This morning at shuffleboard, a man who we had thought was a priest attempted to assassinate the Count! I was on a lounger with Violet, but Louis and Lord Covington miraculously saved the day by drawing pistols and shooting the terribly rude assassins. I've no idea where they had them hidden, but they certainly had more in a hand in saving the Count than his bodyguards! My brother-in-law, the hero! Searle would be so proud.
Needless to say the Count was bundled off and I did not see anything of him for the rest of the day. Doctor Webber put his talents to work, saving the head steward to the Captain's delight. Violet disappeared off with him and I went to my luncheon with Annie.
Annie is a delightful girl. So innocent, so wondrous. She is exactly the type who should not be out in the world without guidance. Needless to say I've taken it upon myself to help her. We convinced her she should still attend the Captain's table, and I am going to do my best to impart what wisdom I can in our short time on board.
This afternoon the gentlemen played cards with some of the other First Class passengers, and apparently got cheated! I'm shocked to think that such dishonest practices have crept into First Class, but I suppose with all this new money, we will find more, shall we say, disreputable characters joining our tables. I know I really should not talk too much in this regard, but I've been with the Vanderbilts for so long it feels sometimes that I was born to this life.
Dinner at Captain's table was once again delicious. Once again I managed escorts for all the ladies, including Martha and Annie. Having consulted with Louis beforehand, I also managed to separate out a Mr. Crowe and Mr. Meeks, the two "gentlemen" from the game that afternoon. Without the support from each other, the two very quickly found themselves floundering the good company. I shall not weep if they do not reappear at table.
I am off to bed after some more light reading. I know my retelling is brief, but it has been quite the day! I shall pick this up anon.