“There was a wager involving the auction of undergarments of a royal personage.”
He winced. “Yes, well, that was perhaps not one of my finer moments. Although it really wasn’t my idea.”
“Giving credit to someone else does not absolve you of responsibility,” she said primly. “There was a masked ball where the ladies in question—”
“That’s quite enough, but thank you for allowing me to relive my wicked ways.” He grinned. In hindsight, there were a great many things he’d done, and nearly as many that he’d failed to do, that now struck him as foolish and asinine. But nearly all of them had been fun at the time.
“Ways you say are in the past.”
“The very definition of reform.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“One does have to grow up at some point, you know.” He smiled wryly. “Whether one wants to or not.”
“One can only hope. But you can see why your past behavior does not engender complete trust in someone like Sir Martin.”
“I gather he is most trustworthy.”
“Well, he’s not prone to silly pranks and disgraceful behavior, so in that respect, yes. He is also honorable, respectable and quite brilliant.”
“He sounds perfect.”
“Good Lord, no.” She scoffed. “He is disorganized, prone to distraction and rarely sees anything through to completion.”
“I see. Quite a handful then for Lady Luckthorne,” he said even though he already knew there was no Lady Luckthorne.
“Oh, there is no Lady Luckthorne.”
“Then who manages his household, his staff, his social engagements? That sort of thing.”
“I do, of course.”
“I thought you were a secretarial assistant?”
“I fear the term is rather broad when it comes to Sir Martin.” She sipped her wine. “I do very nearly everything he needs so that he needn’t waste his valuable time and can spend it in more beneficial pursuits. Mostly of an intellectual or academic or scientific nature. Experiments and inventions and the like. As well as research, writing, collecting—that sort of thing.”
“And this honorable, respectable, brilliant gentleman sees nothing the least bit improper about an unmarried man working in close proximity with an unmarried woman in his own home.”
“Not at all.” She waved off the charge. “As there is nothing nor has there ever been anything untoward between us. Not that I would permit such a thing.”
“No doubt,” he said under his breath.
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”
“Scandal, my dear India, is as often as not in the eyes of the beholder. As aboveboard and innocent as it might be, some people might view your employment with Sir Martin to be more of an arrangement than a legitimate position.” He braced himself.
She stared at him for a long moment, then snorted back what might have been a laugh. “Then some people have never met either Sir Martin or myself.”
“Yes, well, trust me when I say it’s not necessary to know someone personally to spread tales about their misdeeds. I am a prime example of that.”
“In your case, there are witnesses to your misadventures.” She smiled in a smug manner. “Dozens I would say, perhaps hundreds.”
“And there are no witnesses as to what transpires between an odd sort of chap and his lovely assistant behind closed doors.”
“Do not attempt to charm me, Derek, with words like lovely. It will not work. And furthermore nothing goes on behind closed doors with Sir Martin. I do feel a certain...sisterly affection for him. In the manner I imagine I would an older brother. And I’m certain any feelings that he might have for me are very much the same.” She paused to finish her wine. “Goodness, I’ve worked for the man for eight years. I would think he would have said something by now if he felt otherwise.”
“And if he did?”
“I would leave his employment at once.” She held out her glass to be refilled yet again. “I will not allow myself to be put in an awkward position.”
“And yet you insisted on traveling with me.”
“That’s entirely different. We—” she aimed a pointed finger at him “—are traveling in pursuit of a higher purpose. A noble calling, if you will. We are off to rescue Heloise.”
“Whether she wants rescuing or not.”
“And we have chaperones,” she added. “Nothing here for witnesses to spread gossip about.”
“Come now, India, I would have thought you far smarter than that.” He met her gaze directly. “Surely you realize, whether it’s true or not, the most interesting, most tantalizing, juiciest gossip is about that behavior that has no witnesses at all.”
“Regardless, that doesn’t mean one can do whatever one wants. There are rules, Derek. And rules are meant to be followed.”
“Always?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, then paused. “Although I suppose there might be extreme circumstances under which it might be acceptable to bend or even break a rule. I can’t think of an example offhand, but I am willing to acknowledge the possibility.”
“How very broad-minded of you,” he said with a grin and raised his glass to her. “Here’s to finding an example.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
One should keep in mind where one is bound when selecting attire for a journey. A wardrobe for the Egyptian desert would not be appropriate in the Bavarian Alps. However, one can never go far afield with a good-quality skirt and sturdy walking boots. The knowledgeable lady traveler always checks her luggage more than once to make certain it is properly labeled. Lost luggage will disrupt the trip of even the most steadfast among us.
—The Lady Travelers Society Guide
EVEN AT THE house she shared with Heloise in London, India dressed for dinner. It was proper and expected. But her gray suit was simply not up to the task of dining yet again in Lord Brookings’s ornate Parisian dining room with its mural-painted walls and sparkling gold-and-crystal chandelier. Still, she made do—she had no choice. It would have been rude to have stayed in her room. Nonetheless, being impolite might well have been better than being present at dinner. She wouldn’t have believed it possible but she felt even more out of place at the table with his lordship, Derek and the Greers than she had in the lobby of the first Grand Hotel although the second, third and all the way through today’s seventh, while not quite as grand, were still impressive.
It was early evening when Derek decreed they were finished for the day and insisted they return to his stepbrother’s house. Her trunk had still not been located, but Suzette assured her it had probably simply been placed in the wrong room, more than likely in the wrong wing, and every effort was being made to find it. India wasn’t sure she completely believed the woman. What she’d seen of the household staff did not inspire confidence in their efficiency. It was not the least bit surprising that they had misplaced her trunk. However, she had to admit, the food here was excellent, if a bit rich. Still, there was too much on her mind to enjoy the meal or partake in the lively conversation. No one seemed to notice.
It was obvious that Estelle had fallen under the spell of both Derek and Lord Brookings, given the way the older lady fluttered her lashes and emitted the occasional giggle, not to mention the look of adoration in her eyes. As if she were a schoolgirl and not a woman in her late fifties.
Professor Greer seemed to have succumbed to their charms, as well, and much of the conversation consisted of reminiscences of his student days in Paris thirty-some years ago. The three men dedicated a considerable amount of time to comparing and contrasting the Paris of today—with its newly widened boulevards and recently constructed edifices—with the Paris of the professor’s youth. And as much as he appreciated the modern look of the city, he did speak longingly of twisted medieval stree
ts, narrow passageways and ancient buildings. There was a touch of longing, as well, in his memories of some of the more unsavory entertainments Paris had offered, and Lord Brookings assured him some things never change. Thankfully, Derek quickly directed the conversation toward other topics.
No, India would have preferred to avoid dinner altogether and wouldn’t have minded avoiding Derek, as well. She had not been inebriated at the café, but the wine had served to loosen her tongue. But when she reflected upon their conversation, there was little she said that she would not have said without the wine. Although she probably owed him an apology. Her dismissal of his desire not to disappoint was beyond rude; it was petty of her and unkind. A distinct sense of shame washed through her at the thought. He’d been nothing but nice to her, and she’d returned his kindness with sarcasm and disdain. Indeed, she couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t quite the scoundrel she’d thought he was but rather misguided in his attempt to prove his worth. It was a thought worth further consideration.
She excused herself after dinner, pleading weariness, which was not entirely untrue. Once more, she was forced to sleep in the same frilly nightwear she’d worn since her arrival while Suzette again took her clothes to be cleaned. While she wasn’t used to such luxury, the silken feel of the garment against her skin was delightful. The thought crossed her mind that she might wish to pamper herself and indulge in something similar when she returned home. And indulge in a mattress that was as welcoming as this one. Silly musings of course, no doubt attributable to this city and this house.
India had awoken this morning with renewed determination. She had again slept later than usual but woke earlier than the past two mornings, intending to join the rest of the household downstairs for breakfast. She’d surrendered to Suzette’s insistence on helping her dress and arranging her hair—even if the end result was decidedly more French than she would have preferred with her usual knot higher on her head and annoying tendrils of curls fringing her face. Suzette had declared it quite fetching, and India had wished to escape more than she’d wished to argue.
“Good morning,” she said brightly, entering the dining room. His lordship wasn’t present, no doubt this was entirely too early for him, but Derek and the Greers were engaged in animated conversation. Derek and the professor both stood at her arrival.
“Good morning, my dear.” Professor Greer smiled. “You look lovely today.”
“You do indeed, India.” Estelle nodded with enthusiasm. “Paris obviously agrees with you.”
“I wouldn’t wager on that.” Derek studied her curiously. “Is there something different about you today?”
“Nothing I can think of.” India resisted the urge to pat her hair back into its usual place. Her glance strayed to the sideboard. “Is that an English breakfast?”
“With a few French pastries thrown in for good measure.” Delight sounded in Estelle’s voice. “His lordship apparently appreciates the benefit of both French and English offerings at breakfast. Frederick and I think it’s a custom we might well adopt ourselves when we return home.”
“Lord Brookings has always believed in taking the best of both cultures,” Derek added. “There’s a specially blended coffee, as well.”
“How very...worldly of him.” India gestured to the others to take their seats, then hurried to the sideboard. It was a breakfast to rival even the heartiest offering to be found in England: eggs cooked three different ways, sausages, an assortment of cheeses, fish and fruit, as well as croissants and several other types of pastries. For a fleeting moment, she envied those whose wealth allowed them to indulge this way every morning. She filled her plate and took a seat at the table.
“Derek,” she began, “as much as I am eager to return to our search today, I’m afraid there will be an unavoidable delay.”
His brow rose. “A delay?”
She nodded. “I cannot continue to wear the same clothes day after day. As everyone has assured me my trunk must be here somewhere, I intend to take my maid and go through every room in this house until I find it.” India pulled apart a croissant and popped a bite in her mouth.
Derek and the professor traded glances.
“I do hope you intend to ask Lord Brookings before you go barging about his house, India,” Estelle said.
“I have every intention of doing so, but thank you for pointing that out to me.” India stabbed a piece of sausage. The sausages were particularly good.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, my dear,” the professor began, then glanced at Derek, who nodded in an encouraging manner. “But I was unaware your trunk was missing until this morning.”
Perhaps Heloise’s cook could learn to make French pastries.
“Frederick and Estelle had already left for the day when you awoke yesterday,” Derek said.
“Thank you for your concern, Professor,” India said and took a bite of eggs cooked with mushrooms and herbs. It was all she could do not to moan with delight.
“It’s more than concern really.” The professor cleared his throat. “I very much fear I am responsible.”
India froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Oh?”
“If I recall correctly, when I claimed our luggage the other night,” Professor Greer began, “it seemed more than sufficient for four people. There were a number of valises—I’m not sure exactly how many—and three trunks.”
“One of which was mine,” Derek said.
Estelle winced. “The others were ours.”
“I do apologize, but I had no idea we were missing your baggage.” Professor Greer shook his head. “I certainly would have said something at the time if I had realized we were one trunk short.”
“So my trunk is not in the house,” India said slowly.
“Apparently not.” Derek considered her with the same look one might give an unexploded bomb that could detonate at any moment. “However, the instant the professor informed me this morning, I personally returned to the station to see if your trunk was there with other lost bags.”
“And?” She held her breath.
“And...it wasn’t,” Derek said reluctantly. “It’s entirely possible it was somehow misdirected, and instead of coming to Paris it went off on its own travels.”
She set the fork down. “Where?”
Derek hesitated. “That does seem to be the question.”
She drew a deep breath and struggled to stay calm. “And do you have an answer?”
“Not yet.” Derek grimaced. “But I assure you, I am doing everything possible to recover your trunk. Val is lending his assistance, as well. I have no doubt it will turn up.” He paused. “Eventually.”
“Eventually?” She could barely choke out the word. “Eventually?”
“Sooner or later,” he said weakly.
“Yes, I know what eventually means,” she said sharply, her voice rising in spite of her best efforts.
“These things happen when one travels, my dear.” Estelle reached over and patted her hand. “I have never traveled myself, of course, but I understand this does happen on occasion. Why, one of the brochures from the Lady Travelers Society deals with this very subject and offers excellent advice on how to manage without one’s own things until one’s luggage is recovered.”
India had never experienced panic before, but what was surely panic rose within her now. “You belong to the Lady Travelers Society?”
“Oh my, yes.” Estelle dimpled. “I have from very nearly the beginning.”
And wasn’t that a revelation? Still, it scarcely mattered at the moment. Not when her stomach was twisting, and she could barely drag air into her lungs. Her vision narrowed, and the oddest black dots clouded the edge of her sight.
“If you will excuse me.” India got to her feet and braced her hands on the table, her knees unsteady as if they might fail h
er at any moment. Dear Lord, was this what it felt like to faint? She was not the type of woman who fainted. Indeed, she’d always had a certain contempt for women who fainted to avoid a pressing problem. In that, she might have been too harsh.
“Are you all right?” Derek jumped to his feet and circled the table toward her.
The professor frowned with alarm as he, too, stood. “You look extraordinarily pale.”
“No, I’m fine.” She pulled in a deep breath, then another.
“Are you sure?” Derek was beside her now, concern in his voice and his eyes. As well as a touch of what might well be guilt. “You don’t look well.”
Indeed, he should feel guilty. He was the one who had seen to the luggage at the beginning of their journey.
“No, really, I’m quite all right.” She straightened, her momentary distress swept aside by anger. Which would serve no one well. She needed to take her leave, at once, before she said something that would only make matters worse. “I think I shall retire to my room and consider all this.” She mustered a weak smile. “Thank you for your concern.” She quickly took her leave.
With every step, her ire eased. If one looked at this in a rational, sensible way, it probably wasn’t Derek’s fault, not completely. Oh certainly, he was responsible for the luggage, but as for the rest of it... It was simply easier to direct her fury at him than to place the blame where it belonged—squarely at her feet. But it had seemed such a clever idea at the time.
Martin had gone on and on about the dangers of travel. About thieves and pickpockets in cities like Paris. About the threats to women traveling even with companions. About how one could be knocked over the head and lose everything. It therefore didn’t seem at all wise to carry her funds in her traveling valise or on her person. Why, in her books of detection and mystery, where valuables were secreted in hidden places, no one ever found them until the final chapter. What could be safer than putting the bulk of her traveling funds in a hidden compartment in her trunk?
It had never been mentioned that the trunk itself could be lost!
The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen Page 13
