ship.â
âOh! You have something in common with Grandmother then.â
He smiled slightly. âYes. Ada and I have a great deal in common.â
Not wanting to pursue that subject, she said, âSo your grandfather told you about traveling on this ship?â
âNo,â Parsons said, looking out over the railing, toward the sea. âHe died before I was born. Even before my father was born. My grandfather died aboard the ship.â
âAboard the ship?â she repeated, stunned.
âYes. He was a young soldier, newly married. His wife was pregnant with their first child, although he didnât know that when he left for war. He was, by all accounts, a bright and talented man with a sense of humor; he used to draw cartoon sketches of his fellow soldiers and mail them home to my grandmother. He went off to war, not willingly parted from her, but willing to fight for his country.â He paused, then added bitterly, âHe was murdered before he had a chance to reach his first battle.â
âMurdered?!â
âYes.â
Sarahâs own thoughts raced. It was not difficult to see that under the crowded wartime conditions aboard the ship, tempers might easily flare. She suddenly knew without a doubt that his grandfather had been killed near the swimming pool; this, she was sure, accounted for Robertâs reaction when they were in that area of the ship.
âIâm sorry, Robert,â she said. âWhat a terrible blow for your grandmother.â
âShe didnât learn exactly what happened until many years later. She thought he had been killed in action.â
âWas the killer punished?â
âNo. He got away with it. Listen, I shouldnât be talking to you about this,â he said. âYouâre here for a pleasant occasion and Ada would tan my hide if she knew I wasââ
âAda doesnât entirely rule my life,â Sarah said. âIâm glad you told me. Does she know about your grandfather?â
âOh, yes.â
âAnd she still insisted on bringing you here!â
âSarah, as Iâve told you, Iâve been here before.â He smiled. âAnd not just to lay my family ghosts to rest. Iâll admit that was why I made my first visit, but I found I couldnât dislike this shipâsheâs not to blame for what happened to my grandfather. I suppose I fell in love with her style and elegance. She was built for pleasureâa thing of beauty, not death and destruction. And sheâs a survivor. Of all the great luxury liners built before the war, the Queen Mary is the only survivor.â
They resumed their tour of the ship. He had saved the art gallery, one of his favorite rooms on the ship, for last. As they left it, he said, âAsk Ada to tell you what sort of relationship I share with her.â
âWhy donât you tell me instead?â
âI promised her I would leave that to her.â
They soon reached the stateroom. As he was about to leave her at her door, he paused and said, âSomething was troubling you this morning.â
Her eyes widened.
He shrugged. âI saw it. In your face, I suppose. Your eyes.â
âIt was justâjust something silly,â she said. âJust a dream.â
âA nightmare?â
âI dreamed of that closetâthe one at the orphanage.â
âYouâre all right now?â
âYes. Iâll be fine.â
He started to walk off, then turned and said, âThank you for taking the tour with me.â
âMy pleasure,â she said softly.
W hen she had finished dressing for the party, Sarah knocked on her grandmotherâs door. Ada opened it herself, beckoning Sarah in as she returned to her dressing table. To Sarahâs surprise, Ada was nearly ready, and she was attired not in one of her wild ensembles, but in a very simple but elegant black dress.
âAre you feeling all right?â Sarah