Deep as the ocean, p.1
Deep as the Ocean, page 1
C. J. Baty
Deep
as the
Ocean
The Pinkerton Man Series
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Deep as the Ocean (The Pinkerton Man Series)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Also By C.J. Baty
About the Author
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to everyone who loves Stiles and his adventures as a Pinkerton Agent. You’ve made this series an ever on going passion for this author. Thank you.
Copyright © 2021 C.J. Baty
First Edition September 6, 2021
Published in the United States
Cover Art by Arden O’Keefe – K.S.L. Designs
Editing by Edits with a Touch of Grace https://www.facebook.com/editswithatouchofgrace/
Cover content used for illustrative purposes only, and any person depicted is a model.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The Author will make known specifics in Author Notes.
The following story is set in the USA and therefore has been written in US English. The spelling and usage reflect that.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Owner, except where permitted by law. To request permission and for all other inquires, contact cjbaty27@gmail.com by email.
AUTHORS NOTES
The ocean liner in this story was manufactured by the White Star Line. The same company that produced the Titanic a few years after the time setting of this story. At the time of this voyage (roughly 1906), Mauretania was one of the finest vessels sailing the ocean. It was luxurious and well known for it’s first class accommodations. The author has taken liberty to describe the interior of the vessel after viewing photographs of such vessels during this time. Adding color and grandeur to brighten the story telling.
Chapter One
“It’s beautiful,” Lizzie exclaimed as they followed the man who carried their luggage on board the ship.
“It certainly is,” Michael agreed. “You did a marvelous job, Stiles.”
“Hold your praise until we see the staterooms,” Stiles answered. He took Lizzie’s arm and helped her up the gangplank to the ship’s main deck.
The Mauretania, the sister ship to the Lusitania, was a magnificent vessel boasting luxurious staterooms, fine dining, smoking rooms, a ballroom for dancing, and billiard and card rooms. There was a library aboard as well as designated rooms for ladies to use. First class staterooms had their own bathrooms. Second and Third class were supposedly nice but not up to the standard of First class. His and Lizzie’s room had a lounge area and wet bar as well as separate bedrooms. Michael’s single would be next door to them.
“Good afternoon,” a steward in a crisp white uniform greeted. “May I have your names, please?”
“Stiles Long. This is my sister Lizzie Ferguson and our traveling companion, Michael O’Leary.”
“Ah yes. Your rooms are on this deck through the doorway there. The porter will bring your bags immediately,” he said as he gave the porter the room numbers. “I hope you have a pleasant voyage with us.” He tipped his white hat and motioned them on.
Stiles could hear the man give the next couple behind them the same introduction. So far so good.
The hallway to their rooms was wide enough for the porter to push a large cart with their luggage. He stopped at a door with the numbers 105 and 106 on them.
“This is the two bedroom unit,” the porter said pointing to the door on the left. “And this is the single.”
He opened the door to his and Lizzie’s suite and allowed the porter to come in with the luggage.
“The blue bags are mine and I’ll take the room on the right,” Lizzie told the porter. “Look, Stiles,” she said pointing at the bureau where a bottle of wine sat in an ice bucket.
Stiles poured them a glass and they stared out the window at the dock where people still boarded. After the porter unloaded their luggage, he moved outside and went into Michael’s room. He’d also opened the door allowing the porter in.
“It’s lovely, Stiles. Really it is,” Lizzie said still standing by the window. “You and Michael will be able to have some privacy, I’m sure, on this voyage.” A knock on the door caused them both to look up.
“Good afternoon, ma’am, sir. I’ll be your cabin steward during your voyage,” he said as he bowed toward Lizzie and shook Stiles hand. “My name is Winston Aldridge, but please call me Winston. If you need anything at all, just pull the bell by the door and I’ll be alerted. Do you have any questions about the layout of the ship that I may answer?” He waited for them to speak.
“How many levels are there and where are the public rooms?” Lizzie asked.
Winston smiled, then said, “Good questions. There are four levels below the main deck. First class passenger rooms are on this level, labeled A. Second class is below that, level B. Third class below that. Of course, that is level C. Engine rooms and employees compartments on the lower deck. As for the main deck, there are three dining rooms. The Seaside is the first class dining hall. The Beaches is for second class passengers. The Dolphin is for third class. The ballroom, Shells, is nestled between Seaside and Beaches. The ladies lounge is adjacent to the ballroom facing the ocean with a wide bank of windows. And, lastly, the men’s lounge is on the starboard side where tobacco and pipe’s would not offend the ladies.”
“My goodness that was an abundance of information,” Stiles noted. “You’ve got your job cut out for you.”
“I’ve worked on the Mauretania since she launched, sir,” Winston answered.
“Thank you for all of the information,” Lizzie replied.
Before he left them, Winston added, “I nearly forgot, I’d also like to know when you’d like your tea and toast brought in each morning; as well as what time you would like to have your beds turned down. A maid will change the linens each morning while you enjoy the many opportunities on board. Please, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
Stiles gave him the information that the three of them had decided on before they had left New York. That way, if Stiles slept in Michael’s room at night he would have to be back in his room by the time the steward came in each morning.
After Winston hurried out of their room and down the passage with the porter, who was still bringing luggage to some rooms. Stiles wondered if there were very many late comers.
“How about we go for a walk on the main deck and watch the ship leave the dock?” Stiles suggested.
“Wonderful!” Lizzie exclaimed. “Wonderful idea!”
She reached into her handbag and removed her Derringer and placed it in one of her luggage bags.
“I don’t think I’ll need to be carrying that around with me on board,” she smiled at Stiles. “I’m going to pretend I’m just an ordinary lady traveling abroad with her handsome brother and their friend. I might even find someone to flirt with. Forgetting about the agency is exactly what I need.”
“Oh, you’re going for the damsel in distress disguise on this voyage,” Stiles snickered as Lizzie glared at him.
“Take that back, you dunce.” She used her fist to jab his shoulder.
“Ow. That hurt,” he laughed.
“What’s going on in here?” Michael asked from the doorway.
Not for the first time since Stiles had met Michael O’Leary, he thought how handsome his lover was. Those green eyes flecked with gold, and the copper streaks in his hair that framed the pale freckled face still made his pulse race. The thought of the intimate things they could share later tonight also had his cock stirring. He could hear Michael whispering “you’re insatiable” in his mind. A chuckle escaped him before he could stop it.
“Lizzie wants to find a man on this voyage,” Stiles said stepping away from his friends reach. “What do you think, Michael? Could Lizzie Ferguson, Pinkerton Agent, capture a dashing young man’s heart?”
Lizzie’s face turned a terrible shade of red, not at all becoming of a lady, and Stiles knew he had possibly crossed a line. Michael, ever the peace maker, stepped into their room and offered Lizzie his arm.
“I think Mrs. Elizabeth Ferguson, widowed-but-out-of-mourning, could capture the heart of several young men on this voyage, and possibly a few older ones, too.” Michael’s smile was warm and full of heart. Stiles knew he reserved that particular smile for only he and Lizzie.
“Thank goodness, one of you has some manners,” Lizzie huffed as she took Michael’s arm and walked into the hallway. Ignoring Stiles completely.
Stiles being well aware he was being snubbed stepped in behind them and kept his snickers to himself.
OUT ON THE MAIN DECK, they joined a crowd of other passengers watching the deck hands preparing to shove off. The gangpl
Dinner was served at eight, allowing passengers a chance to unpack, nap, or enjoy watching from the deck as the ship moved through the water. Lizzie chose to nap after she’d unpacked, allowing Stiles a little time to visit with Michael in his cabin.
“We don’t have time for that,” Michael said as Stiles tried to maneuver him to the tiny bed in his stateroom. “Besides there isn’t enough room for both of us in that bed.”
“Well, it’s going to have to make do and we have slept in smaller ones,” Stiles alluded to their time in Durango, not so long ago.
Michael was resisting his kisses, but when Stiles nibbled at that spot just behind his lover’s left ear, he was pleased to hear a sigh. Michael turned the situation around and was soon kissing Stiles into submission. He found himself lying on his back panting when he opened his eyes to see Michael’s teasing smile. The one he used when he wasn’t being serious at all.
“You are a cad,” Stiles said sitting up on the bed. “You were leading me on.”
Michael threw his head back and laughed loudly.
“Cad? Seriously, Stiles. You are such a child at times. It’s seven thirty and I’m sure Lizzie is waiting for us. Straighten your tie and soften that bulge in your pants. No one wants to see that at the dinner table.” Michael opened the door to his room and stepped over to knock on Lizzie’s door.
“Just a moment,” Lizzie answered. The door opened and Stiles and Michael were shocked to see Lizzie in a most becoming evening gown.
“Well, Mrs. Ferguson, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to the dining room?” Michael bowed.
“Of course not. I’m her brother, I should be the one escorting her,” Stiles said watching Lizzie’s face blossom. “You look lovely, my dear. More than one head will turn this evening.”
THE SEASIDE DINING room for first class passengers was decorated in blue and gold. Dark blue carpet several inches thick made it feel like they were walking on clouds. Gold damask drapes lined the walls and entrance, giving the room quite an air of elegance. The five round tables with ten to fourteen chairs surrounding them were covered in brilliant white and set with the finest bone China rimmed in gold and accompanying crystal blue stemware. Floral arrangements of white roses and blue and gold ribbons graced the center of each table. A pair of waiters wearing short white coats, black slacks and a blue tie stood beside each table. It was the most luxurious room any of them had ever seen.
A maître d' dressed in black with a white shirt and the same blue tie as the waiters, led them across the room to their table. Another couple was already there and a single young man. The gentlemen rose and waited for Lizzie to be seated. Introductions were made while the waiter filled the water glasses.
“Jonathan Cummings,” the tall slender man said as Stiles pushed Lizzie’s chair in.
“Stiles Long. This is my sister, Lizzie Ferguson, and our traveling companion, Michael O’Leary,” Stiles said as he sat.
Stiles watched as Jonathan made a great show of taking Lizzie’s hand.
“Hello,” he said.
Just as Stiles suspected the young man caught the difference in their names.
“You’re married?” he asked with a hint of sadness in his voice.
“Widowed,” Stiles answered. “She’s out of mourning now. I thought it was the perfect time to take her abroad.”
Stiles noted the smile returned to the single man’s face as he sat back in his seat.
“Are you traveling alone?” Michael asked.
“My father is traveling with me, but unfortunately, he is quite unwell and prefers to take his meals in our suite. My mother passed six months ago, and his health has not been good since. His doctor suggested a trip abroad may help, so we’re headed to Bath from Liverpool,” Jonathan answered.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lizzie offered. “I’ve been to Bath in the past and I’m sure it will do your father a world of good.”
Jonathan Cummings smiled sweetly at Lizzie. Stiles noted the young man’s face flush as he admired Lizzie.
As he relaxed, Jonathan Cummings turned to the man and woman on his left, and said, “This is Lord and Lady Halcroft.”
Lord Halcroft was a fiftyish gentleman with long white sideburns and flushed cheeks. He was on the portly side with a jolly disposition. He beamed at his wife, a much younger lady as he spoke.
“This is my bride, Lady Halcroft. We’re on our honeymoon.” He beamed proudly.
Lady Halcroft glanced at Michael, batted her lashes, smiled, then picked up her glass of water.
The other single gentleman at the table stared at Stiles before he spoke. He only offered his name, “Alistair Corbyn.”
The man left Stiles with a feeling that he should somehow know him, but he couldn’t recall from where.
The maître d' escorted a woman overly dressed in a red satin gown adorned with feathers to the table. They were followed by two younger women and a very thin, dark-haired man.
“Good evening. I’m Dr. Axton Poole, this is my wife, Olivia, and our daughters, Emily and Daisy. Forgive Daisy, she isn’t taking to ocean travel as well as the rest of us.” Their father spoke as he sat.
Stiles noticed Daisy’s pale countenance and wondered if there was more to the situation. They had only been at sea for a few hours. He didn’t think one would suffer so quickly from sea sickness. She’d refused the soup when a waiter placed it in front of her. With golden hair and dark blue eyes, she would have been a stunning thing had she felt better, he was sure.
The other sister, Emily, seemed stern and much older than Daisy. Where Daisy was fair and had lightness around her, Emily’s nature was darker and not very friendly at all. She watched over her sibling with the eye of a tiger protecting her cub. Strange.
Two gentleman strode toward the table. Their dinner apparel appeared outdated but neatly pressed with starched collars. Both had dark hair that needed to be trimmed. They each asked for a Brandy instead of the offered wine.
“Cheers,” one said as he downed his drink in one swallow.
“Forgive my brother’s manners,” one man said. “I am William Franklin, and this is my brother, Ernest.”
Names were exchanged again around the table. There were still three empty chairs waiting to be filled. The waiters removed the soup and were bringing in the main course when a lady well into her later years wearing a mink stole wrapped around her shoulders appeared in the doorway. Escorting her was a young man in a dark suit and white shirt with a daring pastel lavender tie and matching handkerchief. He smiled brightly at everyone. The maître d' hurried across the room to pull out the lady’s chair.
“Lady Fernsbey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t at the door to meet you,” he said pushing her chair in after she was settled.
“No worry,” the young man said. “I know how to take care of her ladyship.”
A waiter nearby brought their bowls of soup only to be waved away by Lady Fernsbey. The young man asked for a Tom Collins at which the lady turned a frown toward him.
“Ducky, manners, please. Only one of those concoctions before you’ve eaten,” Lady Fernsbey said.
He giggled as he answered her, “Of course, dearie.”
As the main course of roasted duck, new potatoes, and peas was served, a lone gentleman came to stand behind the last vacant seat at the table. Stiles looked up to see a familiar face staring at him. He heard Lizzie’s gasp as she, too, noticed the late comer.
“Seems I’m late. Please forgive me, ladies and gentlemen,” James Stark said as he stood by the last empty chair.
“What are you doing here?” Stiles blurted before he could stop himself.
James Stark ignored Stiles, though he smiled at Lizzie longer than was polite. Stiles noted the derisive stare he gave Michael as he pulled his seat away from the table.
“Well, well. How did I manage to get seating at a table where I already know everyone?” James said as he bowed to the ladies at the table.
