DANGEROUS GAMES
Chapter Three

The next morning came all too soon for Savannah. Rolling over, she found herself alone in her bedroom.

"Jane!" Savannah called out into the empty room.

The door opened swiftly and Jane marched in. "Good morning, ma’am. Did you sleep well?" Jane asked as she gathered Savannah’s clothing for breakfast.

Savannah yawned and stretched her arms high above her head before answering. "Yes, actually, I did. Tell me, Jane, do you know what time Bruce retired to his room?"

Jane shook her head. "No, ma’am. I’m not sure," she said as she drew a bath for Savannah.

Savannah piled her hair on top of her head and sat on the edge of the porcelain bathtub. As the basin filled, she ran her fingertips through the mountains of bubbles that floated at the rim. Savannah handed her nightgown off to Jane as she stepped over the lip of the tub and into the water. Jane had just returned Savannah’s nightgown and robe to the wardrobe when there was a faint tapping on the door.

"Excuse me, ma’am," Jane said with a small curtsey before exiting. Savannah sighed and sunk deeper into her bath. In a moment, Jane returned. "Ma’am, there’s a Miss Rose DeWitt Bukater here. Shall I ask her to return later?"

Savannah smiled brightly at the mention of Rose and jumped to her feet. Jane grabbed Savannah’s robe from the wardrobe and assisted in covering her completely before allowing Savannah to leave the privacy of her bedroom.

Out on the promenade, Rose stood by the window, watching the sea spray below.

"Rose, I wasn’t expecting you," Savannah said as stepped through the doorway and out onto the bright promenade deck.

Rose smiled suspiciously and asked, "Did I interrupt something?"

Savannah laughed quietly and said, "Goodness, no. I was just about to take a bath." A look of relief came over Rose’s face as she and Savannah sat down in the wicker deck chairs.

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Jane served tea. Once she had gone, Savannah spoke up. "I can’t do this anymore, Rose."

Rose placed her teacup back into the saucer and asked, "Can’t do what?"

Savannah rested her forehead in her palm and replied, "I can’t see Thomas anymore. Bruce knows. I can feel it."

Rose shook her head and said, "If he knew, I think he would say something, don’t you?" Savannah stood and walked towards the windows, all the while shaking her head.

"How can I do this to him, Rose? He’s been nothing but kind and loving to me, and what do I do? I carry on with another man. His colleague, no less! My God, I’m despicable!" Savannah finished with a loud cry of anguish and anger.

Rose jumped from her seat and scuttled over to where Savannah stood, tears welling in her eyes. "Savannah, listen to me. Bruce may love you or he may not. But do you love him? At some point, you have to stop thinking about others and focus on what is best for you."

Savannah backed away from Rose. "This needs to stop," Savannah whispered to herself.

Rose’s eyes watched Savannah anxiously. Savannah’s hands were in her hair, gripping it for dear life. "Savannah, listen to me," Rose began, slowly approaching Savannah in an attempt to calm her.

Savannah backed away from Rose, still shaking her head. "Jane!" Savannah shouted as she stumbled from the promenade to the sitting room to her bedroom. Rose followed her closely, as did Jane.

"Ma’am, what is it?" Jane asked from behind Savannah.

"I need to dress. Quickly, please," Savannah uttered as she tossed her robe aside and stepped into her undergarments.

Jane, eyes wide, nodded and began lacing Savannah into her corset as quickly as she could. Rose stood in the doorway, watching as Savannah dressed.

"Savannah, what are you doing?" Rose asked as Jane pinned Savannah’s hair up.

"I need to talk to Thomas," Savannah said quickly as she struggled with her shoes. Grabbing her shawl as she passed the front door, Savannah made her way down the hall towards the grand staircase.

Once she reached the door to Thomas’ stateroom, all of Savannah’s courage and resolve seemed to leave her. She stood outside the door for what seemed like hours before finally tapping gently. In a few moments, a young steward opened the door.

"Is Mr. Andrews in?" Savannah asked, loud enough for only the young man to hear.

He shook his head and replied, "No, ma’am, I’m sorry. Mr. Andrews has gone to meet with Captain Smith. Would you like to leave a message for him?"

Savannah shook her head and left without another word, making her way towards the boat deck.

The sun outside was overwhelming at first. As Savannah’s eyes adjusted to the abundance of light, she began to see other passengers enjoying the morning air. She walked briskly through the many people milling around on the deck.

Don’t you people have anything better to do than stand around like mindless cattle? Savannah wondered to herself as she slid past another gaggle of gossiping women. Finally, she reached the bridge, where she saw Thomas and Captain Smith talking beneath the roof of the wheelhouse. She slowed her pace and straightened out her dress and shawl before approaching them.

"Mr. Andrews, Captain," she greeted with a smile.

Both gentlemen looked up and smiled at her. The captain took her hand and gave it a slight kiss, as did Thomas.

"Mrs. Ismay," Captain Smith said genially. "So nice to see you this morning. What brings you up here?"

Savannah smiled at the kind old man and said, "Actually, Captain, I was hoping I could have a word with Mr. Andrews, once you have concluded your business with him, of course."

Captain Smith nodded and said, "Certainly. Mr. Andrews, I will see you at dinner this evening?"

Thomas nodded to Captain Smith and, after bidding him a pleasant afternoon, turned his attention to Savannah.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Ismay?" Thomas asked as they made their way down the crowded boat deck.

"Mr. Andrews, I need to speak with you privately," Savannah said firmly, her eyes revealing every emotion coursing through her.

Thomas nodded and led her through the first class entrance and into the deserted reading and writing room. Once again, Savannah found herself lacking the courage to speak to him. Her eyes darted around the room and finally came to rest on the floor. Thomas put his hand on her shoulder and leaned down until their eyes met.

"Savannah, what’s wrong?" Thomas asked as he tried to catch her eyes.

Again, she looked away, unable to face him. "Thomas," she began. "I can’t do this anymore."

Thomas was confused. He watched Savannah pace for a moment before asking, "Can’t do what, sweetheart?"

Savannah stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around to face Thomas. "I’m not your sweetheart, Thomas!" she bellowed at him. "I’m married!" She stopped and took a deep breath before continuing in a softer voice. "I love my husband, Thomas. I can’t see you anymore."

She kept her eyes glued to the floor as Thomas slowly nodded his head in understanding. "Very well," he said. He took Savannah’s hand, kissed it softly, and said, "Have a pleasant afternoon, Mrs. Ismay."

Savannah stood in the middle of the deserted room and watched him walk away. She could feel the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. For a moment, she contemplated stopping him before he reached the door, but when she opened her mouth, her voice was gone, as was her self-control. Savannah broke down. She collapsed in a chair by the fireplace and cried softly to herself. She hid her face from people who passed by her, hoping no one would recognize her.

"Savannah?"

She raised her head from her hands and blinked away the tears. She saw Bruce kneeling before her, his hand on her knee and concern in his eyes. She looked away from him in shame.

"Come, darling, let’s go back to our stateroom," he said as he helped her out of the chair.

She nodded to him and took his arm. As they exited the room, Savannah saw Thomas leaning against the railing of the ship, staring off into the waves.

Down in their stateroom, Savannah sat on the sofa in the sitting room while Jane prepared her a cup of tea. Bruce sat in the high-back chair across from Savannah, nursing a brandy.

"Savannah, darling, won’t you tell me what is troubling you?"

Savannah accepted the warm cup from Jane and asked her softly if she could leave them for a moment. Jane curtsied to both before taking her leave to the servant’s quarters. Savannah took a long sip of her tea before placing the cup and saucer on the table before her.

"We need to talk, Bruce."

Bruce placed his snifter next to hers and left his chair to sit next to her.

"Bruce, I must confess something to you," Savannah said, looking Bruce in the eye.

Bruce nodded and coaxed her to continue. "Go on, darling. You can say anything to me," he said softly as his hand began to stroke hers.

Savannah removed her hands gradually as she took one last deep breath. "Bruce, I…I have not been faithful to you," she said softly. So softly, in fact, she was not sure he heard. But he had.

Bruce sat motionless, his eyes fixed upon his youthful bride. In his mind, he was running over every word she had just uttered to him. Unfaithful. Savannah had been unfaithful. He walked towards the mantle, trying to formulate a coherent thought in his head. Savannah followed behind him, but he heard nothing she said.

Savannah watched Bruce as he tried to comprehend what she had just told him.

"Bruce," she said, following him at a distance to the mantle. "Bruce, I’m sorry. I knew it was wrong, but I just…"

Bruce turned from the mirror above the mantle to her and asked in a deep, threatening voice, "Who?"

Savannah stepped back for a second and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, who?" she asked him, mystified at his current state of calm.

Bruce looked her in the eye and began to approach her. "Who was it? Who were you seeing?" he bellowed, causing Savannah’s muscles to tense up in fear.

Savannah shook her head and replied to him with as much courage as she could muster, "No one of consequence."

Bruce’s eyes grew wide with rage. Savannah stood before him defiantly, refusing to give him the name of her paramour. Without warning, Bruce’s hand flew out and collided with Savannah’s cheek. Savannah dropped to her knees, causing the sofa to crash into the table, spilling tea and brandy across the floor. Bruce looked down at Savannah for a moment, rage still glowing in his eyes.

"Have this cleaned up and then dress for lunch," he said coldly before leaving the room, being sure to slam the door behind him.

As soon as Bruce was gone, Jane rushed into the room. As Savannah tried to stand, Jane stooped down to assist her. Once she was up, Savannah saw the mess she had made.

"I’m so sorry, Jane," Savannah began as she picked up her empty cup and saucer. "I was being careless."

Jane took the cup and saucer from Savannah and put them back on the table. "Come, ma’am. Let’s get you ready for lunch," Jane said, leading Savannah into her bedroom.

*****

As Jane fastened the back of her dress, Savannah could feel her face bruising. Jane noticed it, too, but said nothing.

"Jane, is there anything you can do about this?" Savannah asked hopefully.

Jane sat Savannah down at her vanity and began to apply some extra cosmetics to Savannah’s now purple cheek. As Jane finished with covering Savannah’s face, a knock sounded at her bedroom door. Savannah remained in her seat and waited as Jane answered the door.

"Sir," Jane greeted with a curtsey. "Mrs. Ismay is ready for you."

Jane stepped aside so Bruce could enter and then exited, closing the door softly behind her. Savannah could see Bruce in her mirror. Her pulse quickened as his hand grazed her shoulder and ran up her arm. Bruce felt her muscles tense and dropped his arm to his side.

"Are you ready for lunch?" he asked her softly, extending his hand to her.

Savannah only nodded and stood, taking his arm once she was erect.

Once they were in the hallway, Bruce tried to make amends.

"I’m sorry," he said to her calmly. "I lost my temper earlier. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?"

Savannah looked into his eyes and saw that he was genuinely remorseful. Without a sound, she nodded her head. Bruce kept his eyes on her.

"Please, I need to hear you say it," he entreated.

This time, Savannah kept her eyes trained ahead of her when she said, "I forgive you."

Bruce nodded happily at his newfound forgiveness, but found there was still one thing plaguing him.

"Why won’t you tell me who he is?" Bruce asked as they descended the grand staircase.

Savannah shook her head vigorously and replied angrily, "No, Bruce. I will not tell you who he is. It is of no consequence whether or not you know."

They walked on in silence for a few moments before Bruce revived the conversation.

"Do I know him?"

Savannah dropped her hold on Bruce’s arm and said, "Excuse me. I’ll join you in a moment," before storming off to the powder room.

Savannah stared at her reflection in the gilded mirror that hung on the wall before her. She could clearly see that Jane’s hard work was in vain. The purple of Savannah’s cheek was now clearly showing through. She contemplated skipping lunch; running back to her stateroom and hiding her face in shame.

No, she said to herself silently. Wear it proudly. Show them what that man is capable of. Savannah smoothed her dress and hair quickly. With a little water, she washed the excess powder from her cheek, allowing the bruise to shine in all its unspeakable glory. With one last look in the mirror, Savannah made her way to the dining saloon to meet her party.

As she approached, Bruce, Thomas, and Rose’s fiancé, Cal, rose from their seats. Savannah smiled gracefully as she was introduced to Caledon Hockley, the handsome man Rose was to marry. After greeting him, Savannah turned to Thomas. She could feel his eyes on her face, converging on her bruising cheek.

"Mr. Andrews," she greeted solemnly, extending her hand to him.

He kissed it softly and said, "Mrs. Ismay. Nice to see you this afternoon."

She nodded to him and silently willed him to stop gawking at her face.

Throughout lunch, Savannah and Rose sat silently while the gentlemen discussed the ship. Savannah could feel Rose’s eyes on her, but she refused to look. When she did raise her eyes from her plate, all she saw was Thomas. His eyes were full of concern for her. Soon, lunch was over and they were dispersing. Bruce and Cal were off to the smoking room. As they walked away, Rose approached Savannah.

"What happened?" Rose asked as they made their way to the boat deck.

Savannah did not offer an answer. It was a rhetorical question. Rose already knew what had happened. Anyone who looked at Savannah’s face could read the entire story. Her husband, the man her mother had trusted her to, had hit her.

They were almost to the door that led out to the deck when they were stopped.

"Savannah," she heard from behind her.

She turned and saw Thomas waiting about five feet behind her.

"Mr. Andrews," she said with a nod before starting to walk again. She heard his footsteps quicken behind her and stopped again when she felt his hand on her shoulder. "What is it, Thomas?" she asked just above a whisper.

He took her by the elbow and pulled her towards the wall before asking, "What happened?"

Savannah unconsciously brought a hand up to her cheek while she thought of a convincing lie she could tell him.

"Nothing," she said. "It was an accident."

Thomas moved her hand to the side and gently slid his fingertips over the swollen area. "He hit you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Savannah finally gave in. "It was my fault. I told him I had been unfaithful. When I wouldn’t tell him who I was seeing, he lost his temper."

Thomas shook his head and said, "I’m going to tell him it was me."

Thomas began to walk away towards the smoking room, but Savannah reached out and stopped him.

"No, Thomas. Please, don’t. We’ve already talked about it. He apologized."

Thomas looked into her eyes as she pleaded with him. He let out a heavy sigh and finally agreed. She was about to rejoin Rose when Thomas stopped her again.

She looked him in the eyes as he asked her, "Did I do something wrong?"

Savannah shook her head and replied, "No. I did wrong in bringing you into this."

With that final remark, she turned her back on him and joined Rose on the boat deck.

Chapter Four
Stories