better. But the size? How?" Her gaze darted from the ring to his face, which had paled.
"We have a few mutual friends."
"Elsie?"
His raised eyebrows indicated she'd guessed.
"The night we went to the carnival with her and Edward." She gasped, remembering. John and Edward had insisted they get those cheap little rings and pretend the two couples were engaged. How silly they had been, making Lydia and Elsie swap rings while the men decided which one they should wear.
"You and she wore the same size," he said. "She was in on it, too, and gave me her ring so I would know your size. I've kept it with me, waiting for the right moment."
The carnival night preceded the night they had spent together. "You wanted to marry me way back then?"
"From the moment I met you."
He removed the ring from the blue velvet and held the yellow gold band between his fingers.
A question hung in the air. Not when, or how, or what, or why. But, will you?
She extended her trembling hand. "Yes, John. I'll marry you. I love you."
He slipped the ring on her finger. She stared at the ring, remembering the times she'd looked at her mother's ring, the one her father said would be hers when she married, either to wear or to keep.
But she knew her father would not give it to her if she didn't marry a man of his choice. John was here, and a manifestation of his love was on her finger. If a choice had to be made, she'd rather have John's ring, even if it were the carnival one in her jewelry box. Someday perhaps she could give her mother's ring to her daughter, or to her son for the woman of his choice.
Welling up inside her were contrasting emotions: sadness at not being able to share this with her mother alongside excited anticipation of spending her lifetime with the man who touched her heart.
He took her fingers, brought them to his lips, and kissed them.
"May I?" He glanced at her stomach.
She nodded. Wet emotion spilled from her eyes and she could not suppress a small laugh of happiness as he gently touched where his child grew. He looked so wonderful kneeling before her and even reached out to the table and steadied himself.
She laughed. "John, you might want to get up now."
The color in his face deepened. "Oh." He rose from his kneeling position and pulled his chair over in front of her. "Of course, you will want to plan the wedding. Whatever you want, wherever you want. New York. England. France." John grinned. "But I have a thought."
"Uh-oh." She lifted her gaze to the ornate ceiling and back to him again. She would love to look at him forever.
"I know. I'm the dreamer."
"I love that about you."
"Well, what do you think about our getting married right here on the Titanic? Not wait any longer?"
"Would that be legal?"
"I'm sure it would be. I'll ask. I know captains and chaplains can perform ceremonies. So the captain should have legal papers on board. All licenses have to be signed and filed, but once a man and woman are pronounced husband and wife, the preacher says they're married." He stared at her with hopeful eyes.
When she didn't answer immediately, John began to reassure her. "We can later be married in a church and invite our friends. Your father can walk you down the aisle."
He shook his head and spoke apologetically. "I've never put great value on money, but since I've achieved some success, I know the possibilities that lie before me, and I have to admit I am impressed with what wealth can do. Seeing this ship in particular, I understand how one might get caught up in it, be dazzled by it."
This seemed so foreign to how John usually spoke. But his next words thrilled her. "I would love to see you, the most beautiful girl in the world, at the top of that grand staircase while becoming my wife."
"Oh, my." She saw it in her mind. If anyone overheard John's words, they might think he had become caught up in the opulence around him. She knew better. When they'd explored the impressive ship, many had spoken of, "What money
Massimo Carlotto, Anthony Shugaar