Fumbling Toward Ecstasy

Chapter 20 - What Might've Been

Brynne arrived at the Grand Staircase on D-deck and found that her tour group had already assembled. She wasn't late, but with the whole group already there, it certainly felt that way. Ruth DeWitt Bukater, The Countess of Rothes, and Lucile Duff Gordon were huddled in a little group when Brynne descended the stairs. Colonel Archibald Gracie was with them. When he cleared his throat, the women all looked in the direction of the stairs. Brynne imagined that there was something conspiratorial behind those polite smiles, but she pushed the negative thoughts away and posted on a smile of her own as she continued her descent onto the deck.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Brynne said. "And gentleman."

"I've invited Colonel Gracie to join us," Ruth said. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not in the least," Brynne said. "The tour is meant to appeal to women, but it is, by no means, meant to be exclusive. I'm happy to have you with us, Colonel Gracie." Brynne didn't miss the look that passed between Gracie and Ruth. She couldn't let go of the feeling that she was somehow being set up for something. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Brynne led the way as they left the Grand Staircase. She opened the door and led the group into a short corridor. "This corridor leads to the Reading and Writing room and the Lounge," she said. "We'll be visiting the Reading and Writing room first."

Brynne stopped at the only door on the right and gently pushed it open. Her group followed her through it.

"This is our Reading and Writing room," Brynne began in her best tour guide voice. "It's designed in the Georgian style and is intended to serve as a special retreat for Titanic's women passengers, much like the Smoking Room is a distinctively male area. The Lounge, on the other hand, was intended for use by our male and female passengers. It's just next door to the right and will be our next stop on the tour," Brynne said, ushering the little group out of the room.

"It certainly doesn't appear to be a very busy room," Lucile observed on her way out.

"There aren't nearly as many people here as there are in the Smoking Room at any given point of the day," Gracie commented.

"It hasn't been as popular as we'd hoped," Brynne admitted. "It's one of the reasons we're conducting these tours. We want to make people aware of everything the Titanic has to offer."

They reached the double-door entrance to the First-Class Lounge and entered. "This is our lounge, designed in the style of Louis XVI," Brynne began. "It's based on the Palace at Versailles, to be specific. One of the highlights of this particular room is its height. At 12 feet, 3 inches high, the Lounge's ceiling has one of the highest clearances of all the rooms aboard the Titanic. The lounge also serves as a lending library of sorts. You'll notices the large bookcase at the far end of the room. You can also take light refreshments or tea while you enjoy your book or relax with friends."

"I've noticed that the fireplace in this room is never lit," Gracie said. "The one in the Smoking room is always burning."

"That's because the fireplace in this room, as well as the one in the Reading and Writing room, were designed to be aesthetic focal points more than anything else," Brynne explained. "The ship's specifications don't allow for real, fully functioning fireplaces in these rooms."

"The Smoking Room fireplace is real," Gracie said. "How does that room accommodate a real fireplace when these do not?"

"The answer is a bit technical in nature," Brynne replied. "I'd be more than happy to discuss it, but I wouldn't want to bore the rest of the group with a lengthy explanation."

"Actually, I'm very interested in hearing the answer," Ruth said. "If that's possible."

Ruth allowed herself a small smile and exchanged a quick glance with Lucile. Exposing Brynne Andrews for a fake was going to be too easy, especially with Gracie along for the ride. He wasn't in on her little plan with Lucile, but his know-it-all personality was a huge help. Ruth had known that when she'd invited him along. She'd gambled that he was bound to ask all kinds of nitpicky little questions, and he certainly wouldn't hesitate to object to information he believed to be incorrect. Her assumptions about the colonel would be correct, it seemed.