time.’ Guinzburg guided his guest through to the dining room and they took their seats at what was clearly his usual corner table. ‘I hope you’re finding the Pierre to your liking,’ he said as a waiter handed them both menus.
‘It would be fine, if only I knew how to turn the shower off.’
Guinzburg laughed. ‘Perhaps you should ask Miss Redwood to come to your rescue.’
‘If she did, I’m not sure I’d know how to turn her off.’
‘Ah, so she’s already subjected you to her lecture on the importance of getting Nothing Ventured on to the bestseller list as quickly as possible.’
‘A formidable lady.’
‘That’s why I made her a director,’ said Guinzburg, ‘despite protests from several directors who didn’t want a woman on the board.’
‘Emma would be proud of you,’ said Harry, ‘and I can assure you that Miss Redwood has warned me of the consequences should I fail.’
‘That sounds like Natalie. And remember, she alone decides if you return home by plane or row boat.’
Harry would have laughed, but he wasn’t sure his publisher was joking.
‘I would have invited her to join us for lunch,’ said Guinzburg, ‘but as you may have observed, the Harvard Club does not allow women on the premises – don’t tell Emma.’
‘I have a feeling you’ll see women dining in the Harvard Club long before you spot one in any gentlemen’s club on Pall Mall or St James’s.’
‘Before we talk about the tour,’ said Guinzburg, ‘I want to hear everything you and Emma have been up to since she left New York. How did you win the Silver Star? Has Emma got a job? How did Sebastian react to meeting his father for the first time? And—’
‘And Emma insisted that I don’t go back to England without finding out what’s happened to Sefton Jelks.’
‘Shall we order first? I don’t care to think about Sefton Jelks on an empty stomach.’
‘I may not be catching the train to Washington, but I’m afraid I do have to get back to London tonight, Miss Barrington,’ said Professor Feldman after he’d signed the last book. ‘I’m addressing the London School of Economics at ten tomorrow morning, so I can only spare you a few minutes.’
Emma tried not to look disappointed.
‘Unless . . .’ said Feldman.
‘Unless?’
‘Unless you’d like to join me on the journey to London, in which case you’d have my undivided attention for at least a couple of hours.’
Emma hesitated. ‘I’ll have to make a phone call.’
Twenty minutes later, she was sitting in a first-class railway carriage opposite Professor Feldman. He asked the first question.
‘So, Miss Barrington, does your family still own the shipping line that bears their illustrious name?’
‘Yes, my mother owns twenty-two per cent.’
‘That should give the family more than enough control, and that’s all that matters in any organization – as long as no one else gets their hands on more than twenty-two per cent.’
‘My brother Giles doesn’t take a great deal of interest in the company’s affairs. He’s a Member of Parliament and doesn’t even attend the AGM. But I do, professor, which is why I needed to speak to you.’
‘Please call me Cyrus. I’ve reached that age when I don’t want to be reminded by a beautiful young woman just how old I am.’
Grace had been right about one thing, thought Emma, and decided to take advantage of it. She returned his smile before asking, ‘What problems do you envisage for the shipbuilding industry during the next decade? Our new chairman, Sir William Travers—’
‘First-class man. Cunard were foolish to let such an able fellow go,’ interrupted Feldman.
‘Sir William is considering whether we should add a new passenger liner to our fleet.’
‘Madness!’ said Feldman, thumping the seat beside him with a clenched fist, causing a cloud of dust to billow up into the air. Before Emma could ask why, he added, ‘Unless you have a surplus of cash that you need to dispose of, or there are tax advantages for the UK shipping industry that no one’s told me about.’
‘Neither, that I’m aware of,’ said Emma.
‘Then it’s time for you to face the facts. The aeroplane is about to turn passenger ships into floating dinosaurs. Why would any sane person take five days crossing the Atlantic Ocean, when they can do the same journey in eighteen hours by plane?’
‘More relaxing? Fear of flying? You’ll arrive in better shape?’ suggested Emma, recalling Sir William’s words at the AGM.
‘Out of touch and out of date, young lady,’ said Feldman. ‘You’ll have to come up with something