My Clarity

Chapter four

Rose sat in front of the dressing table mirror, staring at her pale reflection. Her hair hung loose in matted red curls, awaiting to be brushed. Her eyes were filled with a combination of fear and confusion. She had come so close to escaping her suffocating life, so very close. She had puzzled over whether it was a good thing that Mr. Dawson had convinced her not to jump from the ship, and that he had done her a favour in saving her life when she slipped on her beaded dress. Part of her was disappointed that she hadn't just been left to fall. That part was growing quieter and quieter as she thought. As her senses seemed to be awakened, somehow, as though they had been dormant for a little while.

Rose's thoughts were all of Mr. Dawson; especially how he had come to compel her with just the intensity of his gaze. How her entire universe had shaken just with his entrance into her world and then, she was also passionately infuriated with how he had simply removed his garments, one by one, slowly, as though it wasn't intoxicating enough to be in a presence of a man, who had not just stirred her stomach but her mind, too. Cal was a man who never stirred such a slight tumble of her tummy and her mind, well that, as refined as it was, had been made clear that it was as much use as mice were. There would never be a need for her to form an opinion, or to feel passionate about something aside from the colour of the flowers, or her gowns but, something had occurred, just temporally her melancholy had lifted, and she had been infuriated with a near stranger and then terrified by his very presence. It was unsettling to wonder why either had stirred within moments of the other.

Rose's own life was laid before her like a formal banquet. The further the Titanic sailed, the closer she was to becoming Cal's wife. The closer she was to being permanently trapped. The closer to the edge of something she felt would change her forever for the worst.

Both, she and Mr. Dawson, were at such opposite ends of the spectrum that it was almost a wonder as to the purpose of their meeting outside of society walls. What 'proper' male would be outdoors so late unaccompanied by a soul? One who seemed to be very straight, not one for prying on young girls as he so could have been accused of if Rowe had not taken his word so easily. Then, what 'proper' girl would be outside so late, also? It seemed to relate to a meeting which one would read of in a silly dime novel of which her mother hated her reading so often. It did feel to be a meeting of which one should be unable to forget, well, until Cal had invited Mr. Dawson to dinner the next evening, perhaps to indulge in a little light teasing rather than the real reason; to repay the debt to the young man for saving the life of his fiancé. Of course, the real reasons for their fateful meeting would never be revealed fully.

Rose opened her music box, and a sweet melody filled the air. It reminded her of the childhood innocence which felt to have melted away into adolescence. She was now groomed to be a perfect bride for a rich aristocrat; she was taught everything a well brought up woman should know, and social etiquette was drummed into her from a very young age. Despite this, she was still quite innocent of it all. When she was younger, she had no idea about the grand plans her parents schemed for her. Rose picked up her hand mirror and she looked at her reflection closely. She was seventeen. She was hardly out of her childhood and yet she felt so old at that moment. So weary, as though by knowing her future she had no need for energy and enthusiasm. However, as soon as she thought of the man who had saved her, she felt and saw her cheeks brightening, and something sparkled in her eyes. The first time her eyes had fully met his, she had felt something stir in her stomach, something which fluttered about almost like a loose butterfly. Under the dim light of the decks, she was struck by how blue they had been. He had dazzled her and now, examining the situation, she wondered if that had been the fore reason of her clumsy footing and the terror of the fall. Yes, it had been terribly heroic of him to help her, perhaps the most wonderful thing to ever happen to--