Clara Forsyth bent to tie her boot as her dog, Poppet, circled near her on the muddy road. She went through quite a bit of trouble preparing for this journey that would take her home to New York. Working for nearly two years she earned enough money to secure a third-class ticket aboard the brand new RMS Titanic. It was the largest ship ever made, not that it mattered to Clara, she just wanted to travel again.

Most women were either married or doing their debuts trying to meet the "ideal match" when they were nineteen. At the age of fifteen, Clara set out to discover the world unaccompanied and mule-headed. She ended up in England by the age of eighteen, traveled to Egypt, explored in France and finally landed back at the beginning.

Poppet barked as he trotted further up the road and turned, waiting for her to catch up. It was time she traveled home to maybe find a husband and possibly settle down on a nice Virginian farm. Clara highly doubted it for no man liked a woman as stubborn as she, especially one who explored the world.

After two days of non-stop traveling, by both car and foot, Clara was more than ready to reach Southampton. It was true, the White Star Line had their own train to take passengers to the ship but the young girl enjoyed walking. Poppet probably wouldn't like the train anyway and Clara was determined to take him with her. She found the dog while in France and decided he provided her with more than enough company. He distracted her by barking excitedly at something in the road ahead of them.

When she reached the top of the hill she looked down into Southampton. Readjusting her pack, Clara clipped Poppet's leash to his leather collar and headed towards the city. People of all classes, ages and race crowded around the docks to stare at the towering ship. An adventurer at heart, Clara couldn't wait to clamber aboard and look around. The pamphlets stated clearly that first-class passengers wouldn't see hide nor hair of third-class, which was fine with her; she didn't like first-class pomp anyway.

Dusk came early as Clara made her way to the docks with Poppet on her heels and even he seemed intimidated by the looming white liner. Other passengers pointed and gawked, entirely encased by the shadow of the ship. One lady turned to Clara and grinned broadly as she spoke in a heavy English accent.

"Folks claim she is unsinkable and they've assured us third-class passengers will find it extravagant."

Clara laughed as she studied the ship and its four funnels, thinking the height alone was overwhelming let alone the smell of freshness.

"It better be, considering they were the most expensive third-class tickets I've ever bought. I'm Clara." Clara extended her hand and the woman took it with a smile.

"Ivine Strass, call me Ivy and it is a pleasure to meet you, Clara. Your name sounds significant, are you from around here?"

"Nah, I'm from New York originally, but I decided to branch out on my own, see the world before I'm ensnared to the home life."

"New York? You are a ways from home! I'm from London and of no real importance. Say, what room do you have?"

Clara reached into the folds of her dress and withdrew her precious ticket.

"Something in the lower levels, that's for sure, here shall we take a look at yours?"

Ivy compared her ticket to Clara's and grinned when she saw that they shared a room.

"Where are you staying tonight, Miss Forsyth?"

"I just got here Miss Strass, if you have a suggestion I'll gladly take it."

Ivy held out her arm and Clara took it, Poppet tagged behind them wagging his long, brown tail.

"The glorious thing about not belonging to their society is the fact we may act however we please, talk however we please and live as we wish." Ivy said after a moment and Clara couldn't help but agree.

"If I may, who's escorting you?"

"Child, I am quite like you, alone in my travels and damn proud of it! No man ever told me what to do and I ain't ready to start now!" Ivy winked as she lead Clara towards a dockside tavern where loud music bellowed from inside.

Men sat playing cards while woman smoked and tittered to one another, the smell of food tempted Clara. One man glared at her as she led Poppet past him, he looked like he belonged in a country club not a tavern. Ivy seemed to know her way around as she headed towards the back of the room.

"Marlene, this is Clara Forsyth, she'll need a room for the night she being another grand, important Titanic passenger!" Ivy chuckled as a rather large woman came around the bar and studied Clara and Poppet.

"Really? Looks t' be another one o' us Ivy, I can provide 'er a room for a few coins. Come this way me darlin'." Marlene pushed open a ratted door to reveal a flight of steps that she, Clara and Poppet climbed.

Once on the second floor, Clara inhaled the smell of smoke, drink and people. It wasn't grand; of course she hadn't had grand since the day she left her family. They weren't rich, the Forsyth's of New York, however they were once second-class and knew how to live things up. Marlene unlocked door number five and stepped aside allowing Clara and her dog to enter.

"It isn't all proper but it'll suffice till the morrow for yew, enjoy it me darlin' an' come down later for a bit of food an' drink." Marlene smiled warmly as she shut the door leaving Clara and Poppet alone.

Clara fell onto her bed and opened the pack, it looked more then tattered from the many days she spent carrying it. Poppet flopped on the bed, one eye cracked as though guarding Clara while she arranged her things. Before she left for her travels, her father sent for several dresses from the very best, local dressmaker. Clara managed to keep one out of the five from mild ruin and it was that one she planned on boarding the Titanic in.

Her family saw its shares of disappointments but the last one floored them, especially her father. Her father embraced the fact his daughter sought a better life and even funded her for quite some time. After three years his faithful letters finally ceased and Clara feared the worst, that being the reason she bought the tickets.

"Well Poppet, what say you to getting some sleep before we leave tomorrow eh?" Clara patted the Saint Bernard's smooth, glossy fur then turned out the lights.

*

Nathaniel West sat in his family's car staring out the window and feeling dejected. Off again, returning to the West estate in New York where the summer parties would continue. He tired of the constant glamour, the never-ending complaints of the women and spending, so much spending! Nate, as his closest friends called him, restlessly rubbed his palms together wondering what the summer would bring. His family, especially his mother, expected him to marry into a wealthy family. Not that the West family found their fortunes dwindling, because they had plenty.

"Nathan you look so worn, so thin, you must try and cheer up darling. You will see over the past two years the girls in New York have grown into fine young women. After we situate you with an appropriate bride we shall have to get you a proper business education." Emily West smiled at her son as he rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to the window.

It was the same conversation day in and day out with scarcely a break between marriage and politics. Nate had half a mind to get up one day at the dinner table, declare he wanted a separate life and walk away. Such an action would warrant disownment; however, he found it a tempting idea. Hearing about the Titanic, then having his parents secure first class sought after parlor suite tickets on the ship...well Nate decided to stick around.

At five foot nine, he was a handsome man with hazel colored hair and striking green eyes. Many women fawned over him but he paid them little attention. A woman might have money and looks but if she didn't have a mind of her own, Nate didn't want anything to do with her. Oh, he did his share of speaking to guests, nodding politely at their gossip but he didn't care for them. It didn't go without notice in his parent's eyes.

Nate figured he might casually glance at a woman or two aboard the ship before he went back to the city. Perhaps he might find a friend, an acquaintance that he might stay in contact with once he reached New York. Not many men cared for Nate's company because he spent too much time voicing what they thought useless facts.

"Nathan, your mother speaks the truth you know. I feel this shall be the year our son sets out to start a family of his own with a job of interest and pay."

"Father, please, may we just enjoy this trip and not discuss my future? I am a man; I should be able to choose my own fate!" Nate snapped, which shocked his father who nodded and fell quiet.

Their car ground to a halt near the Queenstown docks' where the West's barrowed several rooms in Uncle Fenwick's house. They weren't near to Fredrick West's brother, but decided it was better than staying in some petty hotel. Nate quickly slammed the door behind him as he jumped out and hurried up to the faded, white house. Uncle Fenwick threw open the door and greeted them in his heavy Irish accent.

"Tis about time my brother comes to visit me and brings his dashing family along! And look at you, young Nate, so tall and pretty too! I bet you've got the ladies swoonin' don't you?"

"Fenwick we're appreciative that you so willingly opened your house to us, however, please remember who we are." Mrs. West said in a firm tone causing the smile to slide off Fenwick's face.

"Of course, how may I forget my position, eh? I stayed whilst my brother moved to America, lost his accent, his history and started anew. Make yourselves welcome, my home be your home." Uncle Fenwick hobbled away from the door allowing the family to enter.

Nate instantly found an empty room facing the docks and quickly shut the door hoping his parents might leave him alone. As the sun faded and his parents didn't call for him, Nate began to relax as he laid belly first on the small bed. He dreamed of being like Uncle Fenwick, free and happy without pressure to be great. The bed squeaked as Nate turned to stare out the window at the rolling waves. A knock sounded on the door and he sighed hoping it wasn't his father.

"Come in," he shouted and waited.

Uncle Fenwick slowly entered and carefully sat in a wicker chair facing Nate. He studied his nephew for a moment.

"You know lad you shouldn't listen t' your mum and da ifn it bothers you so much, do what I did an' go out on your own."

"They want me to marry the Winston girl from down the street because she's a suitable young woman, finely groomed."

"Well lad what is it that you want? If you want a woman who's got a head on her shoulders and tis stubborn, then find her. What have you got to lose?"

"The family fortune, mother and father would disown me if I left."

Uncle Fenwick slowly rose from the chair making it screech as he did.

"They treat you as though you were a woman, grow up, get a mind of your own Nate, ifn they really care they'll take yew back. Well, lad, I hope you find your quarter's comfortable, goodnight and good luck on your journey." Uncle Fenwick carefully shut the door and left Nate to his thoughts.

Nate undressed then crawled beneath the chilly wool covers to try and catch some sleep before the morning. He thought about Uncle Fenwick and the life the man led. It was true his family disowned Uncle Fenwick after leaving for his home country of Ireland. He made it, even owned a two-story house near the docks and had his own fishing business. Perhaps, Nate thought, perhaps he might take Nate on as an apprentice. Nate smiled and slowly fell asleep dreaming of a life where he was in charge, a life without his father and mother.