I, myself, moved through the Reception Room and into the Grand Dining Saloon; I saw it through one of the bulkhead windows;: a vast room filled with, what seemed to be, countless tables and chairs! I watched wealthy men shaking hands, and laughing loudly; women huddling together and embracing each other as if they were long separated friends come together again for the maiden voyage. I was so nervous, I almost felt too nauseated to eat; there was no one in first-class that I knew, and I was not looking forward to sitting by myself, knowing it would attract attention. There was nothing for it: I had to insert myself somewhere in hopes of being invited to sit with someone, so I looked around for the friendliest group I could find, and then approached it meekly.

“Hello,” I said as I came to one of the woman with my hand outstretched. “My name is Victoria; do we know each other?”

“Why no,” said the lady, taking my hand, “I couldn’t forget a pretty face like yours! My name is Molly; everyone seems to recognize this face of mine; don’t be embarrassed. Where in England do you hail from? Your accent betrays you.”

“From London, Madame,” I answered. “I’m on my way to America to see the Grand Canyon.”

“Oh, love,” she returned with a very comforting smile, “You are in for a treat! If you think Titanic is gorgeous, you’ve not seen anything yet!”

“I’m so looking forward to it,” I remarked with a laugh, feeling more at ease after finding someone to talk to. “I’m making this trip alone, would you mind if I sat with you to eat? I don’t want to feel awkward sitting by myself.”

“I insist,” she replied, taking me by the arm and walking with me to her table, “The food here is said to rival the most expensive restaurant menus in the world; from the smell of it, I don’t doubt it!”

“My mouth is a torrent of expectation,” I concurred. “It smells positively wonderful! Thank you so much.”

“You’re so welcome, love.”

I came a short while later to learn that the lady’s proper name was Margaret Brown; my knowledge of famous and wealthy American people was very limited at the time, so all I gathered about her was that she was a woman of some influence, and that she had, what seemed to me, a heart of gold.

It was uncomfortable sitting at the table with her and numerous other first-class passengers who seemed very curious about me; all of whom, apparently, never heard a name like Belcourte. I managed to keep my disguise in tact, however: convincing them that I was, indeed, the daughter of a wealthy English family on my way to America for a time of much needed adventure.

“I wager you have a very comfortable life at home,” said one of the men at the table, whose name, I was told later, was John Astor, “Why would you leave all that for road-tripping in another country?”

“Boredom, sir,” I answered with a shy grin. “Seeing the world is a dream of mine; it’s not all fun and sport being the daughter of wealthy parents: restrictions, expectations, dolls, dresses; I want more from life than that.”

“Well,” said he, “You certainly don’t speak as most young ladies do! How old are you? If I may ask, of course?”

“Eighteen,” I answered. “I know, I don’t look it.”

“You most certainly do not,” interjected Mrs. Brown. “Are you an only child?”

“Mmm,” I unintentionally sounded after sipping some delicious broth from my plate. “Yes, Madame: I have no siblings.”

The food was spectacular; I had not eaten a decent meal since the day my parents and I parted in Romania; Marku and I had to eat rations during our harrowing quest to reach the Titanic; and to be able to sit down to that sumptuous and plentiful meal in the warmth and comfort of a floating palace was, well, a wondrous gift for my damaged morale.

“I’m sure your parents lavish you with enough love for five siblings,” she returned. “You have such a wonderful disposition, young lady! It’s a testament to their character and capacity as parents.”

“Thank you, madame,” I replied, turning to her with a smile. “Really, thank you! They are amazing parents; I couldn’t have asked for better.”

Unbeknownst to me, there was a young man sitting at the adjacent table with another group of first-class passengers who had been watching me. When one of the men at our table excused himself to have a cigar with two others from another table, the young man came and sat in the chair left by him, which was directly across from me.

“Mrs. Brown,” he greeted, giving her a polite, but eager grin, then turning to me. “Belcourte is a very unusual name, indeed; it’s quite stately. My name is Thomas Cramer, madame; tell me, what does your father do?”

“He’s a real estate tycoon,” I answered. “Why do you inquire?”

“I just,” he hesitated, then smiled. “Never heard the name before. I find it remarkable that a wealthy family, one such as yours, is able to stay covert in today’s information age of radio and print. I know every name of wealth and influence in the Western world yet, somehow, not yours; wealth is not something one can hide, as I’m sure you know.”

“Why are you giving this young lady the third degree?” questioned Mrs. Brown. “You’re being very rude!”

“I apologize,” he replied. “I have a good reason for inquiring; I do ask that you indulge me.”

“Whether you’ve heard the name or not,” I interjected, “It’s not impossible for a wealthy family to value and keep their privacy! Whatever darkens your mind about me, I assure you, I am as I appear.”

“I see,” he replied with a grin that cast a double-meaning my way. “Nevertheless, I think I shall be watching you for the duration of this voyage.”

“I think it’s time you left this table,” Mrs. Brown insisted, “Now!”

“With pleasure,” he replied. “I beg your pardon, everyone, for my intrusion.”

I watched as he stood and left the dining saloon; I believed that he couldn’t be an operative since he was so bold, but I had no idea who he was, nor why he should be so suspicious of me.

My nerves were badly frayed at that point, and I felt like retreating to my room to cry it out, but I managed to compose myself and stay, lest anyone at the table begin wondering if he had good reason to suspect me of something.

“That young man has far too much nerve for his own good,” remarked Mrs. Brown rather angrily. “I should find him and give him a good thrashing! Are you alright, my dear?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I’m alright, thank you.”

“Should I tell the Captain about him?” asked Mr. Astor’s young wife.

“No, it’s alright,” I answered. “Please, I would rather not be the cause for any controversy on this ship; my nerves couldn’t take it.”

“Nevertheless,” said Mr. Astor, “I’ll be watching him; the petulant ingrate!”

It was comforting to be showered with such compassion from that group of wealthy strangers, but I had determined to find out why that young man confronted me as he did; something about the encounter felt uniquely opportunistic.

“May I sit with you again?” I asked of Mrs. Brown.

“Of course, love,” she answered with a warm smile and a reassuring caress of my arm, “Meet us here around supper time; we’ll be waiting for you.”

“Thank you, all of you, so much.”

I took my leave of them as casually as I could to avert any unwanted attention; my paranoia greatly rattled me, but I had to maintain the disguise, no matter how I felt.

After leaving the dining saloon and entering the reception area, I moved toward a sofa as quickly as I could and sat down to observe the people coming and going; hoping to catch sight of the petulant ingrate, as Mr. Astor called him. I kept my ears open to the conversations around me as well, hoping to hear anything pertaining to him.

I sat there for nearly half an hour watching and listening, until I heard something about a handsome young man who saved a woman from falling down the stairs on his way to the promenade on A Deck. At this, I stood and hurried toward the staircase to make my way up to that level.

Once my high heels touched the landing just below A Deck, I stopped and looked to my right, then to my left; the promenade encircled both sides of the ship,

“Make a decision, Gabriel,” I whispered to myself. “Go right!”

I turned to my right and ascended the steps, then made my way to the promenade access. Once outside, I stepped forward a little and looked around; there were a few people out there with me and other groups at the far end of the promenade; I didn’t see the young man, however.

I stood there for a moment longer looking left and right down the promenade for any sign of him, and just before I turned to go back through to check the other side, he suddenly stepped out of a nook nearby, then spotted me. I turned and slowly made my way to the overlook as he began to approach me.

“So,” he said gruffly as he came next to me and placed his right hand on the overlook, staring at the side of my face, “You are on this ship for me!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, in my Victoria voice.

“Of course, you do,” he replied, “That little story you heard in the reception room? The woman who nearly took a tumble down the stairs? I asked the one who told that tale to tell it next to you to see if you would follow me up here; sure enough, you’re here!”

“And, here I was thinking you were not the petulant ingrate Mr. Astor thinks you are!”

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Victoria Belcourte,” I answered.

“Bull!”

At that moment, I had had enough of his aggression,

“Look,” I said, turning to him, “I don’t have the slightest idea who you are, and I don’t care who you are! What I care about is going to America to see the Grand Canyon, that is all! You are much too full of yourself if you think that I have even the slightest interest in you, now leave me alone!”

“Your name is on the unregistered passengers list!”

His words stung like a knife having been plunged into my breast; clarity had stricken me with the force of a closed hand in that second, this young man, like myself, was fleeing from danger, and he had been thinking that I was his nemesis.

“Who are you running from?” I quietly asked after the shock of his statement settled enough for me to speak.

“Are you on this ship for me?” he inquired more forcefully, ignoring my question.

“No,” I insisted. “I have no idea who you are, you must believe me!”

“Then, why did you come to A Deck to find me after the ruse I sent down to you?”

I hesitated; I knew he had me dead to rights, but I could not tell him about my mission, nor who I really was, lest he be one of the operatives sent to find me.

“I,” I paused momentarily, fighting against saying the only words I could think to say, “I found you attractive below. I was hoping to locate you and settle our differences.”

“You found me… attractive?”

“Yes.”

“And, how does that explain your name on the secret passenger’s list?”

“Alright,” I replied, lifting my hand to him and turning around. “My name is on that list because I did not want my parents to know that I am going to America; they would be infuriated with me; they might even disown me.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he replied as he stepped around to face me, “That list is not for trivial reasons, young lady; and you would not risk alienating your wealthy parents just to sight-see across America, now tell me why you’re here!”

His persistence and growing harshness had been quietly enraging me; I grabbed the top of my dress, pulled it down and took an aggressive step toward him; exposing the horrible lacerations and bruising the monster’s fangs had left on my bosom,

“You’re right,” I hissed at him like a venomous snake, still keeping my disguise. “I’m running from something much worse than boredom, and that is all I’m telling you!”

He was, as you might imagine, quite stunned at the sight of it. I pulled the dress back over the injuries, then turned to reenter the ship, but he gently took my arm and stopped me.

“What did that to you?” he asked in a much more tender tone of voice.

“None of your business,” I replied, “Now leave me alone!”

“Shh,” surprised at this, I turned to him, “Someone is watching us; don’t turn around!”

“Who?” I whispered, feeling suddenly terrified and vulnerable.

“Shut up,” he quietly demanded. “I’m going to kiss you, do not pull away!”

“No...” I whispered again, but he pulled me in, in spite of my protest, and pressed his lips against mine.

“Act like you enjoy it,” he ordered, never moving his lips from mine, “Do it; our lives are in danger!”

As awkward as it was, I knew I had to yield; I had no idea who was watching us, nor what their designs on us were, so I clasped his head in my hands, shut my eyes and pretended to accept the kiss.

After a long moment, he gently pulled me away,

“Smile, then embrace me; do exactly as I say, we have got to make this look convincing!”

I did as he ordered and he took my hand, crossed our arms and then led me back into the ship. Once inside, we quickly descended the stairs to B Deck and he hurried to a nearby towel closet, pulling me by the hand.

Once inside, he pulled the string to light the closet and then shut the door behind us.

“Listen to me,” he began, “I think we fooled him...”

“Who?” I insisted.

“I don’t know who it was,” he replied, “But, for the duration of this voyage, we’re going to have to pretend to be together; whoever it was saw you with me, so they will be coming for you as well if we don’t pretend to be lovers!”

“I need more than that,” I insisted again, still feeling violated from the unwanted kiss, “What on Earth have you done?”