“I want to choose you,” I whispered, my heart thudding with certainty. “But I must save Mary.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment, and then Austen let out a sigh and put his arm around me again.
We both knew the truth.
This wouldn’t last.
It couldn’t.
20
November 4, 1938
London, England
It was cold and cloudy as we stood on the airfield at Heston Aerodrome just outside of London. I shivered as Papa handed his suitcase to a flight attendant, who brought it on board the large silver airplane that would take Papa and the Lindberghs from London to Berlin.
“I wish you weren’t going.” Mama readjusted Papa’s tie as he stood before her to say good-bye.
“I won’t be gone long,” he promised as he placed his hands on her arms and kissed her forehead. “I will be back before you know it.”
The Lindberghs had already boarded the airplane, and I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Lindbergh sitting near a window. She had invited Mama to come along one more time, but Mama kindly refused. She didn’t want to miss the grand opening of the Jack the Ripper exhibit at Lancaster House, planned for November 7th. At least, that was the excuse she gave.
“I’m sorry I’ll miss your big day,” Papa said as he turned to me. “But I’ll be the first in line to see it when I return.”
I stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t mindthat you’ll miss the grand opening,” I assured him. “Just get back to us safely. That’s all I care about.”
“And as soon as you get back,” Mama added, “we’ll book our tickets for home.” She looked between Papa and me. “That’s the plan, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I nodded, knowing that she was eager to return home and leave England and the looming war behind us. It would affect us in Washington, DC, but not like it would if we had to stay in London.
“Good-bye,” Papa said as he smiled. “I love you both.”
Mama took a step forward, anxiety in her voice. “You promise this is safe, Luc? The threat with Germany is on hold for now?”
He nodded and then drew her into his arms for another hug. “I promise it’s safe,mon petit oiseau.” It was what he’d called her ever since she’d learned to fly. His little bird. “When have you known me to be reckless?”
Mama chuckled affectionately as she pulled back to look at him. “Every day since I met you.”
He grinned, and I could see the young, fearless aviator in his smile. The one who had been a daredevil pilot in 1912, perfecting the death dive, flying over Niagara Falls, and stunning his audiences with his aeronautical skills. The pilot Mama had fallen in love with.
The engines of the airplane roared to life.
Papa gave Mama a quick kiss and then sprinted toward the waiting airplane.
Mama and I stepped back to watch the airplane take off, and then we made our way to the car that had brought us to Heston Aerodrome.
“Well,” Mama said with a sigh as we settled into our seats. “I knew your father was fearless when I married him in 1912. He’s done scarier things before this.”
I took her hand in mine as the driver pulled away from the aerodrome and headed back toward London and our next appointment.
“He’ll be home in no time,” I echoed his promise, “and he’ll befull of all sorts of fun stories. He lives for aviation and adventure. I’m thankful he is still able to experience it.”
“I am, too, no matter how much it scares me.”
We enjoyed a quiet ride into the city and headed toward Buckingham Palace. I’d been looking forward to this afternoon for the past week since Lady Astor had secured an invitation for us to have a private tour of Buckingham Palace. It had been at my request, under the guise of my work with the Smithsonian and the London Museum, but I had an ulterior motive. Mr. Hornby at the Masonic research library claimed that there was a second copy of Sir Warren’s book, with his original notes included, in the king’s collection, and I wanted to see them. There had to be more to the story than I’d been told, and I was determined to find it.
IfI could locate the book.
