last night," Caroline said. "Did you hear them?"
Lydia replied that she hadn't but looked forward to it. She thought of how differently her late evenings had been spent. That's when she'd been so troubled by what to do, what to say to John, how to tell him.
Amazing how one's anxiety could be dispelled in a short time. Her glance kept returning to the ring, glistening on her finger, and she felt her heart must surely be shining too.
Reaching the entrance, Lydia's gaze scanned the assembled passengers. She recognized Stanton-Jones from the picture on his book covers. He wasn't difficult to see, being half a head taller than most of the men. Lady Stanton-Jones looked like her photos in newspaper society pages.
John took the envelope from his pocket and said to a steward, "The captain said I might speak with him."
He ignored the envelope. "Mr. Ancell. This way please."
Caroline held up crossed fingers and the tilt of her head meant Go with my good wishes.
Lydia and John followed the steward, who reported to the captain, "Mr. Ancell has arrived."
The captain excused himself from Lady Stanton-Jones and the friendly Mr. and Mrs. Straus. Lydia thought how grand if she and John would have a long life together and be obviously in love like that older couple.
John introduced her to the captain.
"Miss Beaumont. I've looked forward to meeting you. I'm sorry your father is ill and couldn't make this trip."
After a brief discussion of her father's health, Lydia told him what he likely already knew, and which was true of many travelers: "My father wouldn't cross any ocean without you at the helm of the ship."
His smile enhanced his handsome, white-bearded face. "Cyril and I have had many a good conversation." He looked at John. "I believe your note mentioned a personal matter."
"Yes, sir," John said. "Miss Beaumont and I are engaged to be married."
He appeared genuinely pleased. "Congratulations."
Seeing John's discomfort at how to ask, Lydia took over.
"Would you consider performing the marriage ceremony?"
His great white eyebrows rose, and his eyes twinkled from both the light of the chandeliers and his obvious pleasure. "You mean have a wedding on this maiden voyage of the Titanic?"
"Exactly. Imagine the publicity," she said, as if there hadn't been a sufficient amount already.
His fingers touched his bearded chin. "Ah, decisions. But Cyril would never forgive me if I refused a request from his daughter."
She refrained from saying her father might never forgive him if he agreed to the request.
"How about this?" he mused. "There are some who would want to have a deciding vote on such an event taking place. I mean, unless it were to be small and private."
"I was thinking the grand staircase."
He didn't seem surprised. "Barring any unforeseen circumstance I will be honored to perform the ceremony, privately or including the—" he grinned and his eyes danced merrily, "the grand staircase."
He cautioned, "I don't make the plans, however, I just ensure they're carried out."
He waited until the bugler wandered farther down the deck, announcing lunch with the blasts of his trumpet, and then spoke again. "Shall we discuss this further at dinner?"
"Yes, thank you," Lydia said as John thanked him too.
Captain Smith glanced at the steward standing a few feet away appearing to be deaf, but his nod indicated that he had received the silent message from the captain about dinner and would comply.
10
J ohn watched Captain Smith walk over to a group of passengers. He'd never personally met the managing director of the White Star Line, J. Bruce Ismay, or Thomas Andrews, the ship's builder, but he had seen their pictures in the newspapers and in the Titanic's advertisements.
He'd heard it mentioned that John Jacob Astor was the richest man on the ship. Lady Stanton-Jones engaged in conversation with Mrs. Astor, whom Lydia said was in the family way and in her teens; although Mr. Astor was forty.
Seeing