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| Evie departs Liverpool |
A lovely woman brushed the dark hair of her equally as beautiful 11 year old daughter. Their deep brown eyes locked in each other's gaze in the reflection of the mirror. As the mother carefully combed with a silver horsehair brush the candle light glistened in the initials “EJ” that were engraved in it. The mother suddenly stopped brushing and placed her soft hands on the daughter's shoulders and took a breath of pride at her beautiful girl's reflection.
"You'll enter a world of endless fortune and new beginnings. You're our hope, darling, to keep things on our end afloat. It's up to you. It's all up to you." The mother said, signaling to the young woman that indeed this day was going to be the biggest day of her life. Today the young lady was about to meet the boy she would marry when she turned 24 years old. A young rich American boy from an Island off the coast of Maine.
"What if he doesn't like me?" The young lady said turning to her mother to face her away from the mirror.
"He will. He will love you, my darling. He will love you for all eternity. I promise you."
The young lady smiled, trusting her mother with everything she had in her little soul.
*
Her mother's voice echoed over and over, like the sea crashing on the waves on the white sanded English shore in Liverpool 13 years later in 1911, as she sat and watched from behind the steamy glass of her father's Knox 15 automobile. She remembered this moment with her mother in the mirror as her belongings packed away in 4 large trunks that were loaded on to a large steamship headed for the new world--her new world: America.
The years since she first met the young American boy felt like 100 rather than only 13. Now she was about to embark on a journey over the wild waves of the Atlantic headed to her new destiny. Everything seemed so uncertain. Everything seemed to be going so fast.
As she stepped out on to the withered ancient dock, her dark blue velvet dress dragged behind her she looked out on to the sea just beyond the docked steamship and wondered had her family made the right decision for her. It frustrated her that she was unable to live out her own destiny and that so much of her family's survival was set up on whether or not she would do well in, of all things, an arranged marriage; it was a feeling she battled over and over in her head.
She wanted to define herself for herself, but at a young age when she had no choice, her future was written for her: A new home, country and new family that she would marry into awaited her arrival in America. This was her now reality, as unwanted as it was.
As she climbed up the long ramp from the dock to the ship’s open hill door, the young English woman pulled out her ticket reveling her name as Lady Evangeline Jordan, the young heiress who's family had gone from the heights of British society to almost ruin. They had fallen on hard times struggling through financial issues despite once living in the lap of luxury. But by 1906, things changed. The family textile business failed and the Jordan family's survival was hinged on sending their son Nikolas to work in the London factories and on the betrothal of Evangeline (or Evie as her closest friends and family called her) to the young Sebastian Lord of Welshport Island in Maine, United States.
Now aboard, Evie gazed down through tear filled eyes at her family waving goodbye. She could still remember her father’s tight face frozen in emotion trying not to crack as he waved, her mother unbearably sad waving away her only daughter as her pink dress seemed to sway with the waves, and her brother Nicky, tall and bright holding both parents the shoulders from behind squeezing them close.
Evie turned away unable to bare another look just as the seagulls began to sing her a song from their aerial stage as the anchor slowly lifted from it's watery perch.
Evie began to walk up the ship’s main staircase, so freshly painted in white, when she turned to an Irish voice coming from behind her. It was a bellhop still holding Evie's ticket. He handed her a slip of paper. It was Evie's cabin assignment.
"You'll be sharing a large suite on Deck 1 with a Mrs. Randall-Ruth." The bellhop explained.
Evie smiled and followed him and reached for a white handkerchief tucked carefully away in her dark blue velvet sleeve and dabbed the stream away from her eyes as her soft dark curls blew back over her shoulder when a gust of the salty wild Atlantic wind began its pull.
As the hours went on and the giant ship cut through the North Atlantic like a silver bullet slicing through a thrashing blue monster, Evie entered her cabin suite on the first deck. It was a four room suite with white walls with crown moldings over the doorways of mermaids and ships of the sea.
Alone in her cabin, Evie began to day-dream about what America would look like and what she would do to pass the time in her new life. She hoped that she could travel across the country and that her soon-to-be husband would share her passion for reading about history and art. After all, they were children when they last saw each other. She had no idea what he would really be like now that they were older.
She gazed down at a suitcase she brought with her filled with just books. She opened one of her favorites about the art of the Austrian painter Von Alt. She thought about the photographs that were sent of Sebastian, he was handsome, much more handsome than she remembered him when they were both 11. But was he interesting? Was she creative? Was he kind? She thought about the estate she'd move into that rested on a small island and village off the coast of Maine and thought about all the art on the walls. Her passion, every thing art and culture.
Then, her stomach sank. There was much more to Sebastian, than just him. He had a whole family she would soon become a part of. She thought of them, her new family: His grandmother Rebecca, a stoic woman with deep religious and spiritual convictions, and his Uncle Jacob equally harsh in the ways of affection and Jacob's young daughter Charlotte. They were faces she did not know, but would soon be one with them as their new family member.
The sway of the ship set to sea eased her nerves slightly, like lulling a baby to sleep in a crib the further out into the dark blue water. Evie sat at the small desk with ship stationary with a large anchor at the top intertwined with rope and knotted in the center with a large swirl letter "I" for the name of the ship, the RMS Iberia. Evie grabbed similarly marked fountain pen and wrote on the white paper a letter to herself, a letter to reminder herself who she was and where she came from and to always, always know that she needed to look out for herself.
She folded up the letter and placed it in the pages of the book on Von Alt, then took a deep breath in and exhaled.
"Where'd you like these miss? Apologies for the lateness of your baggage." Another ship bell-hop with an Irish accent asked as he crowded her cabin door with her suitcases.
"Oh, um, just over here thank you." She replied.
"Off to American then?" He asked curiously wondering were the beautiful brunette would end up.
"I am. Maine." she answered.
"Maine, eh! Lovely place I recon. Had a cousin who fur-trapped 'round there about 5 years ago. He settled in Boston, after though. Anyway, safe travels Miss."
Evie smiled politely as the Irish bell-hop departed and a short stocky woman entered. It was Evie's cabinmate, a rich older woman named Catherine Randall-Ruth who was on her way to back New England herself after a long holiday in her home land.
"Oh darling, I hope this trip goes fast. I can't stand any more travel. Catherine Ruth, how'd you do?" The wealthy woman said removing a glove to shake Evie's hand.
"Evie." She said sweetly.
"They're bringing my things up later. I have a lot. I always seem to return back home with more than I brought, don't you?" Catherine asked.
"Oh, I'm not returning, this is my first time to America." Evie replied.
"Is it now! My dear you'll love it. I first came about 13 years ago. We landed in New York City. Its glorious. Dirty in places, I'll admit, but glorious. I've seen a lot of New England since we moved. A lot. You'll be in New York I imagine. A young thing like you." Catherine guessed.
"No, no, Maine actually."
Catherine crinkled her tiny potato like nose. Her brow furrowed and she adjusted her mink coat as if Evie had said something offensive.
"Maine? Darling why??" Catherine replied with snobbish distaste for the more rural American states.
"Its where my husband -- well future husband lives. I'm getting married there in a few days." Evie explained.
"Married! Oh My love! You're a bride to be. And traveling alone? Well then you must be glad I'm here to comfort you. Tell me, where in Maine is this husband to be? I can't imagine anything more fabulous than New York City. So ...be descriptive." Catherine said with a sense of passive aggression that Evie was used to from high-brow women like her.
Evie sighed, her annoyance that she had to now go and and on about this husband of hers, a whole tale of money and power and the idea she had to recite the fruits of her very lucrative betrothal left a strange taste in her mouth. But she did it. She played along. She entertained Catherine.
“My in-laws live in a small village on an island called…umm..”
Catherine interrupted Evie as her mine paused to remember the town’s name. Catherine’s eyes bugged out of head when she realized just where Evie was going.
“Welshport?!?! You’re not going to Welshport Island are you??”
"...Oh! Yes, that's it....yes. My fiancé's family are the Lords. Do you know them?" Evie replied.
"The Lords! Why YES! Of course. Everyone knows that family. They're one of the wealthiest in this area. Why, their publishing empire rules the printing presses for some of the biggest papers in the country. But....darling how did you get intertwined in them??"
"What do you mean?" Evie asked, unsure of what her cabinmate mean.
"Have you not heard of David Lord and what he did??" Catherine replied mentioning her future father-in-law by name.
"So you do know the Lords." Evie wondered.
"Yes. Well...No. Not personally, but darling the whole of upper New England knows what that man did 6 years ago. Don't you?" The rich older woman asked, clutching the tightly wrapped cameo on her neck.
Evie did not know. She had met David Lord and his son Sebastian, when they were both 11 years old. She had very few memories of David other than his blue eyes and beautifully trimmed beard. Her memories of Sebastian too were foggy. She received over the years photographs of him that painted him in a gauzy black and white shine. But nothing of family gossip had ever reached her ears in England. Clearly, Catherine knew more than she and maybe her own family did.
"What happened?" Evie asked.
"I don't know if I should …darling I'd hate to continue gossip this way, especially with someone who will soon join that family and truth be told every family has their ghastly secrets but....Well I should just come out with it." Catherine said scooting her small chair closer to Evie's so that what she was about to say could only be heard to those in the cabin. "Its better you know before you get there."
"Oh." Evie said in a strange tone, worried of what was to come.
"You see..." Catherine said as she was interrupted by the Irish Bell-hop.
"Your things ma'am!" He said to Catherine.
"OH!!! Wonderful! Darling, stack the trunks over here, yes...there, there is good. And the bags next to Miss. Jordan's please. Thank you love."
"She's going to Maine!" The bell-hop replied to Evie's nervous smirk.
"So I've heard! Welshport in fact." Catherine replied to a the ghost faced bell-hop.
"Welsh...port?"
"Mmmm Indeed." Catherine said as she sat back down on her chair next to Evie.
The bell-hop took a deep breath and swallowed hard and quickly dashed out out of the cabin alarming Evie's senses. What was it about Welshport and the family she was about to become a part of that no one told her? Her heart was pounding. She could feel the sweat of nerves drip down her back and settle in the grooves her tightly wound corset. Her breathing was shallow as she prepared to hear the truth of this family.
Catherine looked around as if there were other's listening and then again scooted herself closer.
"Daring, David Lord went missing after a very scandalous incident. He had a horrible affliction of drinking too much and it seems there was some sort of affair in the household. The rumor is that David's brother Jacob had been very....VERY... close to Sabrina, David's wife. Well things didn't end very well for Sabrina, you see. David, so it is said.....drowned her in as jealous rage. Right there on one of those murky beaches of the island. Jacob was said to have been devastated, of course. Sebastian too. His mother and his uncle--together! Who could imagine that? Well, things went from horrid to even worse when David vanished into thin air. No one has seen him since. There's even a rumor, that Jacob's young daughter is Sabrina’s daughter. Not a soul on that island knows who's that little girl's mother truly is. Jacob's never been married." Catherine explained.
"That's horrible! I don't think ... I don't know what to say!" Evie said, as she hid her shaking hands under a soft fold of her long skirt.
"Oh Dear...I've done it again. Ive said too much. Sweet girl, always remember, Rumors are just terrible, not a word of this could be true. Fiction, you see, is the sweet nectar that upper crust of New England society lives off of. I should have kept my big American mouth shut."
Evie sat in her chair. Staring deep into Catherine's bewildering brown eyes and said nothing as the older woman went on and on. What could she say? What combination of words in the English language could she even utter to make what Catherine had just reveled to her sound better?
"Well say something!" Catherine shouted.
"I .... I.... ." Evie paused. Nothing was coming out of her mouth. All she could feel was a grumping and a tightening in her stomach. Suddenly, she turned and vomited all over the floor of their luxury ocean liner suite.
"Sea sickness. It happens to the best of us, love. Lie down." Catherine said, attributing Evie's sudden nausea to the typical sea sickness and not from the scandal she had just revealed.
As Evie processed the news of the strange murder and disappearance in her new family while she lay back in her small soft bed, the ship began to rock harder as it settled into a storm just off the coast of Iceland. Catherine entered Evie's room to replace the cold rag on Evie's forehead and quickly grabbed her seat next to the ailing Evie's bedside.
The two women grabbed hold of each other and whimpered in fear as the feeling of the sea beating the side of ship ricocheted into their chests.
Evie felt her heart drop. It wasn't the sea. It wasn't the storm. It was the idea of what in the world had her family gotten her into by marring into this family. Had they all known and allowed her to leave England to America all alone anyway? Had they fed her to the wolves for the money and prestige of become in-laws to such a powerful New England family like the Lords?
Evie lay on her bed in her private quarters inside the cabin listening the waves outside her tiny circular cabin window. She closed her eyes and floated off into a deep sleep. The sound of the fog horn soothed her and the rocking of the ship lulled her away to a place in her mind that she had not ever tapped into.
In her mind, deep in sleep, she stood alone in a dark place. Dressed in a white nightgown she could feel a strange fog floating around her when suddenly a white door with a large golden doorknob adorned with a lion above and large golden poppy flowers below. The door appeared to her in the middle of the darkness. She squinted her eyes and walked slowly through this fog in her mind and gripped the doorknob once she reached it. She turned it but the it did not open. She then stepped around the door that was standing freely in the middle of the blank place in her mind and on the other side---the door again. She then grabbed the knob and turned it opening the door.
When she opened the door a violent wind rushed and pulled her into a vast sucking vortex. She began falling into another black void that seemed to go on and on and. There was no bottom. She screamed into the wind that sucked her into the white door but it was no use. There was no one around to save her. To pull her out. To take her away from wherever this deep dark place was taking her.
She opened her mouth and screamed again and suddenly she was back in her cabin on the RMS Iberia shaken awake by her older roommate.
"Wake up child! You've been screaming for 10 minutes! What is it, what were you dreaming of?" Catherine asked also dressed in a white nightgown with blue fringe that ticked the tops of her feet.
Sweaty and breathing heavily Evie said nothing. She only shook her head and turned over in her bed with white sheets with the same ship insignia on the pillow case as on the desk stationary.
Catherine grimaced knowing full well that her story of the strange occurrences in Welshport perhaps what was causing Evie's unease.
"You'll be alright." Catherine whispered and she tip-toed back to her quarters across the cabin suite.
A man's hand crowned with a large golden and emerald ring on the left pinky finger, flipped the first card over: THE SMILING SUN.
Finally, the final card, the final card that would seal this new fortune closed for good. As the fifth card was about to be flipped by the man with the golden emerald ring, another hand from across the table stopped him.
"Wait." An older woman's voice said.
"What is it?" The man replied, his English dripping with a deep French accent.
"The Red River?" She asked, moving closer to the light revealing a woman of about 65, her hair up in tight red curls that were going white with age, her eyes as clear blue as the Maine sky in spring. "Gaspar, Ive never seen that one." She added, revealing the French soothsayer by name as she reached for her neck that was covered in 5 layers of pearls.
"Madame, as I mentioned ‘brethren’… the red river is the symbol of a blood line. Particularly male. A familial connection. A linage of the Lord family, your family." Gaspar replied.
The older woman, Rebecca Lord, lifted one of her faint eyebrows and squeezed the solid gold rosary that was clenched tightly in her hand reluctantly accepting his explanation. She motioned with her hand for him to flip the final card. He took a breath and did so: THE DROWNED PRINCE.
Gaspar grabbed the older woman's hand and squeezed.
"It will be more clear when she arrives Madame Rebecca. I promise you, Sebastian will be safe. We will keep him safe despite what these cards read of Miss. Evie." Gaspar said mentioning Rebecca's beloved grandson Sebastian, Evie's betrothed.
"This spells disaster Gaspar. Disaster!! I need sage. I need to sage this place, this whole estate has a had the curse marked on it since..." the older woman named Rebecca Lord paused going over horrible memories of the tragedy that shook the Lord family to its core. "since it all happened. Nothing has ever been the same and we need to cleanse this place." She finished
"Yes Madame but we can do something else to insure that Miss Evie's arrival it isn't a disaster. With all things in the spiritual realm we know that they are not be all and end all. Our fates are not finite, indeed they are flexible and fluid like the sea." Gaspar consoled, a handsome Frenchman who acted as Rebecca's in-house spiritual advisor.
Rebecca pulled a black shawl that was draped around her shoulders as the chill from the outside air filled the room and blew on the candle flame in front of them. She covered her white hair with it and stood up from Gaspar's table.
"'Do something?'" the Lord family matriarch replied coldly, "my dear Gaspar, nothing in this realm or the next will stop me from keeping my grandson safe. Nothing." she added cryptically as she stormed out of the dark room disappointed and furious at her card reading.
As Rebecca left her reading she reached for the room's golden doorknob crafted with a golden lion's head and golden poppy flowers attached to the white door just like the one in Evie's dream aboard the Iberia.
Rebecca slammed the door shut, a gust of wind blew out the candle in front of Gaspar. Then a match lit the candle again; the light reflected the face of of a man who was secretly watching in the corner of the room hidden in the shadows. It was Jacob Lord, Rebecca's opportunistic and craven son who’d always see an unnerving benefit to his mother’s more extravagant superstitious beliefs.
"Well? What do you think she'll do?" Gaspar asked somewhat mocking Rebecca know she was overreacting.
"Don't you worry about my mother. She'll fall into her place in our plan just fine. It'll be perfect." Jacob said as he quickly licked his thumb and forefinger and extinguished the candle in a puff of smoke.
Back aboard the ship, Evie awoke in a gasp of air as the fog-horns beaconed an arrival to shore as the sun rose in a purple and orange sky.
Her room was cold. She could see her own smoke like breath in the early morning air.
Evie got out of bed when she noticed the tiny circle hull window of her cabin was open. In her nightclothes she shivered and tip toed her way on the hardwood floors to the window and grabbed the brass handle to close it but as she did she noticed the Iberia had arrived in Frenchman's Bay, and the glistening Marina of Welshport.
This was her brand new world and an uncertain future, scary future.
