Read Online The Captain's Daughter by Leah Fleming - Free Book Online Page A

hardly breathe for the ache in her ribs, that wave of relief to be alive, yet guilt, fury and loss were drowning her at the same time. She must turn aside from her own grief and live for this baby in her arms. In the purple twilight between darkness and daylight, she stared out to sea, wild-eyed, bewildered like a frightened child watching the sea crash against the ship, her eyes searching for something that was no longer there.
    It came to her then that this was the most she could make of life now, a lonely journey carrying such a momentous secret in her heart, crippled with pain and guilt, with only this tiny mite in her arms. Numb as she was, part of her mind was alert, reasoning her actions. God be with you, my darlings. I hope you understand there’s a little one here who needs me now. You will remain in my heart for as long as I live but now I have another purpose. She had survived to take care of this baby. Ella would be her reason to live.

18
    Later on that long morning came the muster roll of survivors.
    ‘Your name?’ said the officer, consulting his list, making sure every rescued passenger was accounted for.
    ‘Mary Smith, but I am called May,’ said May, hesitating, looking at Celeste. ‘My husband, Joseph Smith, is twenty-seven, tall and dark. He’s a carpenter.’ She looked up hopefully.
    He didn’t meet her eye. ‘The baby?’
    ‘Ellen Smith . . . little Ella, we call her. The captain saved her,’ she added almost proudly.
    ‘She’s right, ask the fireman on our lifeboat. He tried to drag him in . . . but he swam off,’ Celeste added.
    ‘I see. And you are . . . ?’
    ‘Celestine Parkes, Mrs Grover Parkes from Akron, Ohio. I was with this lady in the same lifeboat. Do you have a Mrs Grant on board?’
    The officer shook his head. ‘We’ve not mustered everyone yet. The Carpathia will sweep over the site and then return to New York so I suggest you go down into the dining room and take instruction from there,’ he ordered. ‘There will be a service of remembrance shortly.’
    ‘But this lady needs new clothes, as you can see,’ Celeste insisted.
    ‘The women passengers aboard will see to that when you go below deck. This is no place to be out with a baby,’ he insisted. ‘Everything you need is down there.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Celeste muttered as the officer rushed to another group of survivors.
    May was reluctant to descend. ‘I can’t go down there. I can’t move.’
    ‘I’ll help you down. Let me take little Ella. She’s such a picture,’ she said. ‘So dark . . . not a bit like you.’ Celeste paused, hoping she didn’t take offence. May was the sort of girl you would never notice in a crowd. Celeste could read the panic on her face as she relived terrible memories.
    ‘Joe was dark. They said there was gypsy blood way back when the weavers walked,’ May replied, not looking at her. It was an effort to say her husband’s name out loud.
    ‘Really? Those eyes are as dark as coal. My son, Roderick, is so fair his eyes are almost silver. He’s safe at home with his father. I was back in England attending my mother’s funeral in Lichfield.’ Celeste stopped in her tracks. She didn’t normally tell strangers her business but they were hardly strangers now. They had shared the worst a person could face. ‘Do call me Celeste . . . I’m afraid my parents got carried away. I was the last, the only girl in a tribe of brothers, and my mother thanked the heavens for my appearance!’
    ‘I’m sorry about your mother. It must be a wrench to live so far from home,’ May replied as she gingerly took one step at a time below deck.
    ‘Papa is well cared for with the other retired clergyman in Cathedral Close. I have to go back to be with my little boy. He’s only two and I’ve missed him so much.’
    ‘We were heading out to somewhere in Idaho. I had the address but it’s gone now. Where’s Akron?’ May, clutching the baby, edged down the corridor to a door opening into a