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Churchill Candee. She was a writer, and had written several books, and seemed interested in a wide variety of subjects. A wide variety of “subjects” were interested in her as well. And Kate had noticed repeatedly that the attractive Mrs. Candee was seldom surrounded by fewer than half a dozen men, some of them the most attractive on the ship, with the exception of Kate’s own husband.
    “See what you could have done with your life, if you weren’t stuck with me,” Bert teased as they wandered past Mrs. Candee’s deck chair, where a group of men were waiting breathlessly for every word, and Kate could hear her elegant laughter ring out as they walked away. But she could only laugh herself. It was something Kate Winfield had never even thought of. The very thought of leading a life like Mrs. Candee’s only madeher smile. She loved her own life, with her children, and her husband.
    “I’m afraid I’d never do as a femme fatale, my love.”
    “Why not?” He looked hurt, as though she were questioning his taste. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”
    “Silly thing.” She kissed his neck and then shook her head, with a girlish grin. “I’d probably always be running around with a handkerchief, blowing someone’s nose for them. I think I was just destined to be a mother.”
    “What a waste … when you could have had all of Europe at your feet, like the illustrious Mrs. Candee.” He was teasing, but he was also very much in love with her, as she was with him.
    “I’d rather have you, Bertram Winfield. I don’t need all that.”
    “I suppose I should be grateful.” He smiled down at her, thinking of the years they had shared, the happiness, the joys, the sorrows. They had a good life, and they were not only lovers but good friends.
    “I hope Edwina and Charles have what we do one day.” She spoke quietly, and this time Bert knew she meant it.
    “So do I.” And despite the chill air that had come on them that afternoon, he stopped and pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her hard. “I want you to know how much I love you,” he whispered to her, and she smiled. He looked much more serious than usual, and she gently touched his face before kissing him again.
    “Are you alright?” He seemed so intense, which was unusual for him.
    He nodded. “Yes, I am … but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to say the words instead of just think them.” They walked on hand in hand. It was Sunday afternoon, and that morning they had attended Captain Smith’s divine service and prayed for “Those at Sea.” It was a quietday, and it was growing so cold that almost everyone had gone indoors now. They stopped and looked at the gym, and saw Mrs. Candee there, with young Hugh Woolner. Bertram and Kate walked on after that, and finally decided to go inside for tea. It was just too cold to stay outside any longer. And once inside, they noticed John Jacob Astor having tea with his young wife, Madeleine, in a corner of the lounge, and then they saw George, with Alexis in tow, having tea with two elderly ladies across the room.
    “Will you look at him?” Bert grinned. “God only knows what that boy is going to do when he grows up. I shudder to think sometimes.” He left Kate at their table in the lounge, and went over to introduce himself to the two elderly ladies who were entertaining his children. He thanked them profusely for their kindness, and eventually brought the children back to the table where Kate was waiting for them. “What on earth are you doing here?” He asked on the way back, and with a look of amusement at Alexis who had seemed quite comfortable with two strangers, which was rare for her, “And what did you do with Oona?”
    George was perfectly happy to answer.
    “She went to visit her cousin downstairs, and she left the little ones with a stewardess. I told her I was bringing Alexis to you,” he said, shrugging happily, “and she believed me.”
    “George took me to the gym,” Alexis announced