We Three Orphans

It was the screaming I heard first.

Then the clapping, and I could see the smiles after that. The makeshift tablecloths made from bedsheets and the cake that Penny must have whipped together.

I could feel my own lips splitting into a grin.

“Happy birthday, son.” Graham was clapping me on the back- not my father, but as good as. Especially when my own was good as dead.

“Didn’t think we’d forget now, did you?” Penny’s shrill voice shook from the back of the group.

The men’s room had been converted to a small gathering spot, with this bunks and sling beds pushed up against the wall and three tables from the common space in the middle. Sitting on the biggest table was a shabby cake, leaning slightly, looking delicious.

I smiled at Penny, my crooked, winning smile that kept me out of trouble. “Never woulda dreamed of it, Pen.”

Penny and Graham were like grandparents of a sort, old and shaky on their legs but sturdy on a ship all the same. The rest of the group, laughing amongst each other and grinning at me, consisted of old friends and new, and my own captain, Locke.

He grinned at me, nodding inconspicuously. He’d like to pretend to be above all of this, but later, he’d probably be grudgingly handing me a gift.

James slung an arm across my shoulders and winked at Tilly. “Watch out, Til. This one’s a man now. He’ll be trying to get up those skirts-”

I shoved James, who was more like a brother than anyone, as my ears heated. “Shut up, you brute.”

Tilly’s own cheeks were hot, but she smiled at me, opening her arms for a big hug, shooting James a glare. “I don’t wear skirts anymore, ass. Happy birthday, Riggs.”

James was mumbling, but I just wrapped Tilly in a hug. “Thank you, Til.”

Tilly and James had been in my life for years, after working aboard Locke’s cargo boat together. He was captain of a vessel that transported goods downriver, usually food or timber. He’d taken one look at me six years ago, freezing on the side of the bank and using the cargo boxes for shelter, and told me to get to work.

Locke, it would seem, had a soft spot for orphans. James had been picked up two weeks before me, but he liked to dump his mop bucket over my head or push me across the freshly swabbed deck until I learned I could fight back, and that Locke encouraged that. It was once we sent each other overboard that Locke finally suggested we start to get along.

Tilly was picked up four years ago, in her lord’s daughter get-up and running from an arranged marriage. Penny had found her in town and brought her back without even asking Locke. Her skirts were ripped, and she was a poor worker at first, but she figured it out- and traded in her skirts for breeches shortly after.

But last year some hoarders burned Locke’s ship to the ground, and we lost everything. Our crew of fifteen wandered the streets of London for three days before being offered positions aboard the Ship of Dreams- the Titanic.

Every sailor knew about it. Every sailor knew about the pay, too. And what we really needed was a new boat. So, one voyage. One trip to America and back, and we could afford to get ourselves a new home- bigger than the last, too.

So, Locke helped the captain, Graham and James helped on the engine, Penny worked the kitchens, and Tilly and I tidied the first-class rooms. Which gave us a lot of alone time, something that we relished these days, living in huge bunkrooms. Both of us savored quiet.

Tilly looked uncomfortable as James tugged on her skirts. “Don’t wear skirts anymore my ass,” he countered.

I leaned against the door and smiled at them.

“It’s the uniform, you bugger,” Tilly pushed his forehead back.

“Why don’t you ever pick on Riggs like this?” James asked, stumbling.

“Because Riggs doesn’t warrant this kind of reaction,” Tilly countered.

“What?”

“I’m nice,” I translated. “Unlike some, who act like they were raised in a barn.”

“Not a barn.” James smiled coolly. “A slum. And we couldn’t all be noble bred.”

Tilly huffed. “Look where it got me, idiot.”

My smile dissolved slightly as Penny finally sliced into the cake, winking at me from across the room as our crewmates dug in. The few members of the Titanic crew that we had bothered to speak with were there, though they looked out of place in a group of people that had known each other for so long.

“How old are you now, kid?” Opal was the one woman on board who even resembled my mother, before she had died. Except for the fact that my mother had been dressed in gowns and fine jewelry, and Opal had two teeth missing and chopped hair.

“Twelve,” her husband, Mason, teased. “Looks it.”

I smiled broader. “Thirteen, actually, thank you.”

Opal tutted. “So close.”

While Opal looked like my mother, Mason didn’t even closely resemble my father. A viscount, he was. A man of power and status, who’d cast my mother aside the moment she’d become pregnant. He couldn’t let his lovely wife know about his pregnant mistress, so he barred her from the house. He’d paid her a grand amount for silence though, and we lived quite lavishly for years. My mother even married after that, to a well-off doctor who kept us living even better. Nice shoes and clothes and meals. When I was twelve, she died giving birth to my little sister.

She didn’t make it either. And my stepfather, a man who of reputation, kicked me out- a son from a cursed woman that wasn’t his.

I ended up on my father’s doorstep a week later, shaking and begging to stay. I’d had nowhere else to go. He took one look at me, the nose and chin and eyes that we shared, and grabbed the scruff of my coat and hauled me inside.

Not to a bedroom that would be mine, but to his courtyard, with his true sons watching, and two daughters high on the balconies. He’d taken a whip from his housekeeper and slashed my body apart until I promised to never come back. I’d lost everyone and received scars and an infection for my troubles. I was sick for months.

Locke found me two years later. A cast aside bastard of a London viscount, with no family or prospects. Locke didn’t even blink when I told him my story.

But he did tell me that no one else had to know, so I hadn’t told them. At first, James pressed. Everyone knew where he’d come from; an orphan who’d killed his father to protect his mother, who had died anyway a year later. And everyone knew Tilly’s story well. But after a few months of my silence, my friends had taken the tidbits of my past I gave them and been okay with just that.

I was an orphan. My mother died in childbirth. I never knew my father. Locke found me in the cargo yard.

None of it was a lie, but none of it was the whole truth.

“Perk up, brother.” James shook my shoulder. “You’re twenty now. A real adult.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I feel like it, for sure.”

“How’s it feel, oh wise one?” Tilly asked, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh, I can’t really explain. You’re going to have to experience it yourself.”

“Oh, she won’t still be talking to us then,” James mused. At twenty and a half, James liked to pretend he was the elder among us, while also being the most immature. “Ladies don’t talk to rakish boys like us.”

“Rakish?” I asked incredulously.

At the same time, Tilly snickered, “Ladies?”

And she set a beautiful hand on my shoulder, looking at James. “Please, Riggs doesn’t know anything about your rakish tendencies, James. Leave him out of this.”

But I did know, of course. Mainly because when James brought a girl to his bed aboard the Yarrow, it had been in the same room as mine. Now, on the Titanic, he merely shagged in dark corners and closets. But he always told me details later that I wished I hadn’t known.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have lovers of my own. I just kept them to myself. Tilly, who James did not spare from his details, wouldn’t be aware of them. Not because I was shy, but because I didn’t see including a lady in mine and James’ talks about women as courteous to her. Or necessary.

“Nothing about rakish tendencies my ass,” James muttered in my ear as I sipped from my glass. I smiled into the drink.

****

The next day when Tilly and I were carrying sheets to the rows of rooms, she was going on and on about the fashions of women aboard the ship, and I really didn’t care.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care about what Tilly was saying. I truly cared about everything that came out of her lips, but I really didn’t want to know how many petticoats was customary for a woman her age.

“I mean, I hate petticoats, so I don’t wear them anymore. But when I was younger-”

I drowned her own, my body tensing up. The fact that she did not wear a petticoat was not something I needed to know.

“Riggs?”

I hummed, blinking rapidly.

“Are you even listening to me?”

I sighed as I pushed open the door to our first room. “Honestly? No.”

She sighed back and plopped her sheets on the ground. “You never do.”

I pretended to look offended. “A lie. I’m always interested.”

She shot me a look, and I smiled. Not my crooked, everyday smile. This one was reserved for her.

We were silent for a bit, both working, but I could hear her thinking. Tilly was easy for me; to understand, to love.

“Think Locke’ll ever end up getting another boat?” She asked at last, sitting on the glamourous bedsheets of gold and ivory.

I shrugged. “Dunno. I think he’d be content either way, and so will we.”

“Living on the Titanic our whole lives?” Tilly raised her eyebrows. “You’re a wanderer, Riggs. So is James. And so am I.”

“So? You’re saying we leave?” I shoot her a glance. “All three of us owe Locke our lives.”

I rarely chided Tilly, though she usually did deserve it. She’d barely been allowed to talk growing up, and she uses her new ability to speak her mind quite often.

It was one of the things I liked best about her, but it could drive a man mad.

“Oh?” Tilly asks, eyebrows still cocked but a new expression on her face. “I know that James would have died in prison without him. I know that I would be married by now to a mess of a viscount’s son- probably pregnant.”

Tilly stood, throwing her hands in the air. We’d been part of the crew on the Titanic just a few months, and already, she was losing her mind.

“I want to know,” she said finally, arms pressed across her body in a way that made her look small.

Usually, when she got on her tangents, I just let her talk. I just let her ramble until she sorted things out on her own.

This time, I turned to her slowly from the towels I was folding, our eyes locking for a full minute before I spoke.

“What?”

“I want to know,” she said again, softer this time. “I want to know what happened to you.”

My tone turned hard. “I don’t recall offering to tell you.”

“Riggs-”

“It’s nothing profound, Tilly, drop it.”

“If it’s nothing profound, then just tell me.”

“So that James can know? So that Mason can tell Graham over tea in the morning?”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Tilly balked. “The men knowing? Losing respect?”

I was terrified. Of James knowing that my own father threw me out of the house and let his sons laugh. Of Mason knowing that my stepfather had only kept me around while my mother was there to keep his bed warm. Of Graham knowing how lost I felt when he offered me advice. Of any of them, knowing I knew nothing of what a father teaches a son. That I couldn’t wield a gun. That I never learned to ride. That I had no idea what made a man until I’d met them.

“Leave it be, Til.”

“I just… I need to know, Riggs, please.”

“You don’t need to know anything.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I have my own reasons for needing to know.”

When I was silent, she went on.

“Are you a criminal?”

“No.”

“Did run away from your family?”

“No.”

“Are you hiding out with Locke?”

“No.”

Then, in her soft, wonderful tone: “Are you heartbroken?” She sounded so, just asking.

I whipped my head back to her. I stared for a moment. “No.”

She blinked. “You hesitated.”

I considered planting a kiss on her lips just to prove myself. “I’m not heartbroken, Til.”

She looked almost relieved. “Well… good. I’m glad.”

A smile finally graced my lips as my mind played catch-up. “That’s what you were worried about?” I asked, my tone turning light and airy.

“Don’t tease me, Riggs,” she chided, looking defensive.

I chuckled. “And why, Tilly, does my being heartbroken frighten you?”

“You just said you weren’t.”

“I’m not,” I said before she even finished her sentence. “But you thought I was.”

“Why else would you be so embarrassed to tell the men? What else would you never talk about?”

“Because it’s nobody’s damn business.”

She sighed and turned, smoothing out the bedspread. “Forget I asked.”

“Gladly.”

We finished two more rooms before she spoke to me again.

“I was worried. About you. About… us.”

My body heated involuntarily. Gracious, just the word us out of her mouth set me on fire.

“Worried about us?” I asked, pausing between every word to watch her face tighten.

“I thought that, if you had been heartbroken, maybe there was someone out there that you would return to someday. And maybe she was the reason you don’t behave like the other men; I’ve never seen you chase the women in the pubs. And maybe I was thinking that I’d be jealous of her the day that you went back to her. And maybe I was wondering how soon that would be. And… I don’t know, Riggs, you can’t blame me for wondering. We’ve been friends for so long, and you’re so respectful.”

I tried to stop her, but she was on a roll.

“And I thought that if you were a criminal, or hiding out here, that maybe I’d- we’d- never get a chance. That maybe I didn’t really know who you were. And you wouldn’t tell anyone, not even James for Christ’s sake, so I just… I thought… I thought, this is a wonderful man. And I know him- well. I know his mind. And I thought that we would… work, you know? Like Mason and Opal work.”

She trailed off, and I smiled.

“I’m not heartbroken, Tilly,” I repeat. “There’s no one I’m hoping to return to, no laws that I’ve broken.”

She smiled shyly.

But I held up a hand, unable to lie to her. “But I do think I need to make sure that you’re aware that just because you never see me behave the way James and the other men do does not mean it’s never happened. And I need you to understand that. I don’t want you to have a misrepresented idea of who I am.”

She frowned. “But-”

“I don’t see the same joy in sharing my escapades with you as James does, but that doesn’t mean I’m not out after hours along with him, Tilly.”

When I saw the hurt in her eyes, I spoke softer.

“I’m not saying I’m against it- us, I mean. I’m not saying I enjoy myself nightly, either. But I am saying it happens. And I need you to… be aware of that, is all.”

She pursed her lips, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Okay.”

“If that changes everything you said earlier, we can forget about it. But if it doesn’t, let’s talk.”

She was balling dirty sheets into her hands to stuff into the cart we pushed down the halls. One more room on this hallway, and we’d be done until morning.

I could hear her thinking as I opened the door.

“Oh!”

A petite young woman was standing in the doorway, hand outstretched for the handle. I immediately stooped into a small bow, as all staff did when addressing the first-class passengers. Behind me, Tilly sucked in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” I told the woman. “We were just tidying up. We’ll be off.”

“Miss Walker, is that you?” She asked instead of referring to me, and when I glanced up, she was only looking at Tilly.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m sure of it. Tilly Walker, yes?”

I’d never known her last name. I looked over my shoulder to see her white as a sheet.

“I believe you’re mistaken, ma’am,” I said, no louder than a whisper. Behind the woman, a man my age and another woman appeared. More feet stepped forward as I dragged my eyes away from Tilly, who was staring, horrified.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise.” The voice was thick, like the man spent his days smoking cigars and drinking whiskey instead of tea. When I looked at him, he wasn’t looking at Tilly.

He was looking at me.

It made sense, of course, for viscounts to be traveling on the Titanic’s maiden voyage. It made sense, I suppose, for Tilly to know viscounts, having been engaged to one of their sons once upon a time.

I met my father’s eyes.

“Miss Walker, that is you!” The other daughter exclaimed, but it was just background noise to me.

“Shut the door, dear,” he drawled to his wife. All three sons were staring at me like they’d seen a ghost. Six years since I was whipped to the edge of life in their courtyard- I’d be surprised to see me, too. Today, it would be hard to say I wasn’t related to the viscount’s brood. We looked shockingly similar.

“Tilly,” I said through gritted teeth. “We should leave.”

She just nodded, stunned. She looked between the eldest son and I, eyes wide. We could be twins. I wondered if she was putting pieces together, remembering how she'd once been driven insane because of how familiar I was to her, when she'd never met me before. How she'd wracked her brain for a reason that I looked like someone she knew.

“What is this?” He asked, putting an arm out. “You’re what happened to her, are you?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” I muttered, but I would not call him sir. Damn the propriety rules.

He moved and grabbed Tilly’s arm, yanking her toward his wife. The gentle-looking woman put her arms around Tilly, who yelped and stumbled.

“This wench was engaged to my son,” my father spat. I turned, slowly, to meet my friend’s eyes. Tilly looked cornered, back in the shell she’d been when I first met her.

Then my father was grabbing me, pushing me onto the ground, and all I could do was hit my knees.

“You stole her away that day, you jealous bastard,” he hissed.

And I realized what was going on.

Tilly had been engaged to my eldest half-brother, and my father, the single-minded man he was, didn’t think it possible that she’d gotten away on her own. He thought I, four years after walking out of his life, had been vengeful enough to come and take her away before the wedding. And then vengeful enough to keep her with me for four more.

He would have me hanged. I knew it that moment- this would be his excuse to have me killed, and no one would be the wiser. They'd say my, that man looked just like his sons, and then they would forget about it. No one would know he'd sired a bastard with a woman he'd never truly known. He’d have Tilly tied to his next eldest son and be done with it. If Tilly was still a virgin, she was still up for grabs for a viscount. She still had her title, and his son had no doubt suffered rumors if his bride had taken off.

“Riggs…” Tilly breathed, watching: putting pieces together. I could see it in her eyes.

“That’s your name?” One of my half-brothers asked, chuckling. “Sorry, we never got around to asking at our first meeting.”

I stood. It was strange, to be the eldest of them all and still feel so small. I was the tallest- taller than our father, even. I glared at the boys, and the women sucked in one shared breath.

“I will not let you spit on me like a dog,” I hissed. “I did not steal her away. I met her when we were employed on the same vessel. I was not aware of her relationship to you, and believe me, she is not aware of ours.”

I met my father's eyes. “We are going to walk out that door, and you are going to let us.”

“Truly, Tristen, you just want to be done with all of this,” his wife pleaded from the edge of the room. Her youngest son stood next to her and Tilly. The daughters were across the room, staring in shock.

“That woman promised us a wedding. A wedding we will get,” the viscount drawled.

What would happen seemed to click for Tilly at the same moment he finished his sentence. She met my eyes.

“I’m unfit,” she blurted. “I… you…”

Tilly may have lived among sailors for four years, but even she was still too proper to say the words aloud. It would be an embarrassment, to say she was no longer a virgin to people she did not particularly like.

I stared at her. Urged her to continue.

She breathed. “I cannot marry any nobleman,” she conceded. “Not any of your sons.”

My father saw red. His hand connected with my cheek before I could react, but the slap didn’t send me reeling. I stood firm, glaring at him.

“You took her virtue.”

I didn’t mention that I’d been hoping to ever since I met her. I also didn’t mention that Tilly was, in fact, still a virgin- I'd have known if any men graced her chambers. I just stared at him.

“He did not!” Tilly finally kicked off the wall, standing next to me. Her cheeks were red. I thought she might cry.

“What happened between you all?” She asked, addressing me, the viscount, and the family. “Whatever it was, I can vouch for Riggs’ honor and he for mine. Just-”

“He has no honor,” my father spat. “He is not worthy of vouching for you, young lady. He is nothing.”

It was true. Had I been born in wedlock, my word would mean something, even to nobles. But, being the bastard that I was, it meant nothing. Not to them, not to townsfolk.

Tilly opened her mouth to speak, but I set a hand on her shoulder.

“He’s not worth an argument, Til. Let’s go.”

If there was one thing I had learned from our first meeting, not all fathers were worth fighting for. Not all fathers give what a son needs.

And mine was one of them.

“Get out,” my eldest brother seethed. “I don’t want to see you two again.”

“Hopefully you won’t, brother,” I said, letting the term land like a strike. All noise ceased. Tilly tensed next to me. It finally hit her, who this family and I were to each other.

“Get out,” my father said, deadly cold. “Before we call for the law.”

I grabbed Tilly’s hand and pulled her out of the room. We left our cart, but I heard it come crashing out moments later. In the hallway, people were talking too cheerfully for what had just occurred. The posh carpeting of the first class made me sway on my feet as I let go of Tilly’s hand and pushed through the throngs of people. I just wanted fresh air.

Tilly followed me. I could feel her just behind me. An abrupt stop in the ship’s course made me stumble forward, but I just kept on my way. Tilly smacked into the hallway wall. I could hear what sounded like glasses crashing, but I just wanted to make it above deck.

Once I did, I braced my hands on the railing and took deep breaths. It was a moment before Tilly set a hand on my back.

“He was your father,” she said in a small voice.

“Looks like you got the story after all,” I mused. My eyes were closed.

“That’s not how I wanted to figure it out,” she whispered.

I met her eyes over my shoulder. “Me either.” Then I chuckled, slight humor finding my tone.

“So, you were engaged to my brother,” I asked.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know he was your brother.”

“Half,” I offered like it hadn’t been obvious.

She shot me an incredulous look, shut her eyes hard, and sighed. “I want off this damn ship,” she whispered to the heavens.

I laughed. My face stung where I’d been smacked. She reached up and wiped a cool hand across my cheek.

“It’s red,” she muttered.

“It’s not even close to the worse he’s hit me,” I whispered. “It’s fine.”

She stiffened. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“You… you never said anything. About…”

“Being a noble-bred bastard?” I cocked an eyebrow at her. The ocean wind whipped her hair. “It’s not something that casually comes up in conversation, is it?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Especially not James. Does Locke know?”

“He’d have never let me on the ship if he didn’t know who I was.”

“And.. your mother?”

“I’m an orphan, remember?”

“Well, I just looked your father in the eyes, Riggs, so excuse me for double-checking.”

If there hadn’t been humor in her tone, I would have balked at her.

“She’s dead,” I said, and it didn’t sting in the way it used to. I smiled. “Really, this time.”

Tilly wiped what must have been a bead of sweat off my forehead. “I’m sorry.”

I took her hand from my face. “It’s okay.” I pressed a small kiss to the back of her hand.

She smiled, about to say something, when something behind me caught her eye.

“Is that… ice?”

“There you two are!” While I couldn’t see him, I knew James’ voice anywhere. And his tone, the way he didn’t stop to ask why we were standing so close, the look in his eyes when I turned-

“What happened?” I asked, immediately thinking the worse. Graham had been hurt in the engine room; Opal had fallen down those precarious stairs from her bunkroom to the service quarters-

“It’s the ship.” James was breathing hard. “We’ve hit an iceberg.”

The words settled into the pit of my stomach. The true weight of them. The sudden halt the ship had come to that sent Tilly into the wall when I was rushing my way above deck. The ice on the floor next to us.

“The Titanic is unsinkable,” Tilly breathed, but even her words were frightened. “Everyone knows that.”

I had seen James terrified. I had seen James the moment our home aboard the Yarrow had burned on a riverbank. This was more. This was terror.

He shook his head. “The engine room has taken on water.” His next words grabbed hold of my throat. “Cap says we’re going down.”

“James! Riggs! Tilly!” Locke was running toward us. Further back, passengers were gathering. Rumor was spreading. Further than that, just stumbling out into the night, was the rest of our home crew.

“Come here!” Mason called.

The three of us moved like a team. James and Tilly were both gripping my hands, the three youngest members of our makeshift family looking very much like children as we stumbled across the deck to Locke as he reached for us. Mason by his side, Penny and Graham with arms around some of the others. Opal, holding her slightly swollen stomach.

My ears began to ring. Sound drowned out. I saw a man already wearing a life vest run for the lifeboat lines.

That was when I finally heard the screaming.