Page 29 of Haunting the Deep

I turn around once in front of the long mirror to make sure everything’s in order. This corset might be the end ofme.

A bugle belts a tune.

“Time fer dinner, then.” Mollie holds out a long white coat and I slip my arms into it.

We leave my bedroom, with its canopied bed, and make our way into the burgundy-colored sitting room, which has plush armchairs and a fireplace. Mollie holds the door for me. The moment I step into the hallway, I realize I’m unsure which way to go. It looks familiar and foreign at the same time. Maybe I ate something I shouldn’t have and it’s making me sick?

“Left, miss,” she says, and I listen. “Through this archway on yer right.”

I smile at her. I’m glad she’s here. I would feel strange wandering around with all these fancy people, asking for directions. We walk through a long room with couches and a sprawling grand staircase shaped like a lady’s fan.

Mollie opens a door that leads into an extravagant dining room. The tiles on the floor look exactly like Persian carpet, white columns come down from the ornate white ceiling, and women wear jewelry fit for museums.

I grab Mollie’s hand. There must be more than two hundred elegantly dressed people in here, many of whom turn to inspect me as we pass.

“On yer left,” Mollie whispers, “three tables ahead of us. Alexander Jessup Jr.”

I count up three tables and make brief eye contact with a handsome guy around my age with brown hair and blue eyes. He smiles at me, and my heart leapfrogs.

“Yer uncle Harry is watching, miss,” Mollie whispers, and leads me to a table on my right.

I immediately shift my gaze to a distinguished middle-aged gentleman, who rises from his seat. “You look beautiful this evening, niece. That dress suits you perfectly.”

“Thank you, Uncle Harry.” His name sticks in my mouth like I’ve never said it before. I hope he doesn’t notice. Maybe the motion of the boat is affecting me? Actually, I’m sure that’s it. I’m not used to sea travel. I exhale, relieved to have located the probable cause of my strange feelings.

Mollie takes my white coat and gives it to a waiter. Behind my uncle is a youngish-looking man with handsome brown skin and strikingly attractive features.

My uncle follows my line of sight and turns to the man. “That will be all, Hammad.”

“Yes, sir.” Hammad bows and makes eye contact with me before he walks away. He’s got an accent that I can’t quite place.

My uncle brings his napkin to his lap.

A waiter appears to my right. “May I serve you wine, miss?”

I almost say no, that I’m not old enough. But I look at my uncle, and he doesn’t seem to object. “Yes, thank you.”

The waiter fills my glass without spilling a drop on the crisp white tablecloth.

“Since it is only the two of us for dinner tonight, I thought we might invite the Jessups to sit with us. Yea or nay?” His amused grin lets me know Alexander’s feelings are not a secret. But if he’s inviting him to our table, then he must approve, right?

I nod into my wineglass, and my uncle waves them over.

A man around my uncle’s age, tall and lean with a hard face, approaches with Alexander behind him.

“May I present Mr. Alexander Jessup and his son, Alexander Jessup Jr.” My uncle gestures toward me. “My niece, Samantha Mather. Her aunt and I have just taken her on a tour of Europe and Asia.”

Europe and Asia?But as they both bow to me, my question fades from my thoughts.

Mr. Jessup claps my uncle on the back and takes the seat next to him. “What a treat that we can join you both tonight, Mr. Harper.”

Alexander sits next to me.

The older men start talking immediately, and I read my menu, which has “RMS TITANIC” stenciled at the top. I frown at it. I have a nagging sense I can’t remember something. Something I don’t like.

“Did you enjoy your tour, Miss Mather?” Alexander asks.

I look up from my menu to find dark blue eyes focused intently on me. For a second I forget he’s asked me a question.