Hymn To My Soul

~ CHAPTER 3 ~

    The next morning, Lydia had found herself at a table in the Reading and Writing room sitting across from her father in yellow chairs by the windows. He sat with his face buried in the unfolded pages of yesterday's paper, carefully examining each article and picture that came with it. Lydia spent her time reading her book peacefully while jotting down notes to reference for the future novels she was to write. Silas had resorted to joining Cal in the Smoking Room for a cup of tea and conversations with a British delegate. She hadn't known where Rose had disappeared to after breakfast, but she didn't mind the calm within the quiet room. It made her feel at home where she could find comfort instead of anger and regret. This was her safe haven. Here within her book and her stories.

    It wasn't long before she closed her book and told her father she would take a walk on the deck and get some air. Her father hadn't truly heard her but gave her a hum in acknowledgment. She nodded to him and walked gently out of the room toward the grand staircase. She had been too in her thoughts about her newest romance concept that she bumped into the shoulder of a man which resulted in her books being dropped from her hands.

    "Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking." She immediately apologized as she kneeled to pick up her books, embarrassment filling her body as she shakily reached out her hands to the ground.

    "No, no, it was me. I'm so sorry. Here, let me get that for you." Said a deep, Irish voice before Lydia caught sight of a large hand connected to a black suit holding out a book to her. Irish? Haven't heard a lot of that around here. It's rather sweet.

    She took it and looked up only to be met with a handsome man with brown eyes and dark grey hair slicked back, yet wavy. "Thank you, sir." She made out slowly, still captivated by the sparkle in his eye and the shimmer in his smile. When their eyes locked, she couldn't breathe. It was as if something clicked but she didn't know what or how to understand it.

    "Of course. You know, I really like that book you're reading. It's one of my favorites." He mentioned, his Irish accent thick and captivating. It really is nice. She nodded, her face becoming flush and red hot.

    "Thank you, sir." She repeated, before turning away awkwardly and racing up the grand staircase. She paused momentarily to catch a glimpse of the doorway, only to lock eyes with those soft chocolate ones. A squeak escaped her lips before she hurried up and out onto the deck. The air met her with a blast which took her breath away even more than before. She ran to the edge and looked out upon the endless sea. Leaning against the railing of the ship while resting the other hand against her stomach, she tried to catch her breath. She attempted fanning herself but her face couldn't cool down. That handsome face kept returning to her through her memory, never letting her rest. Those piercing brown eyes and sweet apologetic smile. It felt like a million butterflies had somehow awakened within her stomach and began to flutter within her rib cage. She couldn't control it.

    "Lydia!" Came a voice from behind her. She spun around and came face to face with Rose walking with a round woman.

    "Rose!" Lydia sighed as the two embraced.

    When they parted, Rose sensed something was the matter, noticing that her friend was sweating uncontrollably. "Why, Lydia, are you alright? You're burning up. Are you catching a fever?" She asked, putting her cool hand on her head. Lydia shook her head as she pulled her hand away.

    "Oh, no, not at all. I just ran up the stairs rather quickly." She waved off, not sure what she should say.

    "Well, if you ask me, your face looks more flushed with a blush than simply out of breath." Said the woman beside Rose in a deep American southern accent. She was a plump woman with brown hair curled into a tight bun and fashioned with a large black hat that canopy over her face. Noticing Lydia's confusion, she shuffled her free hand out to her. "Forgive me. My name is Molly Brown, on my way home to America from good ol' France."

    "She came in at Cherbourg last night," Rose added with a nod. "She's been telling me all about her ventures and travels about how she got into big money. Your husband struck it rich with gold, right?" Rose turned to Molly who nodded with an assertive expression.

    Lydia smiled. "It's so nice to meet you, Molly." She introduced herself.

    They began to walk around the deck, observing the beautiful craftsmanship that was displayed within each panel of wood that was laid down beneath their feet. They talked about their lives and their backgrounds, Lydia's being that her father owned a business back in New York which brought them much status and money. Rose had grown up in money thanks to the prosperity of her father, but it was a hidden secret only to her, her mother, and the slight knowledge that she had confided in Lydia that after her father's death, they were running out of money to stay afloat in their higher society status. Not that Rose cared much, but just like Lydia, she knew nothing about how to survive in the world without money or the care of the First Class. In the end, both of their mothers were the ones to force them into an engagement they didn't want all for the sake of staying afloat in the society they cared so much about. It hurt to be stuck, but they knew they could confide in each other to have some sort of sanity in the situation. Molly seemed to pick up on their restlessness with their fiancés and only asked about it once to confirm her suspicions.

    Lydia had quickly grown to like the woman. She was strong and individually minded. She didn't care how others thought about her and carried her weight when she needed to. She was the figure of the American Spirit on this ship; a spirit of freedom and liberty. Lydia and Rose admired that about her and enjoyed the rest of the walk that they had with her. When they entered back into the First Class entrance to the grand staircase, Lydia was again awestruck by the style and artwork. She couldn't focus on the conversation any longer as she gazed at the golden accents and the luxurious chairs.

    "You have quite the liking for architecture, Lydia," Molly noted as Lydia lagged behind while staring at the light fixtures. "You can't seem to stop talking about it and end up getting distracted by it."

    She snapped out of her daze and caught up with them. "It's just that this ship is so grand and new. I've been a good many expensive places, but this architecture is so rich and beautiful that it never ceases to amaze me. I'm so incredibly captivated by it. Don't you think?"

    "I believe so. Have you met Mr Andrews yet?" Molly asked.

    "No, I haven't. Mr Ismay mentioned that he was to join us for Afternoon Tea so I've been waiting until then. I don't want to embarrass myself by disturbing him at odd hours." Lydia explained.

    "Well, then, be sure to talk his ear off. I heard he is a very timid fellow, but he enjoys talking about his creations. I'm sure he'll get a hoot out of talking with you." She laughed heartily. Lydia joined in bashfully as Rose smiled at her. Somehow, Lydia had found something that she enjoyed to distract her from the noise that awaited when she arrived in New York. Rose admired that about her, but she had yet to discover something for herself. If anything she had become disheartened, losing faith in herself to hold strong. But she gave her friend the best smile she could muster after seeing her so happy in her surroundings. She would support her to the end.

    "Well, I best be leaving to meet some other important ladies. I'd love to meet the Countess of Rothes. I've seen that your mother has taken a liking to her as well." Molly nodded to Rose. She nodded in return before saying goodbye to the woman leaving the two girls alone at the base of the staircase.

    "I rather like her a lot," Lydia noted as they moved up the stairs toward B-deck.

    Rose nodded. "She is quite the character." They paused as they came to the fork in the road to their two suites. "Well, I'll see you at tea."

    "See you at tea." They nodded to each other before parting ways and taking refuge within their own spaces.