Page 55 of The Missing Pages
“I’m quite fortunate that it was you who took over Mr. Quaritch’s correspondence with me. Meeting you has been the real prize, not my latest book purchase.”
“Even the Bacon?” she whispered, as she leaned in, her eyes widening like saucers.
“Well, if you must know… yes, even the Bacon.” And then we both laughed.
I waited until our food arrived before I brought up the topic of her traveling on theTitanicwith the precious, bejeweled book bound for its New York owner. If Ada was going to indeed be its official chaperone, then her ticket on the steamer’s maiden voyage needed to be booked at once. I wasn’t sure how many cabins were still even available, as Father had secured ours almost as soon as the boat’s departure date was initially set.
“So, can I assume you still want to escort theRubaiyaton theTitanic?” I asked.
Ada smiled and took a bite of her food.
“Of course, I’d love to do that. Who wouldn’t want to take a trip on the most luxurious liner that’s ever been built?”
“I’ve read the brochure and it does seem rather incredible. There’s even a bowling alley.”
“It sounds like a floating hotel with every possible luxury,” she said.
“Yes, a vacation at sea,” I mused. “Your only responsibility would be to deliver the book safely to New York.” I put my fork down. “And, of course, I would be there in case you ran into any difficulties.”
“You would come to my rescue then, Harry?”
“Of course,” I said as I puffed out my chest. “Though my skills might be better served in getting you through customs once we arrive, rather than anything nautical while en route.”
We both took another sip of champagne. Her eyes twinkled over the rim of her crystal flute.
“You’re rather funny for an American, you know that?”
“For an American?” I protested. “I think I’d hold my own against any of these Oxbridge men,” I said as I surveyed the room.
She gave a quick glance around as well, then nodded in agreement. “I can only judge by how little laughter I hear coming from the other ladies in the room,” she said, then took another sip from her glass.
“So you’ve made your decision then,” I continued. “In that case, we’ll need to push Mr. Quaritch to have a conversation with Sangorski about your travel arrangements.”
“So there’s now much for him to weigh in on,” she added. “Whether he’ll bid on the Rossetti… whether he should support me escorting the book on theTitanic.”
I lifted my glass, as did she. “Let’s toast to it all working out.” We clicked our glasses, smiling as we each took our last swallow.
We stayed out later than we’d expected that evening, being the last couple to leave the restaurant. I could have talked to her all night, and was crestfallen when the headwaiter made several hints regarding their need to close for the evening.
“I will stop by the store tomorrow,” I told her as I reached for my billfold. “Now, let me get you home so you have at least a few hours of well-deserved sleep.”
I had made arrangements to have all of my purchases other than the Little Bacon shipped back to Lynnewood Hall. So it washardly unusual that I returned to Quaritch’s the next morning to make sure my account was paid up and the shipping and custom forms all had the correct information on them.
Ada’s was the first face I saw when I entered the store. “Mr. Widener,” she greeted me formally, but her lips curled in a smile. I knew very well she could never be on a first name basis with me at the store, nor reveal that we’d spent so many hours together yesterday. But I wanted to kiss her right then and there. The feeling was so strong, it felt like it was bubbling up inside me.
But instead, I just looked at her, hoping we could communicate through our own language. One that transcended words.
Her smile buoyed me, but she was better at this than I was. “Wonderful to see you again. How can I help you this morning?”
“I’m here to settle my bill and to discuss a few matters with Mr. Quaritch.”
“He’s in the back.” She put down a folder. “I’m afraid we’ve had a rather busy morning,” she added.
Ada then leaned in, her voice softening. “Mr. Quaritch has passed on the Rossetti book.”
“Will there be any other bidder for it, then?” I asked.
“I’ve been informed that the seller has already turned down an eight-pound offer.”
