her thumb soon enough, just as soon as Daniel and I marry.”  She glanced at her fiancé, who gave her the briefest of smiles.

“And what about me?” Cate asked, knowing she sounded like a forlorn child.

Her sister shrugged.  “Maybe you should find someone you want to marry,” she suggested.

After the doctor left, Cate stood in the bedroom that had always been hers.  Though it had been unoccupied for months, Esther had done her best to make it more welcoming—opening the sash so that the lacy curtains billowed slightly in the cool breeze.  It was all familiar—the large bed with its four tall, ornately carved posts, the matching bureau, the writing desk, the tall mirror in the corner.

The doctor had examined her thoroughly, especially the stitches in her scalp, eventually proclaiming that the doctor aboard the Carpathia had done everything perfectly, and that the wound should heal with no problems.  He supported Esther’s decision not to pin Cate’s hair, and instructed her to keep this up until they were removed in the next couple of days.

As she stood there, Cate let the silence consume her.  Lillian was strolling the grounds with Daniel, Beth and Adam were still downstairs, Esther was up in the attics, and Cate was finally alone.  The only sound to be heard was the occasional rustle of the wind, or a bird chirping cheerfully outside.  Her eyes fell on her teddy bear, which Esther had placed upon one of the pillows on the bed.  The bear had a rather sad look upon his light brown face, and his stiff arms were posed so that he seemed to be reaching out to her, his white paws turned upward.  Though she had been ten when Will had given her the bear, she had been overjoyed at the gift, hugging it tightly and immediately proclaiming that his name was to be “William.”

“I love you, Catey.”

A sob burst from Cate’s lips as she heard her father’s voice in her mind, so clearly that it was as if he stood beside her.  She felt herself falling and didn’t try to stop, her knees hitting the rug that covered the dark, oak planks of the floor.  She covered her face in her hands, her fingers gripping at her hair and tugging the stitches painfully.  How could this be?  How could this possibly be?  Why had they left her so alone?

“Did you miss me?”

Cate started.  She jerked her head up, stunned to see James kneeling beside her, a gentle smile alight on his handsome face, the dimples she adored showing in his cheeks.

“James,” she breathed.  “You’re—”

James reached forward to take her hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing them.

“I told you I’d come back to you,” he said.  “Did you doubt?”

Cate stared at him.  Was this real?  Was she hallucinating?  It seemed so vivid, him sitting beside her, his warm skin, his breath against her fingers.  Relief flooded through her.  He was alive.  Her James was alive!  She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his hands on hers.  She couldn’t stop the tears from continuing to flood down her cheeks, with no end in sight.  Finally!  It had seemed ages, rather than just days, that she had been waiting for him.  And now, finally, he had returned.

There was a knock on the door.

When Cate opened her eyes again, she was alone.  Esther was knocking on the door, and she was alone in the room.  The gust blowing through the open window had grown cold, causing goosebumps to erupt along her arms.  James was nowhere to be seen, though she could still feel the warmth he had left on her hands.  But she was alone. He had felt so real beside her, so warm and close.  But her mind was playing tricks on her.  Of course, James wasn’t with her there in her bedroom.  He was lying at the bottom of the ocean with her father.