Titanic: How to get away with Murder by Hana of Forever

A/N: Hello again , it has been a while! Read, review, say rude things, I don't mind haha. First story in ages! Next I'll write a Jack and Rose fic or something, it would be easier.

Chapter 1

The fourteenth of April 1912, the RMS Titanic had been at sea for several days after leaving the port of Southampton on the tenth. It was in Southampton that thirty year old Elizabeth Anderson had boarded with her husband, Henry. Their marriage of twelve years had been a typical one of the upper classes at the dawn of the twentieth century, it was arranged by their parents to keep old money with old money, a passionless, loveless match, Elizabeth was American and Henry was English, so she had had to move across the Atlantic. There had been no children to break the routine of their daily lives; Elizabeth stayed at home, Henry went to work, that was all there was to it.

On the afternoon of the fourteenth, Elizabeth sat at the delicate table in their cabin, tea in a white china cup held in one black-gloved hand, with the other hand she pushed a lock of blonde hair that had come free from her intricate hairstyle behind her ear. Her maid, Joy, had piled Elizabeth's hair up on her head that morning, it was heavy and felt as though it were not balanced very well. She sighed to herself, she wanted something to do, just as she had thought that there was the sound of someone beginning to open the door, so she dropped her hand to her lap and continued to drink the tea as she waited for the door to open.

Her family had a house in New York state, her mother and father refused to leave America for anything that was not a wedding or a funeral, so she had been delighted when Henry announced that he had bought tickets for them to sail on the Titanic, in first class of course. Though she did not care much for the grandness of the ship, as she was used to it and the white of the walls and the gleam of the glass reminded her of the coldness of her marriage.

Henry entered the room, closing the door carefully behind him and he forced a smile onto his tired features, pale, almost grey, skin wrinkling around a tight mouth, the smile did not reach his dull eyes.

"Elizabeth," he said as he walked over to the table that she was seated at.

She raised her head to force a smile in return, her silver earrings jangling against her chin.

"What is it?" she asked as he sat down opposite her,

A vase of pastel-coloured flowers made of silk was on the table between them, Henry shifted them to one side so he could see his wife better.

"That is a nice dress that you are wearing," he said, she glanced down at the long, pale blue dress she had on, as if she had forgotten what she was wearing.

"You have seen me wear this before and you never said anything about it then," she replied, narrowing her dark eyes in suspicion,

"You think I want something, don't you?" he said, he wasn't smiling anymore, a strand of his carefully parted hair hung over his forehead and moved as he spoke, Elizabeth could not help but watch it. She put both of her hands on the table, looking as attentive as possible.

Yes," he said slowly, considering each word as if even a single slip up could spell disaster, "There is something I want."

"Tell me what it is, husband," Elizabeth said, noticing his evasiveness,

"I have kept this from you for too long, I was thinking of concealing it longer, but I'm sure that could only make things worse," he said, false sympathy in his eyes.

"Tell me now," she replied, not raising her voice, but still demanding,

"I want a divorce," he said bluntly after a short pause,

"I'll be ruined..." she started calmly, not gasping or showing any sign of surprise.

"I bought us tickets on this ship because our neighbours, the two DeWitt Bukaters, are travelling to America also,"

Elizabeth noticed this because she had been glad to sit with people she knew at dinner for the three nights that had come before, but she had thought it was just coincidence that they were on the same ship. The families were close, so close in fact that their maids were sisters, Trudy Bolt working for the DeWitt Bukaters and Joy Bolt working for the Andersons.

"Their maid, Trudy, is pregnant." Henry said, looking away from Elizabeth's cold glare,

"You did not..." Elizabeth started, horror moving into her eyes, widening them.

This idea sickened Elizabeth more than the divorce; she did not want to think that another woman could succeed where she could not. A baby was one of the few things that Elizabeth never had, she had never created new life, just lived quietly in the one that she had been given.

"Yes, I did, and a lovely girl she is too, more deserving of a life of luxury than you, I mean, I never even liked you!" Henry snarled, the illusion of calm broken.

In the spring of 1900, they married under the approving looks of both of their sets of parents, an eighteen year-old girl and a twenty-eight year old man, rings of solid gold on white fingers, no smiles or tears of happiness, only the serious-lipped stares that were preserved in a photograph. Elizabeth remembered this day with a silent spite, the memories of that day, combined with what her husband had just said changed something in Elizabeth. She no longer thought in pale pinks, passive colours that did not disturb the eye, now her thoughts turned to red, of blood and of revenge. The thought of Trudy's belly turning rounder and rounder, Trudy enjoying her nice life as a woman of the gentry, whereas Elizabeth would be ruined and nothing.

Her hands crept to her face, black velvet soft on her cheeks.

"We were both born into lives like this, it's not up to you to take it from me," she whispered,

"Well, I can," he replied, "I need to be free and I need Trudy."

He smiled in a smug fashion, not looking at Elizabeth, as if he were imagining being with his new woman, holding her in his arms, owning her.

"Whatever happens to you, you will deserve it," Elizabeth hissed,

"Why would anything happen to me? Don't worry, Elizabeth, you can go and live with your parents in New York state, no man would marry you after this, but then again, you never were the sort for marriage anyway," he smiled.

She knew what she had to do.

A/N: Good? Bad? Seriously stupid? Let me know!