Part 22 (1/2)

I watched the sunrise up on the Boat Deck. The icy wind cut through my light clothes, but I didn't feel it. My mind was too preoccupied with all I'd seen and heard since boarding in Southampton. I could hardly believe only three days had pa.s.sed. My heart told me it was far longer. Suddenly, I remembered something Julia said to me once: That time does not elapse for the human heart, that one moment could last a lifetime.

With Maddy, it would have to....

Right then, for the first time since Harlan had revealed the truth about her, and after hearing her heart wrenching story, the full weight of her impending mortality bore down upon me. I started to cry, the wind blowing the tears back against my ears.

”Oh, Maddy, I've just found you. I don't want to lose you!”

I saw someone turn the corner of the deck at the bow end of the starboard side, and I recognized the figure as that of Captain Pierce. He walked slowly and with what appeared to be a great deal of pain. What would make a man stick to his duty in spite of such excruciating agony, especially when it didn't really matter? I shook my head in disbelief and frank admiration. He walked by me, sending me a smart salute, a warm glint in his gentle eyes. I nodded back and was about to offer some parting words, but stopped myself when I remembered my breakfast date with Maddy. First, however, there was something I wanted to check out.

Number Nine lifeboat lay between the third and fourth funnels on the starboard side, just forward of the Aft Grand Staircase skylight. I went there now, wanting to see if Harlan had been telling the truth.

Climbing up onto one of the Welin davits, I worked loose one end of the canvas covering and peeked in.

It was hot and airless inside, smelling of must and canvas, and the heavy fabric was so thick almost no light penetrated, and only from where I'd loosened it. I couldn't see much, except for a few vague bundles and something that looked like a barrel. I breathed a sigh of relief and replaced the canvas. Harlan had spoken the truth.

Now, it was time to get word to someone about what Harlan planned to do.

Climbing down from the davit, I hurried along the deck to the Wireless Room. As I had hoped, Sammy was on duty.

”h.e.l.lo, Mr. Hughes, how's the book coming along?”

”Fine, Sammy,” I said, forcing a smile on my face I did not feel. ”I want to send another dispatch.”

Sammy's smile slid off his face.

”I'm so sorry, sir, but Mr. Astor has ordered radio silence. We can receive...but no transmissions are allowed for the duration of the voyage.”

An icy finger slid up my spine. ”But surely you can let me get out my last dispatch....”

”I wish I could, Mr. Hughes, but they've even taken my telegraph key.” He pointed to an empty spot on his desk and the two bare wires once hooked to the now missing key. ”I couldn't send anything, even if I wanted to.”

I was about to protest when I remembered my MacBook. With its cellular function, I wouldn't need the Marconi wireless. Feeling a little foolish, I bade Sammy a cheery good morning and headed down to my suite.

The MacBook was missing from its place inside my dresser. And since the bed had been made, I knew Henry had been there. Fuming, I started out the door toward Harlan's suite, then thought better of it. They didn't want me to get a message out, that much was obvious. But what angered me was that for all of Harlan's eloquent words, he didn't trust me, and that hurt. Besides, going there would only alert them that I knew.

Disgusted, I left the suite and took the Grand Staircase down to D-deck.

I found Maddy at her usual table by the window. Her loving smile turned to a frown of concern when she saw the troubled look on my face. I sat down and quickly brought her up to date.

”What do you think he's going to do?” she asked when I'd finished.

”I honestly don't know, Maddy,” I replied. ”I thought I knew him, but obviously, I don't.”

”Maybe you need to give him the chance.”

I was about to offer a reply when a steward came up bearing a bottle of champagne. ”Compliments of Captain Pierce, Mr. Hughes,” he said, showing me the label. It was a Dom Perignon, 2002 vintage, an exceptional year for that vintner. Unfortunately, I wasn't really in the mood for it, yet to refuse the gift would have been unthinkable. Maddy seemed to sense my reticence.

”How about a mimosa,” she offered, ”it'll be romantic.”

I turned to the steward and nodded my a.s.sent, and he turned and left. He appeared a few moments later with two tall gla.s.ses filled with the mixture of orange juice and the Dom Perignon. I lifted my gla.s.s and turned to the captain's table, nodding my thanks. Curiously, he avoided my gaze. I turned back to Maddy.

”I guess he thinks mixing champagne with orange juice is barbaric. Anyway, here's to us.”

Maddy lifted her gla.s.s, a sad smile on her face. ”To us,” she echoed.

I found the mimosa cold and refres.h.i.+ng, draining it in three swallows. The steward returned and took our food orders, and I opted for the Eggs Benedict, the lightest thing on the menu. While we waited for our breakfast, we talked of our lives prior to meeting. I spoke of my latest novel, and she her last design job. We both knew we were avoiding what was uppermost in our minds, but we needed the respite.

When the food arrived, I dived in, savoring the delicious subtleties of the Hollandaise sauce. And then I suddenly felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the fatigue I'd staved off for the entire night.

”Are you all right?” Maddy said, concerned.

”I think I need a long nap, maybe then I'll be able to make sense of everything.”

”You want some company?”

She said this without a trace of coyness, and I knew she meant it to be taken at face value. And the truth was, I didn't want to be alone.

”Yes, I would.”

We left the Dining Saloon and took one of the lifts up to B-deck and let ourselves into my suite. Once again, Henry had been in to straighten up. The dizziness overwhelmed me again, and I sat in one of the Biedermeier chairs, while Maddy turned down the bed. She helped me undress and into the bed, then climbed in after me.

”Sleep well, my Galahad,” she said.

Her voice echoed, and my head felt as if it were swathed in cotton.

”What did you say?” I said, my tongue thick and clumsy. I tried to sit up and another wave of dizziness washed over me.

”Maddy? What's happening to me?”

And I blacked out....

19.

When I awoke, darkness had fallen; and along with the pale starlight streaming in through the portholes, there came a feeling of vague disquiet. For a full minute I lay there trying to pin it down, trying to figure out what bothered me, a task made all the harder by the ringing in my ears and the dull ache throbbing behind my eyes. Shaking my head to clear it, I sat up with a groan, my muscles crying in protest.

Something wasn't right-something was different.

And then it hit me.

The vibration of the engines had ceased. We'd come to a stop. I fumbled for the light switch and snapped it on, flooding the room with soft amber light.

Maddy was gone.

Her side of the bed was neatly tucked in, and her clothes were no longer piled on one of the Biedermeier chairs, as they had been earlier that day. I got up and padded into the other room. That, too, was empty. It was then I suddenly felt an overwhelming need to relieve myself and ran into the bathroom settling onto the archaic water closet just seconds before I would have had an accident. Another wave of dizziness washed over me when I stood up, and I waited until it pa.s.sed before moving on.

Returning to my own bedroom, I picked up my watch. The hands read: 10:30. I'd slept for over twelve hours, not unusual when I'd stayed up half the night. And then I noticed the day/date windows: SAT 14.