Beaumont's passenger trains.
As if that were not enough, a steward appeared and held out an envelope. "Mr. Ancell, sir. The captain requested I give you this."
John nodded, unable to catch his breath for a moment.
The captain's regrets would be easier to deliver in a note than face-to-face with Cyril Beaumont's daughter.
Or, he wondered, taking out a folded piece of fine quality paper . . .
Is it Christmas?
11
E veryone at the table, except little Henry, turned their faces toward John, awaiting his response about the note. Lydia shot eye arrows at him, but he stared at the note, and after heaving a heavy sigh, he passed it to her.
"Iiieee," Lydia squealed, then grimaced. Phoebe giggled.
"Oh, I know what that is," Caroline said, "but what does it say? I'm assuming it's about your wedding."
Lydia pretended to be nonchalant. "It's only a formal invitation to dine at Captain Smith's table this evening in the À la Carte Restaurant." But she felt euphoric and read it aloud.
To
Mr. John Ancell and Miss Lydia Beaumont
It would be my distinct honor
If you would dine at my table
in the À la Carte Restaurant
RMS Titanic
Saturday, April 13, 1912
From
Edward J. Smith, Captain
P.S.
Mr. Craven Dowd will be welcome,
along with a few friends of your choice
Her first thought was Why Craven? But of course, Craven had sailed with her father many times. He'd been with her and John during most meals. The three of them were obviously traveling together.
"You know what that must mean?" said Lady Lavinia.
"Let's see," Lydia said innocently, "it means he admires my father, who will sail with no other captain?"
Lady Lavinia clicked her tongue. "As long as nothing interferes with whatever makes the passengers happy, it will be done."
Caroline scoffed, "What on earth, I mean what on the sea, could be more important than a wedding on this grand ship?"
Lydia appreciated their playfulness. She'd witnessed the excitement and the nerves of friends anticipating their wedding, the plans that had to be made, the wondering daily if all was going to fall through. Some threatened to elope. "In case we can do this," she said tentatively, "I'll need help."
Before the words left her mouth, Lady Lavinia said, "Done." Caroline touched her arm. "Of course."
Lydia held up the invitation. "The captain said for us to invite friends of our choice. Would you join us?"
"Already on my agenda, dear," Lady Lavinia said.
"On mine now," Caroline added.
"I would be honored," Phoebe said, like a confident young lady.
All eyes turned to her.
"Weren't you planning to be with some of the young girls in the sidewalk café this evening?" her father asked.
Her dark curls bounced with the shake of her head. She looked at her crystal water glass, demurely picked it up, and took a sip.
Unsure of what to say, Lydia smiled at Phoebe, then noticed a steward nearby. "Should we order?"
While others were discussing who had eaten what, she perused the menu and noticed there were twice as many delectable items in the buffet column than for the luncheon and grill combined. "It all looks so good."
Sensing a movement, she looked over at John. He discreetly placed two fingers against his cheek. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes seemed to say they had their own private joke.
It was no joke, but she felt a delighted tickle in her throat. Yes, she was eating for two. She decided on the fillets of brill.
After ordering, Caroline asked Phoebe if she had a favorite part of the ship.
"The French sidewalk restaurant," Phoebe said immediately. "It's nicer here than in Paris." She paused. "And I like the band."
"Our Phoebe is quite an accomplished pianist," Lady Lavinia said proudly. "Little Henry, on the other hand, is much like his father at that age, still trying to figure out what makes things work."
"Henry, do you have anything favorite on the ship?" Lydia asked.
He nodded. "The camel."
"Oh, you've ridden a real camel?"
He
As if that were not enough, a steward appeared and held out an envelope. "Mr. Ancell, sir. The captain requested I give you this."
John nodded, unable to catch his breath for a moment.
The captain's regrets would be easier to deliver in a note than face-to-face with Cyril Beaumont's daughter.
Or, he wondered, taking out a folded piece of fine quality paper . . .
Is it Christmas?
11
E veryone at the table, except little Henry, turned their faces toward John, awaiting his response about the note. Lydia shot eye arrows at him, but he stared at the note, and after heaving a heavy sigh, he passed it to her.
"Iiieee," Lydia squealed, then grimaced. Phoebe giggled.
"Oh, I know what that is," Caroline said, "but what does it say? I'm assuming it's about your wedding."
Lydia pretended to be nonchalant. "It's only a formal invitation to dine at Captain Smith's table this evening in the À la Carte Restaurant." But she felt euphoric and read it aloud.
To
Mr. John Ancell and Miss Lydia Beaumont
It would be my distinct honor
If you would dine at my table
in the À la Carte Restaurant
RMS Titanic
Saturday, April 13, 1912
From
Edward J. Smith, Captain
P.S.
Mr. Craven Dowd will be welcome,
along with a few friends of your choice
Her first thought was Why Craven? But of course, Craven had sailed with her father many times. He'd been with her and John during most meals. The three of them were obviously traveling together.
"You know what that must mean?" said Lady Lavinia.
"Let's see," Lydia said innocently, "it means he admires my father, who will sail with no other captain?"
Lady Lavinia clicked her tongue. "As long as nothing interferes with whatever makes the passengers happy, it will be done."
Caroline scoffed, "What on earth, I mean what on the sea, could be more important than a wedding on this grand ship?"
Lydia appreciated their playfulness. She'd witnessed the excitement and the nerves of friends anticipating their wedding, the plans that had to be made, the wondering daily if all was going to fall through. Some threatened to elope. "In case we can do this," she said tentatively, "I'll need help."
Before the words left her mouth, Lady Lavinia said, "Done." Caroline touched her arm. "Of course."
Lydia held up the invitation. "The captain said for us to invite friends of our choice. Would you join us?"
"Already on my agenda, dear," Lady Lavinia said.
"On mine now," Caroline added.
"I would be honored," Phoebe said, like a confident young lady.
All eyes turned to her.
"Weren't you planning to be with some of the young girls in the sidewalk café this evening?" her father asked.
Her dark curls bounced with the shake of her head. She looked at her crystal water glass, demurely picked it up, and took a sip.
Unsure of what to say, Lydia smiled at Phoebe, then noticed a steward nearby. "Should we order?"
While others were discussing who had eaten what, she perused the menu and noticed there were twice as many delectable items in the buffet column than for the luncheon and grill combined. "It all looks so good."
Sensing a movement, she looked over at John. He discreetly placed two fingers against his cheek. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes seemed to say they had their own private joke.
It was no joke, but she felt a delighted tickle in her throat. Yes, she was eating for two. She decided on the fillets of brill.
After ordering, Caroline asked Phoebe if she had a favorite part of the ship.
"The French sidewalk restaurant," Phoebe said immediately. "It's nicer here than in Paris." She paused. "And I like the band."
"Our Phoebe is quite an accomplished pianist," Lady Lavinia said proudly. "Little Henry, on the other hand, is much like his father at that age, still trying to figure out what makes things work."
"Henry, do you have anything favorite on the ship?" Lydia asked.
He nodded. "The camel."
"Oh, you've ridden a real camel?"
He
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