“We can certainly query the attendants in the various galleries,” Professor Greer said, “as well as talk to those purveyors of driving tours around the city.”
“And, as you do, you will be able to see all the sights of Paris for yourselves.” Derek leaned toward him and lowered his voice in a confidential manner. “I would imagine Mrs. Greer would be most displeased if you didn’t. Unlike you, she has never been to Paris, and unless you plan on returning—”
“Probably not.” A regretful note sounded in the professor’s voice.
“Then this is her only opportunity.” Derek shook his head mournfully. “I would not want to be the one to deprive her of that.”
“Neither would I.” The older gentleman shuddered.
“In which case, this shall work brilliantly,” Derek said with an encouraging smile.
“It still strikes me as a haphazard way to search for Lady Heloise.”
“Professor,” Derek said sincerely, “if you have a better idea, I am certainly willing to consider it.”
“I wish I did.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid finding lost items has never been my forte. It’s an enormous city, and given the influx of more travelers than usual for the exposition and the opening of Monsieur Eiffel’s tower, it seems rather futile, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it does.” Derek considered the other man for a moment. The professor was a good sort and could no doubt be trusted. And Derek could certainly use an ally. “Might I confide something to you? In the strictest of confidence?”
“Certainly.”
“My uncle offered to assist in our quest by hiring detectives. He suggested I keep Miss Prendergast searching for Lady Heloise in Paris while his investigators retrace her path and try to locate her. It will keep Miss Prendergast’s mind off the possibility that something terrible has happened to her cousin. And if something has, well, it might be best if she and I are not the ones to discover that.”
Professor Greer nodded.
“The longer we keep her here, the better the chances that my uncle’s endeavors will bear fruit.”
“I see.”
“There is one other thing.” Derek chose his words with care. “Miss Prendergast does not trust me. I have not lived a spotless life, but I assure you, while my misdeeds might have walked the edge of scandal, they did not include violations of the law.” At least not any serious, important laws.
“That is good to know.” The professor chuckled wryly, then sobered. “I know better than most the kinds of ill-conceived behavior young men are prone to. However, even in the most reckless youth, I have usually been able to ascertain his true nature. See what kind of a man he will eventually become, that sort of thing. I have long prided myself on my judgment of a man’s character.” He met Derek’s gaze directly. “I am confident you are a good man.”
The oddest flush of pride washed through Derek. “Thank you, sir.” He paused. “There is one other matter.”
“Go on.”
“While I wish to find Lady Heloise, I also wish to protect my great-aunt. Miss Prendergast is convinced the Lady Travelers Society is to blame for her cousin’s disappearance through ineptitude or incompetence or misrepresentation. I have discovered that before we left England, she spoke to police about the society.”
Professor Greer’s eyes widened in indignation. “I cannot believe anyone would think such a thing about any endeavor involving Lady Blodgett.”
“Fortunately, neither did the authorities. As long as Miss Prendergast is in Paris, she is not trying to convince police to badger my great-aunt.” He heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “Poor old thing.”
“Why, I can’t imagine such an indignity!” The professor practically sputtered with outrage. “I have known Lady Blodgett for longer than I care to admit, and I considered Sir Charles not only a fellow enthusiast in the pursuit of knowledge but a true friend. We cannot allow so much as a hint of illegality to fall on dear Lady Blodgett’s head.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Derek said with relief. “I should tell you, as well, I received a telegram from my uncle this morning. He thinks there might be good news soon.”
“I do hope so. For now, though.” He squared his shoulders. “We shall carry on.”
“I would appreciate if you not mention the telegram to Miss Prendergast. I would hate to get her hopes up.”
“I won’t say anything to Estelle, either. I’ve never known the woman to keep her mouth shut about anything. But you may rest assured Derek, unlike my wife, I am the very soul of discretion. I will not breathe a word of this.”
“A word of what?” India appeared in the doorway.
Bloody hell. How much had she heard?
“Nothing of significance.” Derek adopted a casual tone.
“No, indeed, my dear. Nothing of significance, nothing at all,” the professor said in an overly jovial manner. “Just the sort of thing one man says to another when waiting for ladies to make an appearance. Eh, Derek.” He nudged Derek with his elbow in a show of masculine solidarity. “You know how gentlemen are.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Do explain it to me.”
Derek forced a chuckle. “I’m afraid explaining the complexity of the male mind would take entirely more time than we wish to spend today.”
“Oh, I find that hard to believe,” she said, pulling on a glove. “Furthermore, I would debate your use of the word complexity.”
“And I must find my wife.” Professor Greer started for the door. “We are off to the Louvre today, and there is much to see.” He glanced at India long enough to see she was not looking at him, then winked broadly at Derek, one conspirator to another. Good Lord. Derek bit back a groan. Still, at least the professor would now be on his side.
“Well?” India demanded. “Are you going to tell me what the professor was not going to say a word about?”
“Absolutely not. I would never betray his confidence. Why, you would probably go running right to Estelle and the next thing you know...”
“What?”
He had been too busy evading her suspicions to pay any attention but now he couldn’t help but notice how...how frilly she looked.
“It’s impolite to stare, you know.”
“I am aware of that.” Still, he couldn’t help himself. She was distinctly frilly and ruffled and beribboned. Her dress was a deep shade of vivid purple, the bodice festooned with ruffled lace, the skirt split to reveal a black-and-white-striped underskirt. He struggled to restrain a laugh. “My apologies, India, but I can’t help myself. My gaze is as drawn to you as a moth to a flame.”
“Understandable but bad mannered nonetheless.” She paused, then grimaced. “It’s dreadful, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know that dreadful is the right word.” He swept his gaze over the purple concoction with its ruffles and stripes and tried not to cringe. “Frankly, I thought your stern gray dress was rather awful.”
She shot him a menacing look.
“Although the gray does suit you,” he murmured. “And it might well be fashionable somewhere.”
She ignored him. “Estelle was kind enough to offer me some of her things and had a maid do a few quick alterations. By the time I realized how truly terrible the dresses were, it was too late to refuse the offer. And I did not want to offend her.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
She glared at him.
He shrugged. “My apologies, but thus far, I have not noticed any overt concern on your part for the feelings of others. In the beginning, I attributed that to worry about your cousin, but the longer we are together—”
“Yes, yes, I’ve been made aware of that.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “And I am trying to cultivate a more pleasant disposition.” She held her arms out and gla
nced down at her dress. “This is apparently the price one pays for being nice.”
“I’m sure you’ll get your reward in heaven.”
“I would have to.”
“It fits well though.” He studied her with a critical eye. He had seen more than his share of well-dressed ladies in the latest styles. “Better than your gray I would say.”
She frowned. “Estelle said the same thing.”
“Perhaps that should give you a hint.”
“A hint?”
“All right, a smack across the face then.” He grinned. “Even if you are not pursuing marriage, I don’t know why anyone in their right mind—male or female—would not want to look their best.”
“I do look my best.” A defensive note sounded in her voice. “I am unfailingly neat and most presentable in my appearance.”
“Your appearance—” he knew this was a mistake and yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself “—fairly screams your sensible, rational, efficient nature.”
“I see nothing wrong with that,” she said in a lofty manner.
“It also says you are unyielding, unwilling to even consider compromise, always right, unfailingly stubborn—”
“You needn’t continue, Derek. You have made your point,” she said sharply and shook her head. “Women who fuss about their appearance tend to be silly, useless creatures, and I have no desire to be one of them. I do not wish to be measured by how I look, but rather for my abilities.”
“Surely you realize one does not necessarily preclude the other? It has been my observation that when people look their best they generally do their best. It’s a matter of confidence.”
“I have never lacked for confidence.”
“Disdaining what everyone else cares about is not confidence. I would say it’s more concealment. Or protection.”
“Nonsense.” A blush colored her face.
“So, just out of idle curiosity mind you...” He studied the ensemble. “Are the other things Estelle loaned you—”
“Equally distressing?” She nodded. “This was the best of the lot.” She sighed. “She is a very nice woman.”
“Paris is known for its fashion. You could certainly buy something here—”
“No, I think not,” she said quickly. “I would hate to offend Estelle by the implication that her taste is questionable.”
“My, you are making an effort.”
“I am trying.” Resolve rang in her voice.
He had to give her credit. For any woman—even one who claimed not to place much store in appearance—to dress in such an ill-suited ensemble simply to avoid offending someone else, did indeed point to a certain decency of character.
“Are we ready?”
His brow shot upward. “To appear in public?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“What will people say?” He grinned.
“I’ve never cared what people say.” She paused. “But I suspect they will wonder at your intelligence for escorting a woman who dresses in such a manner.”
“I shall try to endure it bravely.” He offered her his arm.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be that confident if I were you.” This time he was sure her smile was genuine, as was the teasing look in her eye. There was no doubt that this India Prendergast was not the same woman who had left England. Whether that was for good or ill remained to be seen. She took his arm, and they started toward the hall. “There’s a hat that matches the dress.”
* * *
INDIA WAS RIGHT. The hat was absurd. But it did go well with the dress. And as the day went on, India’s ensemble looked less and less ridiculous. Derek realized it was only in contrast to her usual severe style of dress that made it seem so frivolous. In truth, it softened her entire appearance. And possibly her demeanor, as well.
It could have been her determination to be more pleasant in nature or it might have been the magic of Paris at last spinning its spell, but there was a marked difference in the woman by his side today. As if—with the wearing of well-fitting, utterly feminine attire—a burden of responsibility and sensibility had eased from her shoulders. Certainly she was still concerned about her cousin and her missing trunk—as evidenced by the worry that creased her brow whenever the topics arose—but even that did not appear to distress her the way it had this morning.
She scarcely protested at all when he ordered wine with their midday meal, and her objection struck him as more cursory than legitimate. And she’d given in fairly easily to his suggestion that they take a respite from their tour of Grand Hotels to stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries. With the Arc de Triomphe visible at the far end and the garden’s water basins, riotous blooms and classical statues, there was no better place on a fine June day to truly feel the spirit of Paris.
Indeed, while their late start meant they only managed to check three more Grand Hotels off his list, it was obvious India had enjoyed their day, in spite of her clear determination not to. Her green eyes sparkled with interest, and there was color in her cheeks. Although he had seen a hint that first morning they’d talked in her room, this new India was unexpected. He would never have described her as beautiful, but today she was surprisingly appealing. The kind of woman one wanted to know better. Shocking what a change of heart and clothing could do for a woman.
Beyond that, she was interesting. She had firm views on literature, an excellent knowledge of antiquities—as he discovered when they’d passed by a store window with a display of ancient coins—and was better versed than he on the issues of the day. Unlike most women he knew, she did not hesitate to express her opinion when it might conflict with his own. India Prendergast was not the type of woman to hide her intelligence, and he found that both intriguing and delightful.
But the more he enjoyed her company, the more he wanted to be with her, the more his conscience nagged at him. He hadn’t been honest with her, and he couldn’t ignore a growing sense of unease. Guilt probably. Certainly all he was really hiding was his uncle’s involvement in searching for Lady Heloise. Of course, Derek had sent her luggage astray in an effort to lengthen their stay in Paris, which probably was unforgivable. As much as his conscience might bother him, he vowed never to let her know about that. As for the rest, Aunt Guinevere was family and as such was his responsibility. Until India’s cousin was found safely, his great-aunt’s future was at stake. Keeping India in Paris—and away from the authorities—was still an excellent idea. Besides, when one really considered everything, he was doing nothing more than extending a lady’s stay in one of the most exciting cities in the world. Pity the one woman in the world who wouldn’t appreciate that was the one he needed to keep here.
Even as he dressed for dinner, he couldn’t get his mind off this new India. Would she be wearing the purple dress again or did Estelle have something else in mind for her? He rather hoped so. He did like surprises. Good ones anyway.
Bloody hell. He paused in his efforts to knot his necktie and stared in the mirror. He was beginning to like her. Perhaps more than like her. This was certainly a surprise and he wasn’t sure if it was good or very, very bad.
India Prendergast was the exact opposite of everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. She was soundly practical, terribly sensible and horribly annoying. She knew everything, or at least she thought she did. She was stubborn and determined and overly concerned with propriety. And he had serious concerns over whether she ever indulged in anything he would consider fun. In very nearly every way he could think of, she wasn’t at all his type of female, not the type he was usually attracted to. The type he dreamed about. The type he fell in love with.
This was not, by any means, love. The very idea was ridiculous. He’d been in love several times, and whatever he was feeling now was nothing like that. No, love in his experience was swift and all-consuming and, for good or ill, brief.
Had he already lost his heart to India Prendergast? It was an interesting question. A question fraught with both excitement and terror. A question that, at the moment, he couldn’t answer. Not really. Even more interesting was whether it was even remotely possible that he could win her heart. Finding her cousin and keeping Aunt Guinevere and her friends out of prison paled in comparison to that.
But there was no question about one thing.
In more ways than he had imagined, India Prendergast was the biggest challenge of his life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
One should prepare oneself for travel by investigating in advance the places one intends to visit through lectures and books and the experiences of friends. It is always wise to know which places in a foreign locale are welcoming to visitors and which are hostile. Which are suitable and respectable for lady travelers, and which to avoid at all costs. Not availing oneself of such information in advance can be at best awkward, at worst scandalous, even dangerous.
—The Lady Travelers Society Guide
A SHARP RAPPING like the sound of a small, determined bird sounded at her door.
“Come—”
“India, I need your assistance.” Estelle burst into the room. “Or possibly your advice. Although I’m not certain I will listen to it. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but this is most concerning. There are consequences and repercussions, and, well, you understand.”
“Not in the least, but please, come in.” India waved her into the room. She’d been reading Mr. Bazalgette’s Agent and was nearly ready to put the book down and prepare for bed. It had been an exceptionally trying day.
The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen Page 15
