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Authors: Yvonne Lehman
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chandeliers reflected the sparkle of the ladies' jewels making them shine and seem to dance. The French fawn panels on the walls were a perfect companion to the rose-colored carpet. Little pink silk shades covered softly glowing lights on the tables. Silk curtains graced the large bay windows.
Lydia was seated beside John, and next to him at the end of the table was Craven, looking stiffly distinguished. On her left were Caroline, William, Henry, and Conrad Daley, the American owner of several newspapers. Mr. Ismay was across from Craven. Captain Smith sat directly across from John. Lydia thought that might be a good sign. On the captain's right were Molly, Harriett, S. J., Lady Lavinia, Madeleine Astor, and John Astor.
Everyone at the table seemed to be holding their breath as they waited for the words of the captain, who wore a smug expression. He gave a brief blessing, "Thank you, Lord, for the bounty, for it is in Thy name we pray, amen."
Following the "amen's" around the table, they placed their orders from the À la Carte menu.
"Now," the captain said, "I believe there has been some mention of a wedding aboard ship."
Molly poked him with her elbow. "What everybody wants to know, Ed, is are you going to do this or do I have Ismay fire you, and take over this operation myself?"
"Why, Mrs. Brown," he turned his head toward her with a dignified look on his face but a playfulness in his tone, "surely you know my passengers' wishes are my command."
Ismay lifted his glass. "I believe we'll go with Captain Smith on this one."
"This is an occasion," Daley said from down the table. "A front-page article, to be sure. With pictures."
His glance started the photographers snapping and flashing.
Men chorused, "Hear, Hear." Women made sounds of agreement. They all toasted with their glasses of wine. Passengers at other tables turned to observe the joviality.
Lydia thought of her father's photos of him sitting at the captain's table. Daley had said a picture would be delivered the following day, along with a copy of the menu and a note of thanks from the captain.
That was possible because on the Titanic there were several photographers.
"There will be chapel in the morning," Captain Smith reminded them. "But I will be able to perform the ceremony following dinner tomorrow evening. Just inform me of your plans."
Lydia felt overwhelmed. "Oh, this is too wonderful. You're all invited, of course. The whole room. The whole ship." She looked at John.
He laughed. "Whatever you want."
She wanted him as her husband. That would have been enough. But this would be wonderful for the passengers, and the kind of publicity that would be good for all the businesspeople involved. Perhaps her father would be pleased with news that would be worldwide. She dared not look past John at Craven. She could imagine the tolerant expression on his face. She knew about his lingering gazes, reminding her of his saying she and John were impulsive, young, and foolish.
She wished he could read her thought: And just what in the world is wrong with that?
Lydia saw Madeleine discreetly put her hand to her mouth, turn to her husband, and whisper. Mr. Astor nodded, picked up his glass, and announced, "The reception will be my and Madeleine's gift to the bride and groom, one befitting the first couple to be married aboard the ship of dreams." He lifted his glass higher. "Invite the entire first class, if you wish."
The "hear, hears" sounded again, the toast made, and the wine sipped.
The captain raised his hand for attention. "We must give time for diners to finish a leisurely dinner, and allow the staff time for setting up the reception."
He knew a reception given by the Astors would be no small affair.
Glasses were lifted again in agreement. "Settled," the captain said. "A wedding at 10:00 p.m."
"I have something to say," Harriett began and everyone quieted. She looked directly at Lydia. "You didn't bring your wedding dress, is that correct?"
Lydia
Lydia was seated beside John, and next to him at the end of the table was Craven, looking stiffly distinguished. On her left were Caroline, William, Henry, and Conrad Daley, the American owner of several newspapers. Mr. Ismay was across from Craven. Captain Smith sat directly across from John. Lydia thought that might be a good sign. On the captain's right were Molly, Harriett, S. J., Lady Lavinia, Madeleine Astor, and John Astor.
Everyone at the table seemed to be holding their breath as they waited for the words of the captain, who wore a smug expression. He gave a brief blessing, "Thank you, Lord, for the bounty, for it is in Thy name we pray, amen."
Following the "amen's" around the table, they placed their orders from the À la Carte menu.
"Now," the captain said, "I believe there has been some mention of a wedding aboard ship."
Molly poked him with her elbow. "What everybody wants to know, Ed, is are you going to do this or do I have Ismay fire you, and take over this operation myself?"
"Why, Mrs. Brown," he turned his head toward her with a dignified look on his face but a playfulness in his tone, "surely you know my passengers' wishes are my command."
Ismay lifted his glass. "I believe we'll go with Captain Smith on this one."
"This is an occasion," Daley said from down the table. "A front-page article, to be sure. With pictures."
His glance started the photographers snapping and flashing.
Men chorused, "Hear, Hear." Women made sounds of agreement. They all toasted with their glasses of wine. Passengers at other tables turned to observe the joviality.
Lydia thought of her father's photos of him sitting at the captain's table. Daley had said a picture would be delivered the following day, along with a copy of the menu and a note of thanks from the captain.
That was possible because on the Titanic there were several photographers.
"There will be chapel in the morning," Captain Smith reminded them. "But I will be able to perform the ceremony following dinner tomorrow evening. Just inform me of your plans."
Lydia felt overwhelmed. "Oh, this is too wonderful. You're all invited, of course. The whole room. The whole ship." She looked at John.
He laughed. "Whatever you want."
She wanted him as her husband. That would have been enough. But this would be wonderful for the passengers, and the kind of publicity that would be good for all the businesspeople involved. Perhaps her father would be pleased with news that would be worldwide. She dared not look past John at Craven. She could imagine the tolerant expression on his face. She knew about his lingering gazes, reminding her of his saying she and John were impulsive, young, and foolish.
She wished he could read her thought: And just what in the world is wrong with that?
Lydia saw Madeleine discreetly put her hand to her mouth, turn to her husband, and whisper. Mr. Astor nodded, picked up his glass, and announced, "The reception will be my and Madeleine's gift to the bride and groom, one befitting the first couple to be married aboard the ship of dreams." He lifted his glass higher. "Invite the entire first class, if you wish."
The "hear, hears" sounded again, the toast made, and the wine sipped.
The captain raised his hand for attention. "We must give time for diners to finish a leisurely dinner, and allow the staff time for setting up the reception."
He knew a reception given by the Astors would be no small affair.
Glasses were lifted again in agreement. "Settled," the captain said. "A wedding at 10:00 p.m."
"I have something to say," Harriett began and everyone quieted. She looked directly at Lydia. "You didn't bring your wedding dress, is that correct?"
Lydia
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