Page 34 of The Missing Pages

“YOU VOLUNTEERED ME?” ADA’S LAUGH SOUNDED LIKE summer rain. “I only wish I had been there to see Bernard Alfred’s face.”

I took another sip of my wine. The lush surroundings of Verrey’s fell away from me. My attention was focused solely on Ada.

“He certainly was taken by surprise,” I told her. “But really, who would be a better chaperone than you?”

I knew that her being given the job as a courier wouldn’t tarnish her reputation at all, if anything it would add yet another accomplishment to her résumé,

“Ada Lippoldt, daughter of John and Lucy Lippoldt from Sheffield, England, the temporary caretaker in transit of a ￡1,000 book.” She giggled again. “No one would believe it.”

“Well I do, and Bernard Alfred agreed to consider it.”

“Really?” She shook her head. “I can hardly believe that.”

“Why?”

“A few reasons, to start. One, we’re quite understaffed at the shop and Mr. Quaritch relies on me to keep so much of his business organized.

So another lengthy trip abroad after I’ve just been to New York would be irritating to him, to say the least.” She cut another bite of food.

“And two, I doubt Mr. Cecil would allow me to be responsible for such precious cargo because, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a woman. ”

“I anticipated both of those responses already.” I leaned in closer.

“You did?”

“Yes,” I answered playfully. “I assured Bernard Alfred that I would be your—and therefore the book’s—‘silent chaperone.’ That to ensure everything went smoothly, I’d journey along with you and escort you and the book through customs.”

She still looked puzzled.

“I explained that the fastest way to get you to New York and back was if you sailed with me on the Titanic.”

“Is this really true?” Ada remained incredulous.

“Yes, the wheels are already in motion.” I paused. “That is, if you would like to go with me…”

“Of course I do!”

“That’s the answer I was hoping for.” I tapped the table. “And it’s not too long now. The Titanic sets sail on Wednesday, April the 10th, from Southampton.”

“Well, if this all does come to pass, I’d still have some time to show you London,” she said and laughed. Somehow throughout our conversation she’d managed to eat almost all of her roasted chicken.

“Twenty days exactly.” I wagged a finger.

“You’d better finish your steak, then,” she teased. “We have a lot to do before we leave.”