Page 61 of The Missing Pages
Ada caught my gaze and smiled.
“I’ll be ready and packed,” she said. “Thank you for such a gracious offer.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I insisted. I was trying to create as many moments alone with her as I could. Every extra minute felt like a gift.
CHAPTER FIFTY
WE SPED ALONG THROUGH THELONDON STREETS ANDheaded toward the station. In the backseat of the car, Ada kept the wrappedRubaiyaton her lap.
I had learned from my father and grandfather to always have a plan. So it was no surprise to me that as Ada sat so comfortably beside me that I began to imagine different scenarios in which I could extend her stay in the States, perhaps even have her prolong her return to London indefinitely.
“Would you ever consider working as a personal librarian?” I asked her.
“You mean like Belle da Costa Greene?”
“Yes. I know you met her while you were in New York the last time. Honestly, she’s one of the most celebrated professional women in the city. I’ve always been so impressed by her when we’ve crossed paths.”
She tipped her head against the window, her razor-sharp profile looking like a cameo cut against the glass. Her red hair glinted like a shiny copper penny in the sunlight.
“I have tremendous respect for Miss Greene and what she’s accomplished, particularly as one of the few women in the field. Mr. Morgan now has one of the most enviable libraries in the world… and so much of it is because of her expertise.”
“And his respect for her knowledge.”
“Yes, exactly.” Her eyes locked with mine. “I would be a fool if I didn’t consider a similar offer.”
Without me explicitly saying it, I sensed she knew why I was asking. Offering her a position as our family’s librarian would be the perfect solution to keep us close to each other. But I was also keenly aware that such a scenario had its own limitations. I wanted Ada to stay in America because I craved a future with her. I wanted the opportunity to court her publicly. But if she was employed by my family, the social gap between us would only deepen and increase nasty gossip and salacious headlines in the society pages. And while I knew that I could tolerate that, I wanted to find a way forward that prevented as much distress for Ada as possible.
Really what I needed to do was to find a graceful way to introduce Ada to my parents and have them discover her elegance, intelligence, and charm for themselves, just as I had. Her lack of social standing or familial wealth could not dampen their opinion for long. How many times had my father and his brother been snubbed by the old monied families of the East Coast because of Grandfather’s humble origins? Why, even my own sister had found herself often without an invitation to the most coveted balls in New York and Newport. My parents surely could not be guilty of doing the same thing to someone I adored. I was confident I only needed to find the right situation to introduce them. And nestled in the comfort and luxury of theTitanic, I would find the opportunity.
A gleaming black hull, sparkling white decks, and plumes of steam rising from its four funnels; theTitanicsoon greeted us in all its majestic splendor.
“I can’t believe it. It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.” Ada gripped my hand. From behind the car’s windshield, we inhaled the sheer wonder of its graceful lines.
“It looks infinite, Harry.”
Once again, she had chosen the perfect word. Indeed, it looked endless. Nearly nine hundred feet long, the vessel looked like it stretched for an eternity.
“And we’re only seeing the outside,” I added. With Father having invested in the White Star Line, I often heard him extoll the technology that had gone into its costly construction.
“It has the best engineering to date,” I told her. “The ship has sixteen watertight chambers that can be sealed off if the hull ever gets punctured.”
“It’s simply incredible,” she said, grinning as she took it all in.
The newspaper cameramen’s flashing bulbs sparkled along the dock as our car moved closer.
“I’ll let you get out first. The driver will make sure a porter takes your trunk.”
Without saying it, both of us knew it was best not to be photographed together and have any unnecessary gossip swirling before we’d even left Southampton.
“Thank you,” she said. “Mr. Quaritch has already given me instructions to bring this to the boat’s safe as soon as I board.”
“I was just about to suggest that,” I said. As our car came to a stop, the driver left us to find a porter. For a moment we were completely alone.
“We’re supposed to arrive at Cherbourg after six this evening,” I said.
“Yes, that’s when your parents arrive. You’ll be busy with them tonight, I imagine.”
“I would much rather be dining with you.”
