Free The Lifeboat by Charlotte Rogan

dead duke,” I whispered to Penelope.
    “Archduke,” said Penelope, causing us both to laugh. But mostly we talked of our weddings, for she had been recently married as well, and while we both acknowledged that our small talk was far less significant than the conversations seething around us, we also agreed that the world would be a better place if all people had to worry about were weddings and stayed away from war.
    After we had become friendly, Penelope leaned closer to my ear than usual and said, “You’ve probably wondered why Mr. Cumberland and I weren’t seated at the captain’s table at first, but we are now.” Of course I had wondered, but I didn’t admit to it. “My husband is an employee of a British bank,” she went on, “and he was appointed to accompany a large shipment of gold to New York.” She told me he wore a special key around his waist at all times, and since he needed to be in close contact with the captain and also with the other bankers on board, it seemed best for them to have a pretext for those relationships to prevent people from asking too many questions. “Of course, it has to do with the war,” she whispered. Later, Henry told me to take Penelope under my wing, saying his bank hoped to enter into a business relationship with the bank her husband worked for. He had once told me that his banking colleagues were watching the European situation with great interest, as there were always large profits to be made in war.
    I think I liked Penelope all the better after that, but where I felt I had finally found my true place in the world, she was timid, and I had all I could do to convince her that she belonged at the captain’s table as much as anybody did. We practiced table manners. I lent her two of my new dresses, and I taught her to rustle her skirts and walk with her shoulders back and her eye on a distant goal. I told her to smile and laugh—but not too broadly—when she didn’t know what else to do, and the captain did his bit to encourage her by letting her walk in to dinner ahead of everyone else, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Even if you can’t feel it in your heart,” I told her, “you can surely pretend.”
    The only time Henry and I ever argued was on the Empress Alexandra. He had led me to believe his parents knew the real reason he had broken off his engagement to Felicity Close, and whenever I asked him for details, he said, “They know everything” or “I can’t marry Felicity because I don’t love her. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and I told them as much,” but it finally became apparent he had left out the part about me. “But what will happen when we get to New York?” I wanted to know. “How will you explain me? Surely it would be best to inform your parents in advance!”
    “It will take me a few days to arrange things, but I want to tell them face-to-face,” said Henry. “And of course I’ll need to find us somewhere to live, but don’t worry. You will be able to choose the curtains and furniture.” He was trying to distract me with furnishings the way a fisherman drops a glittering lure into the water in hopes of attracting a stupid fish, but I wasn’t biting. “But what will I do in the meantime? Where will I stay?”
    “Can’t you stay with your mother? I had assumed you could stay there.”
    “She’s gone to live with her sister in Philadelphia. Besides, I want to be with you!”
    Henry put his hand on my shoulder and said “Darling” three or four times in succession, but I shrugged him off. “You want to hide me away!” I exclaimed as the full meaning of his words sank in. When he saw that I wasn’t going to give in, he reluctantly agreed to go to the ship’s radio room that very afternoon and arrange for a wireless message to be sent to his mother informing her that he would be coming home with a wife. Only in retrospect did I fully comprehend the import of this, for if Henry hadn’t sent that