Voyage in Time: The Titanic (Out of Time #9) (7 page)

They entered into an empty antechamber and went through two sets of double doors that led onto the main entryway. This was the
Titanic
. The famous grand staircase curved up to A Deck and down to C and beyond. She walked over to the edge of the gallery and looked up at the glass dome above. The oak paneling was intricately carved. Big bronze cherubs held lamps on the middle railing as the two sets of stairs curved out to the next level.

Simon handed their papers to a steward who bowed slightly and gestured toward a set of green baize-covered doors. “This way, Sir Simon.”

He pushed open the door and let them precede him into the hall. They were ready to walk down it when he merely stepped inside and gestured to his immediate left.
 

“This is your suite, sir. B51, 53 and 55.”

“Suite?” Elizabeth asked.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it in style,” Simon said.

The steward reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of large skeleton-like keys. He chose one and put the rest back. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, then handed Simon the key.

Elizabeth peeked around Simon’s shoulder. In style was an understatement. The sitting room was exquisite—beautiful white paneled walls, elegant brocade furniture, and even a marble fireplace.
 

The steward opened an interior door. “The first bedroom. The second, bath and wardrobe are just beyond. Your trunks will brought here and unpacked, if you desire.”

He closed the door and walked over to another on the other side of the table and opened it. “Your private promenade.”

Elizabeth poked her head out. It was a long enclosed patio with wooden decking and wicker furniture and even a few potted plants.

“Thank you,” Simon said as he handed the man a tip. “We’re traveling without servants. I assume your staff will be able to meet our needs as they arise.”

The man bowed again. “Of course. Either Mister Hewett or Mister Penrose are at your complete disposal,” he said, gesturing to a button on the wall.
 

“Very good.”

“Welcome aboard, Sir. Madam.”

I
T
WAS
MORE
THAN
a little surreal standing on the Boat Deck of the
Titanic
as it set sail. Every instinct in her body told her to get off, to slide down one of the ropes to the dock, if necessary, and yet there she stood. It was what they had to do, she told herself. Niels Bohr had to survive the trip. Tens of thousands of lives, millions of lives, could be at stake if he didn’t. As frightening as the prospect of sailing on the
Titanic
was, what would happen if they didn’t was far worse.
 

They’d make it. Simon knew every detail of the ship and that fateful night, just five days away. They’d always be one step ahead and that would keep Bohr, and themselves, alive.

Next to her Simon craned his neck to scan the passengers lining the railing on the port side of the ship as it prepared to get underway. Bohr was here somewhere. Although, a part of her wished he wasn’t. If he’d managed somehow to sneak away and get off the ship, they’d both agreed they’d do the same. Elizabeth reflexively reached up to her neck and fingered the thin chain that held the watch key. They might not be able to use it on Bohr, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t use it to save themselves. Travers had at least assured them that, for the duration of their trip, the tracker would be off. If Niels wasn’t sailing, they’d agreed to use the watch and key to relocate to dry land. They could travel a few minutes into the past and put themselves safely on the dock and find his trail again.
If
he hadn’t sailed.

Knowing they had the watch and the key, if worse came to worse, was a comfort. Although Elizabeth swore she wouldn’t leave Simon or Niels behind, like Simon she wasn’t sure what she’d do when the moment came. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to find out.

Of course, first, they had to find Bohr she reminded herself as she joined Simon’s search along the deck. The Boat Deck and A Deck below were crowded with passengers eager to be part of the historic maiden voyage. Little did they know.

The railings were several people deep in parts. Finding Niels among the crowd would be difficult.
 

“We might as well watch it happen,” Simon said, his expression dour.

“It is kind of exciting.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but they found an empty spot along the railing and joined to watch.
 

The gangways were withdrawn and the giant ropes that moored the ship to the dock were dropped. Hundreds of people lined the dock below and the windows of the station. They waved and cheered as the mighty ship slowly began to ease away from the dock.

The crowd on land moved along with the ship, hoping to watch it as long as possible as it began its voyage out of the quay and onto the river toward the ocean.

The
Titanic
turned left, slowly, ponderously, as the tug, dwarfed by the enormous ocean liner, pulled her along.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” a man to Elizabeth’s right said.

She had to admit it was. “Very.”

He smiled amiably and took off his hat. “Harry Kimball,” he said.
 

He was pleasant looking, average. Brown hair and eyes, nondescript really, except for his smile. She liked it, very much.

“Elizabeth Cross.”

“You’re American?”

“I am,” she said.

Kimball looked at Simon and smiled.

“I am not,” Simon replied. He held out his hand and introduced himself.

Kimball laughed. “Gotcha.”
 

He shook Simon’s hand then put his hat back on, shaking his head in wonder. “How did they make it all so big? Never seen anything like it.”

Elizabeth agreed. It towered above the other ships it passed.
 

“So,” Kimball said, “are you leaving home or going home?”

“A little of both.”

“Not me. Going home. Been here far too long.” He looked apologetically at Simon. “Not that there’s anything wrong with England, mind you. Great country.”

“Thank you,” Simon said dryly.
 

Elizabeth fought down a smile.

“But a man misses home. His own bed. His own way of doing things.”

Elizabeth glanced at his hand to look for a wedding band before remembering that most men didn’t wear them. “Are you married?”

“To the job. Dry goods. Sounds boring, but it’s … well, it’s a little boring, but I love it. Marriage? Maybe someday, but I travel a lot.”

“That’s not lonely?”

“Naw,” Kimball said. “I make friends easily. Look at you and me.”

 
Elizabeth grinned. She liked him. He was easy and open.

The couple next to Kimball moved away and he turned toward the man leaning on the railing beyond where they’d been.

“And Nicholas here,” he said. “Nick!”

The man didn’t react and Elizabeth knew why. Niels Bohr wasn’t used to being called that.

Kimball slapped his arm with the back of his hand. “Nick?”

Bohr shook himself out of whatever reverie he’d been in and smiled at Kimball.

“Some new friends for ya,” Kimball said as he turned back to Simon and Elizabeth.

Niels’ smile faded.

“This is Elizabeth and um …” Kimball started and snapped his fingers until Simon supplied his name for him. “Right. This is Nick Baker.”

Niels tried to summon a smile. “Nicholas.”

Simon stepped forward and held out his hand. “Simon Cross. My wife, Elizabeth.”

Niels looked uneasily at them. “Nice to meet you.”

“Any friend of Harry’s,” Elizabeth said.

Niels relaxed a little, nodding gratefully that they hadn’t given him up.

Kimball threw back his head and laughed. He leaned on the railing and grinned at her. “I like you.” He looked at Simon and quickly added, “both of you.”

There was an awkward silence then and Kimball seemed to think a retreat was in order. He quickly found another group of friends. “Countess!” he cried and then looked back over his shoulder at Simon. “You don’t mind if I …?”

“Not at all,” Simon said.

“I’ll see you around.” He tipped his hat and hurried off.

Simon watched him go and then they both turned back to Niels. He frowned and turned toward the water, resting his elbows on the railing. “Thank you for not giving me away.”

“Believe it or not, Mr. Bo—” Simon started, “Mr. Baker, we are on your side.”

Niels clasped his hands in front of him. “How is it you know there are sides to be on?”

He cast a quick glance at them to gauge their reaction.

“It’s not exactly a mystery, is it? You were nearly murdered by a man who’s been following you since Manchester.”

Niels turned toward them with alarm. “He has?”

“We saw him on the train to Cambridge.”

Niels’ face grew worried. “You should not be involved in this”

 
“I’m afraid we are,” Simon said. “I don’t know who he is or why he tried to kill you. But he tried to kill Elizabeth this morning and that very much makes us involved.”

Bohr was suitably alarmed at that bit of news. “I am sorry.” He looked at Elizabeth. “That is my fault.”

He shook his head and looked down at the water. “If I had known this would put other people in danger …”

“You would have gone anyway,” Elizabeth said. He started to protest, but she shook her head. “It’s important, isn’t it? Wherever you’re going?”

He nodded slowly. “It could be.”

She wanted to ask him more, but he would tell them in his own time, if he told them at all. For now, she was just happy he was safe. If only he were safe somewhere else.

“Good Lord,” he said suddenly and leaned back.

“What’s wrong?”

He nodded toward the water and Elizabeth looked down to see what had alarmed him.
 

They were passing closely by two moored ocean liners, the
Oceanic
and the
New York
. Elizabeth heard what sounded like a gunshot and immediately grabbed onto Niels’ arm.

He shook his head. “It was the ropes.”

The mooring lines holding the
New Yor
k in place had snapped. The wake from the
Titanic
must have caused them to draw too tight and now they flew through the air like giant flailing snakes. The stern of the
New York
immediately began to swing out, right toward the
Titanic
.

Elizabeth swallowed. “Simon?”

He watched passively, curiously. “It’s all right.”

It didn’t
look
all right. The
New York
was much smaller than the
Titanic
, but it was drifting right into its path. She felt the engines beneath her surge and a slight sensation of slowing. They must have reversed engines. The wash that was created pushed against the
New York
and gave the
Titanic
just enough time to avoid the collision.
 

People on the docks and the
New York
were going crazy, but the passengers on the
Titanic
viewed it all with the same calm interest Simon had, but for very different reasons. He knew they’d miss each other. To the others, their calm came from the idea that this was all a mere curiosity; they were, after all, on an unsinkable ship.

“That was a near thing,” Niels said finally. “A bad omen.” He turned to them and smiled. “It’s a good thing I am not a superstitious man.”

“It’s never too late to start,” Elizabeth mumbled.

~~~

It had taken nearly an hour to sort out the
New York
and get the
Titanic
underway to France, where it would take on more passengers and supplies. When they finally did, Niels went back to his suite to rest before dinner. Last night had been as sleepless for him as it was for them.
 

“Now that we know Bohr—”

“Baker,” Elizabeth corrected. “Nicholas Baker.”

The sooner they both got used to that the better.

“Right. Now that we know he’s safely, if one can call it that, on board,” Simon continued, “I’m going to see the purser and the chief steward about a few things. I want to make sure we’re seated at … Nicholas’ table for dinner.”

“Good idea.”

Simon kissed her cheek and took a step away before turning back. “I won’t be gone long.”

“Okay.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You will manage to stay out of trouble for a few minutes?”

“I make no promises.”

He half smiled and half frowned at that. With a small laugh and a shake of his head he walked away down the deck. She watched him until he turned and disappeared down a flight of stairs.

What kind of trouble could she really get into?

She turned and collided with something, someone. The impact sent her staggering backward toward the stairs to the Second Class deck. Like a cartoon character, she felt herself almost falling, trapped in that slow-motion space between standing upright and plunging down a flight of stairs to one’s death. She windmilled her arms to try to regain her balance or grab onto the railing, but it wasn’t working. She had just enough time to look behind her and see a dozen metal stairs waiting to break her neck as she fell down them.

Just before she did, a hand latched onto one of her flailing arms and yanked her back from the abyss. She stumbled forward this time and found her face buried in a man’s chest.

“I’m sorry, miss,” a voice with a slight Cockney accent said in her ear.

He pushed her away almost as quickly as he had pulled her toward him.

“Holy macaroni and cheese, that was close,” Elizabeth gasped, her heart still pounding.

The young man’s ruddy face broke out into a broad grin.
 

“Edmund,” he said with a tip of his cap.

“Elizabeth.”

He looked anxiously over his shoulder and she saw why. Two deck stewards were in hot pursuit. He gave her another grin.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, tipped his cap and quickly made for the stairs. He slid down the railing and jumped onto the Second Class deck.

The stewards ran toward the stairs. Elizabeth stepped into their paths to slow them down. Whoever he was, he’d saved her life. Of course, he might have been the reason she was nearly killed, too, but she was willing to overlook that part.