“I didn’t want to buy you a black one,” Hortie said apologetically. “It’s too grim, and you can wear it pretty soon. I hope that’s all right.”

“I love it!” Annabelle reassured her, and meant it. It had a beautiful lace collar, and it was the subtlest powder pink. It looked wonderful with Annabelle’s skin and hair.

The two young women had lunch together several times that week, and felt very grown-up going to the Astor Court at the St. Regis Hotel. Hortie was taking her new status very seriously, dressed up, wearing the jewelry James had given her, and looked very grand. When they went to lunch, Annabelle wore the new fur coat her mother had given her for Christmas. And she felt a little like she was playing dress-up in her mother’s closet. She was wearing Josiah’s bracelet on her arm.

“Where did you get that?” Hortie asked when she noticed it. “I like it.”

“So do I,” Annabelle said simply. “Josiah Millbank gave it to me for Christmas. It was very nice of him. He gave Mama a scarf.”

“You two looked great together at my wedding.” And then suddenly Hortie’s eyes lit up, as she had an idea. “What about him?”

“What about him?” Annabelle looked blank.

“For you, I mean. You know, as a husband.” Annabelle laughed in response.

“Don’t be stupid, Hort. He’s twice my age. You sound like Mama. I swear, she’d marry me off to the milkman if she could.”

“Is the milkman cute?” Hortie was laughing at the thought.

“No. He’s about a hundred years old and has no teeth.”

“Seriously, why not Josiah? He likes you. He’s always hanging around.”

“We’re just friends. We like it that way. Getting mushy about it would mess everything up.”

“That’s a very nice bracelet to give to just a friend.”

“It’s only a present, not a proposal. He came to dinner on Christmas Eve. It was so sad this year,” she said, changing the subject.

“I know,” Hortie said sympathetically, forgetting about Josiah for the moment. “I’m sorry, Belle, it must be awful.” Annabelle only nodded, and they moved on to other topics, mostly clothes. Hortie couldn’t imagine what she’d wear when she got bigger. She was planning to go to her mother’s dressmaker to figure it out in the next few weeks. She said her waistband was already getting tight, and her corset was killing her. And she swore her breasts had doubled in size.

“Maybe you’re having twins,” Annabelle suggested with a smile.

“Wouldn’t that be funny?” Hortie said, laughing. She couldn’t begin to envision what that entailed, and it was all one big thrill for her right now.

She was a little less thrilled two weeks later, when she started to get nauseous. And for the next two months, she hardly got out of bed. She felt awful. It was the middle of March before she felt decent again. Until then, Annabelle had to visit her, since Hortie wouldn’t go out. Hortie hadn’t been to a party since Christmas, and she wasn’t nearly as delighted with her pregnancy as she’d been before. She felt fat and sick most of the time, and she said it was no fun at all. Annabelle felt sorry for her, and brought her books and flowers, and magazines to look at. It became her main mission in life to cheer Hortie up. And then finally, in April, Hortie got out of bed. She looked obviously pregnant by then, and she was already five months. All the women in her family said it was only one baby, but she was huge, and her mother said it was going to be a boy.

It was Hortie’s only topic of conversation, and most of the time, she just lay there and complained. She said she felt like a whale. And she said that James hardly made love to her anymore, which was really disappointing. He went out with his friends most nights alone, and promised her that when the baby came, they’d make up for it and go out all the time. But her mother reminded her that she’d be nursing then and even if she wasn’t, she’d still have a baby to take care of. So being grown-up didn’t seem like so much fun after all. Annabelle was infinitely patient, listening to her whine and moan, and now Hortie cried all the time too.

Consuelo had planned a service for the anniversary of Arthur and Robert’s deaths that month. It was held at Trinity Church again, with a luncheon afterward at the house. All her father’s close friends were there, and several cousins including Madeleine Astor, whose late husband was Consuelo’s cousin, and Josiah came, of course, as well as everyone from the bank, including Henry Orson.

Josiah had been at the house a lot in recent months, always helpful, always pleasant, always with a joke or a smile, or a little present. He had bought Annabelle a series of medical books, which she loved, and Gray’s Anatomy. Other than Hortie, he had become her best friend in the world, and he was better company now since he wasn’t pregnant, and feeling sorry for himself all the time. Annabelle always had a good time with him, and lately he had started taking her to nice restaurants for dinner. Once the anniversary date was behind them, she was looking forward to going to social events with him. She hadn’t been anywhere, other than Hortie’s wedding, for over a year. Before the sinking of the Titanic, her parents had been gone for two months, and she’d been sick for a month before that, so she hadn’t gone out socially in fifteen months. At her age, that was a long time.

She was turning twenty in May. And two weeks after the church service for her father and brother, Josiah invited her to what promised to be a very fancy dinner at Delmonico’s, where Annabelle had never dined, and she could hardly wait. She bought a new dress for the occasion, and her mother did her hair. Consuelo suspected what was coming, and for both their sakes, she hoped it would go well.

Josiah came to pick her up at seven. He had his own car this time, and the minute he saw Annabelle in the new dress, he whistled. It was a delicately pleated ivory silk that showed off her shoulders, and she was wearing a white silk shawl. It was in sharp contrast to the dismal black she’d been wearing for so long. Her mother was still dressed in mourning and had said that she didn’t feel ready to give it up yet. Annabelle was afraid she never would. But she had been grateful to put her own black dresses away. It was time.

They got to the elegant restaurant at seven-thirty, and were shown to a quiet corner table. It felt so exciting to be out, and to have dinner with Josiah. Even more so than she had with Hortie, she felt terribly grown-up as she sat across the table from him and took off her shawl. She was still wearing the gold bracelet he had given her for Christmas. She never took it off.

The waiter asked her if she’d like a cocktail, and she nervously declined. Her mother had warned her not to have too much to drink, except some wine. It wouldn’t make a good impression, she’d said to her daughter, if Annabelle got drunk at dinner. She had laughed at the prospect and told her mother not to worry. Josiah ordered a scotch and soda, which startled Annabelle. She had never seen him drink hard liquor before, and wondered if he was nervous too, though she couldn’t imagine why, since they were such good friends.

“Would you like some champagne?” he offered when his drink came.

“No, I’m fine,” and then she giggled. “My mother told me not to get drunk and embarrass you.” He laughed too. There was nothing they couldn’t say to each other. They discussed a thousand topics of interest, and they enjoyed each other’s company. They both ordered the restaurant’s famous Lobster Newburg, and Baked Alaska for dessert.

They had a lovely evening with each other, and with dessert, Josiah ordered champagne for both of them. The waiter brought the bottle to the table and opened it for them, and Annabelle smiled as she took a sip. She had only had one glass of wine with dinner, so her mother’s warning had stood her in good stead.

“That’s delicious,” Annabelle commented. He had ordered a particularly fine bottle. Josiah had had more to drink than she had, but he was still sober too. He wanted to keep his wits about him for what he had to say. He had been saving it for a long time, and the day had finally come. He had butterflies in his stomach, as he smiled and toasted her.

“To you, Miss Worthington, and the wonderful friend you’ve become,” he complimented her, and she smiled.

“So have you,” she said gently, taking another sip of champagne. She didn’t have the faintest inkling of what he had in mind. He could see it on her face. She was innocence itself.

“I have a wonderful time with you, Annabelle,” he said simply, and it was true.

“Me too,” she echoed. “We always have a lot of fun.” She started to talk about the medical books he’d given her then, and he gently cut her off, as she looked surprised. He usually let her rattle off for hours about what she’d learned in those books.

“I have something to say to you.” She looked at him blankly, wondering what it was. She hoped nothing was wrong. “I’ve waited a long time to say this. I didn’t think it would be right to say it before April, because of the anniversary. And your birthday is coming up soon. So here we are.”

“Are we celebrating something?” she asked naïvely, feeling a slight buzz from the champagne.

“I hope so,” he said softly. “That depends on you. It’s up to you to decide. What I’ve wanted to tell you since last summer is that I’m in love with you. I don’t mean to upset the applecart of our friendship, or to startle you. But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, Annabelle. I think we’re wonderful together, and I can’t stay single forever. I’ve never met a woman who made me want to settle down. But I can’t think of a better foundation for doing that than being best friends, which we are. So I would like to ask you to do me the honor of marrying me, if you will.” As he said the words, he saw Annabelle staring at him in complete amazement. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were wide.

“Are you serious?” she asked him when she finally caught her breath.

He nodded. “Yes, I am. I know this comes as a surprise to you, and you can think about it if you need to. Annabelle, I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He couldn’t tell if she was happy or angry. Most of all, she looked shocked.

“I thought I should wait until now.” She nodded. It was proper and made sense. And Josiah always did the right thing. It was one of the things she loved about him. She was still staring at him in disbelief. “Are you upset?” he asked, looking worried, and she shook her head. There were tears in her eyes when she looked at him.

“No, of course not. I’m very touched,” she said, reaching out to take his hand.

“I know I’m a lot older than you are. I could be your father. But I don’t want to be. I want to be your husband, and I promise I’ll take good care of you forever.”

She believed that as she listened to him, and then wondered, “Does my mother know?” It explained her occasional discreet suggestions about Josiah, all of which Annabelle had brushed off.

“I asked her permission in October, and she said yes. I think she believes it would be a good thing for both of us.”

“So do I,” Annabelle whispered with a shy smile. “I just never expected this to happen. I thought we were just friends.”

“We still are,” he replied, smiling too. “And if you accept, we always will be. I think a husband and wife should be best friends, along with everything else. I would like to share children with you, and the rest of my life. And I will always, always be your friend.”

“So would I,” she said, looking misty. And the thought of having children with him shocked her a little, but touched her heart. As she listened to him, she tried not to think about all the antics Hortie had described in Paris. What she shared with Josiah seemed so much more pure. She hated to spoil that. But Hortie had always been a little crazy, and now that she’d discovered sex, she’d gotten worse. The only thing that was slowing her down now was getting fatter day by day.

“Would you like some time to think about it? I know this came as a surprise. I’ve been biting my tongue for a long time.” And then he laughed. “That’s why I had a scotch, and half a bottle of wine tonight, and now champagne. I guess your mother should have warned me not to get drunk. It took a little courage to ask. I wasn’t sure if you’d slug me or say yes.”

“Are those my two choices?” she asked, reaching for his other hand. She was already holding one. “Slug you or say yes?”

“Essentially.” He smiled at her, and squeezed both of her hands in his own.

“It’s simple then. The answer is yes. If I slug you, it would make a terrible mess. They might throw us out of the restaurant. And you might not be my best friend anymore.”