He returned the hug, laughing. “You know, that doesn’t surprise me. I’ve often thought people consider ocean liners to be just a playground.”
“What happens at sea stays at sea?” She teased him, continuing her caress.
He looked embarrassed. “Sort of.”
They went up another ladder to G Deck. Here, there were portholes that let in more light. They had to step around construction debris, but he showed her crew and third class quarters with bunks attached to walls. There was more storage, the Squash Racquet Court for First Class, and the continuation of the engines, boiler rooms and coalbunkers. At a juncture between rooms, he paused and pointed upward.
“Watertight doors.” His face was thoughtful, then he smiled sardonically at her. “A victory of sorts. Normally, we would not have them on this deck.”
She returned his smile, but made no comment. She didn’t want to think about the sinking, right now.
This deck had the beginnings of the spiral staircases, fore and aft, and Casey paused to stare in amazement when they reached the aft stairway.
“This is amazing, Tom. I’ve seen you work, I helped with Adriatic and I thought that ship was incredible. But how do you do this?” She ran her hand along the detailed carving of the rail.
“It’s a talented workforce,” he murmured, standing behind her. He placed his hand on hers and followed it over the carving. Her body throbbed briefly at the sensual feel of the wood, and of his hand. She settled herself against him, teasing him with her hip. He rubbed against her, nibbling the top of her ear before he released her and guided her up the stairs.
At the next deck, he pulled her into a long kiss. She pressed against him in response to his hand on her bottom, the material of her skirt and petticoats sliding under his caress. She almost couldn’t look at the ship, anymore.
“F Deck,” he whispered, drawing her attention to the hull, then speaking normally. “Or sometimes called the Middle Deck. Directly along the hull, we have coal chutes that feed into the bunkers below.”
They continued arm-in-arm down the hallway. “Crew and Third Class Cabins, the swimming pool and a Turkish Bath.” They paused in front of an empty room. “This will be a kennel. For those passengers who must have their dogs along.”
They turned into the Turkish Bath and she gasped in delight at the marble tile and brass fixtures in the mirrored sitting room. The shampoo rooms had large chairs that lay back to reach the deep sinks behind them. The spa had marble benches nestled among steam vents and a space for heated rocks. The mirrors in the dressing rooms reflected all the glory around them.
“You know,” she whispered, snuggling against him, “you could get in trouble showing me these things. I’m going to expect the same thing at home.”
“I’d build it for you.” His voice was husky and his caresses became more insistent, demanding her attention. She let him lift her onto a massage table, leaning forward to kiss him. He returned her kiss, then stepped back to lift her foot and slowly unlace her shoe. She caressed his hands and arms, but was unable to reach any further than that. So she began to tease him, lifting her skirt by inches until it reached her thighs. He grinned as the skirt rose, and when her shoe was off, he ran his hands up her leg, squeezing her thigh as he bent to kiss her. She took advantage of the chance to unbutton his vest and shirt, before he moved away with a teasing smile to work on the other shoe.
She giggled in frustration, but got even by using the shoeless foot to stroke him, moving up his leg with light touches of her toe. At the same time, she began to open the buttons on her blouse. He went a little faster with the laces on the second shoe.
The sun had moved more to the west when they finally made their way down the grand staircase, to pause at the entrance of the paneled first-class dining room. Casey was speechless to find a table set with the best White Star dishes and tablecloth. The table stood next to a wooden beam carved with musical notes and a detailed lyre. It commanded a view of the grand staircase, curving upward to a huge round skylight.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathed in disbelief.
Tom was laughing softly, his face bright with the pleasure he was bringing her. He gestured grandly. “Madam, your table,” and pulled out her chair to help her sit.
She curtsied to him and sat regally, then giggled in delight as he lit the candles with a flourish. Motioning for her to wait, he disappeared through a doorway, while she sat in bewilderment.
He returned in a few minutes with a cart laden with dishes. She laughed as he uncovered a variety of cold dishes and placed them before her, comically checking the name of the dish against a card placed next to each one.
“Poached salmon with fennel relish,” he declared, eyebrow raised as if daring her to deny it. “Scalloped potato, cheddar and chive pie—you know, that looks pretty good. Asparagus with parsley gremolata—hmpf.” He was not big on vegetables. “And for dessert—the lovely lady’s favorite: chocolate mousse!”
She clapped with delight, then rose and kissed him soundly. “You are the most amazing man in the world, my love. How did you do all this?”
“Me? You know I don’t cook like this!” He smiled wickedly at her. “I,” he stressed, “know people.”
He had one more surprise for her, presenting in grand fashion, a chilled bottle of French Chardonnay. He did his best to share it with her, but since he didn’t drink, he didn’t care for it, and managed no more than about half a glass. She assured him it was all right. “I’m a little out of practice, myself, you know. We’ll take any leftovers home to Sam.”
He agreed this was a good idea and if they felt tipsy at all, they walked it off by completing their tour. They ended at the boat deck stern, gazing at the setting sun, as the lights of Belfast came on and sparkled on the Lagan.
Chapter 36
April 1911
Heading into Monday evening’s cold darkness, Sam turned left to start the walk home. He liked the exercise as long as it wasn’t raining. Shifting his briefcase to the other hand, he looked up in surprise as he nearly bumped into Colin Riley, who looked just as surprised as Sam.
“Dr. Altair.” Riley blinked, but recovered before Sam. “I was just on my way to see you.”
“You were?” Sam was first astonished, then confused. “I thought you were at a conference.”
Riley shrugged. “Plans changed. Do you have some time to spare? My flat is nearby, I can offer you some tea.”
Sam didn’t bother to hide his bewilderment. “Why? What would you possibly want to discuss?”
The wind whipped Riley’s coat open and he pulled it closed, his lips tightening. “I have a proposition, sir. I won’t pretend that I’m not reluctant to pursue this, but its importance is greater than my pride.” He held out a gloved hand. “Please. I assure you, it’s quite important. An hour of your time, at most.”
Feeling like Alice—curiouser and curiouser—Sam reluctantly agreed and walked with Riley the five blocks to his flat. Riley offered no further conversation and Sam could think of nothing to say himself.
Unlike his office, Riley’s apartment was neat and clean. It was sparsely furnished with heavy Victorian pieces over a dark rug. The electric lights were dim, and the fire that Riley lit added welcome light and warmth to the room.
Riley was solicitous and anxious, hanging Sam’s coat and hat on a rack, and setting the water to boil after he got the fire going. He brought out some small sandwiches, “to cut your appetite, since you’re postponing your dinner.” Sam ate a couple, sipping tea as Riley brought out several sheets of paper and sat in the chair opposite Sam.