The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen

by Victoria Alexander

  Still, there was nothing better than lending assistance and giving advice. Why, those were two of the things she did best and among the reasons Martin valued her so highly. Resolving Estelle’s difficulty—whatever it might be—was just the sort of thing India needed to feel more like herself. Besides, Estelle had helped India when she needed it. India could do no less for her. “How may I help?”

  “I’m not sure, but you are so terribly competent and rational and sensible.” Estelle pressed her lips together in a determined manner. “Competent, rational and sensible are exactly what is needed at the moment.”

  “You have always struck me as extremely rational and sensible,” India said although Estelle seemed neither rational nor sensible at the moment.

  “That seems to be eluding me tonight.” The older woman blew an annoyed breath. “It’s about Frederick.”

  “Has something happened to him?” Concern squeezed India’s heart. “He seemed fine at dinner. Is he ill?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I almost wish it were.”

  “Then what on earth is the matter?”

  “Frederick and Lord Brookings have gone to...well, I don’t know how to put this delicately.”

  “Nor is it necessary,” India said firmly. “When one is as distraught as you are, the time for delicacy has passed.”

  “You’re right of course.” Estelle adopted a resolute expression. “They’ve gone to an...establishment. In Montmartre.”

  India stared. “I have no idea what that means.”

  “You really need to do at least a modicum of inquiry before you travel again, dear,” Estelle said in a chastising manner. “Montmartre is a district of Paris known for its less-than-respectable entertainment. Cabarets and dance halls and the like. Some of which feature women clad in most suggestive costumes or even none at all. The area is frequented by artists and writers and students and is considered quite Bohemian.”

  “I see.”

  “Frederick is unfailingly cognizant of proper behavior, but we are in Paris, after all.” Estelle turned on her heel and paced the room. “I assure you this is not at all like him. He does not usually frequent that sort of place.”

  “What sort of place?” India asked, although she was beginning to have her suspicions.

  “I suppose it’s to be expected. What man wouldn’t seize the opportunity to relive a few moments of his lost youth? I certainly wouldn’t mind reliving a few moments of my younger days. That’s how it all began, you know. All that talk at dinner with Frederick going on and on about his time here when he was a student.”

  “Yes, of course.” In truth, India had paid no attention whatsoever.

  “It’s not as if I don’t trust him,” Estelle continued. “I do. Implicitly. After all, if we don’t have trust between us after all these years, what do we have? Trust between a man and woman is everything, and we have trusted one another from the beginning. I’m not sure love is possible without trust.”

  “Probably not.” India had no idea what to say. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what the problem is. If you are not concerned about this outing with Lord Brookings—”

  “I’m concerned about who might see him and his lordship.” She paused. “Although I daresay, Lord Brookings won’t be. He does seem to be that sort of man, doesn’t he?”

  “If you mean the sort of man who doesn’t care about appearances, who is self-centered, irresponsible and entirely too arrogant? Then yes, that is an accurate description of his lordship.”

  “You don’t like him, do you?”

  “Oddly enough, I think I do like him.” India shook her head. “It’s hard not to like him.”

  “As do I—where was I?”

  “Your concern about someone seeing the professor at this establishment.”

  “Yes, well, it seems every time we turn around here, we are running into someone we know. Frederick has quite a respected reputation in certain circles, academic for the most part, and of course he’s a member of the Explorers Club and various other organizations.” She shook her head. “I had no idea Paris would be so crowded with subjects of Her Majesty although I suppose it is a world exhibition, isn’t it?”

  “Go on.”

  “Just this morning, we crossed paths at the Louvre with several ladies I know from London, and I joined them for refreshments while Frederick examined a display of medieval manuscripts. The ladies were bemoaning the fact that their husbands were determined to visit Montmartre. The group included Mrs. Marlow, the wife of George Marlow.” Her eyes narrowed. “If Frederick has any sort of rival, George Marlow would be it. He’s always been envious of Frederick’s accomplishments.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “If Marlow—if anyone from London—sees Frederick there...” She shuddered. “They will deny it, but men gossip far more than they would have us believe. Mark my words, in less than a day after they return home, everyone will know Frederick was spotted at highly unsuitable places. That beastly Marlow will make certain of it. You know how these things are—the gossip will grow out of all proportions. It will ruin him.”

  “But won’t these gentlemen be tarnished with the same brush?”

  “Frederick is held to a higher standard. This is a very delicate time. I’m not supposed to say anything—” she glanced from side to side as if to make sure they were alone and lowered her voice “—but there is talk that the queen is considering a knighthood for him. And you know how Her Majesty is about things like this.”

  “So I have heard.” India could well imagine the queen would not be at all inclined to knight a man who was seen in questionable surroundings, even far from home. Her Majesty was known to be intolerant of the merest hint of impropriety.

  “I had no idea he was going tonight. Why, he and Lord Brookings and Derek retired to the billiards room after dinner. I went to our rooms to read and dozed off. When I woke, Frederick had still not returned. That’s when I discovered he and his lordship had decided on a foray to Montmartre.”

  “It seems to me,” India said, “you are anticipating a problem that does not yet exist. It’s rather far-fetched to think that in a city the size of Paris two acquaintances from London will encounter one another.”

  “Men, my dear India, are men.” Estelle cast her a condescending look. “They are all prone to adventures of a disconcerting nature. I would not be the least bit surprised if Marlow wasn’t in Montmartre at this very moment.”

  “Still—”

  “I will not allow Frederick’s chances at a knighthood to be shattered because of one ill-advised venture.” Estelle folded her arms over her chest. “Therefore, I intend to fetch him myself and bring him back.”

  India stared. “Surely you’re not serious.”

  “I have never been more serious.” A determined look shone in Estelle’s eyes. “I have supported that man through nearly forty years of marriage, and I will not fail him now. A knighthood would be his crowning achievement, and he deserves it. And I deserve to be Lady Greer.”

  India shook her head. “This does not strike me as a good idea.”

  “I didn’t say it was a good idea, but it is the only one I have.” She squared her shoulders. “And I would very much appreciate it if you would accompany me.”

  “Because two Englishwomen on such an excursion would be less improper than just one?”

  “Because your French is much better than mine.” Estelle grimaced. “And I prefer not to go by myself. If you have a better idea...”

  “I wish I did.” India thought for a moment. Estelle’s plan was unwise and ill conceived. Her reasoning was based on nothing more than emotion and distress. India had not known the older woman long but she had no doubt she would indeed try to find her wandering husband alone if India refused to accompany her. “Although I believe I know who migh
t.” She started toward the hall. “Come along.”

  “Where?” Estelle hurried behind her.

  “If there’s anyone among us who would know best how to evade scandal, it would be he who has experienced it firsthand.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Unless Derek accompanied your husband and his lordship—”

  “He didn’t. At least according to the butler, but I believe Derek has already retired for the night.”

  “Well then, we shall have to beard the lion in his den.” India headed toward Derek’s rooms.

  “Are you sure?” Doubt sounded in Estelle’s voice. “I’ve never visited a man in his bedroom before. I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”

  India glanced at her. “Now you are considering what is and is not appropriate?”

  Estelle shrugged.

  “Regardless...” India stopped before Derek’s door. Estelle had come to India for help, and help she would have. India gathered her courage and knocked sharply on his door. “A knighthood is at stake.”

  A moment later the door opened. Derek, clad in a deep red dressing gown, stared at her. “What?” His gaze skipped to Estelle, then back to India. “Ladies,” he said cautiously. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  “We have need of your assistance,” India said firmly, ignoring how rakishly charming he looked.

  “Do you?” He stepped back and waved them into his room. “Come in then, by all means.”

  India stepped into his room, Estelle right on her heels. India had never been in a gentleman’s bedroom before and never imagined she would be. Especially not with said gentleman dressed in attire unsuitable to receive female callers.

  “Oh, this is nice.” Estelle glanced around the room approvingly.

  It was indeed nice. Twice as big as India’s, it was a suite of rooms really. A sitting area complete with a sofa and desk adjoined a bedchamber via an open archway. Whereas the furniture in her room was in shades of pastels and white and decidedly feminine in nature, his had a distinctly masculine flair with carved, dark woods. Her gaze was irresistibly drawn to the adjoining room, where an enormous armoire and an equally enormous mahogany bed dominated the space. Heat washed up her face, and she jerked her gaze back to Derek. Which was no better at all.

  His dressing gown was the color of a rich claret, deep and decidedly sinful and worn over trousers. A fringed sash cinched his waist and a white shirt was open at his throat. The man was the epitome of, well, seduction. Only the fact that his hair was slightly ruffled, as if he’d run his hands through it, giving him an appealing boyish quality, saved him from looking positively dangerous. She glanced at Estelle, who stared at Derek in open admiration.

  His gaze shifted between the women. “I assume you’re here for a reason.”

  “Yes, of course.” India cleared her throat. “The professor needs your help.”

  “Oh?”

  “His lordship has taken the professor to a questionable establishment in Montmartre.”

  Estelle continued to stare. India groaned to herself. You would think the woman had never seen a dashing scoundrel in a dressing gown before. She probably hadn’t, but she was married, after all. Admittedly, while the professor and Derek were both men, that’s where the similarity ended. India nudged the other woman.

  “Oh.” Estelle started. “Yes, of course.” She drew a deep breath. “I believe they intended to make an evening of it.”

  “I know,” Derek said. “They discussed stopping in at the Folies Bergère when we were having port and cigars in the billiards room.”

  “I’m rather impressed that you thought better than to accompany them to such a place,” India said.

  “I didn’t think better of it.” He shrugged. “I simply had no desire to go.”

  “Regardless, that’s to our benefit.” She nodded at Estelle.

  Again, he looked from one woman to the other. “I’m not sure what you want from me.”

  “We want you to find the professor before acquaintances of his from London spot him in surroundings that can only be described as immoral, which would surely lead to his disgrace and ultimate ruin,” India said.

  “Disgrace and ultimate ruin?” He chuckled. “Aren’t you being a bit dramatic? It’s not uncommon for tourists to visit the sights of Montmartre.”

  India traded glances with Estelle.

  “It really is a matter of disgrace and ultimate ruin.” Estelle chewed on her lower lip. “I’m not at liberty to tell you why, but please believe me this is crucial for Frederick’s future.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “Very well,” he said at last. “It will take me a few minutes to change. Then I will be on my way.”

  “Excellent.” Estelle nodded. “I shall meet you in the foyer.”

  India braced herself. “We shall meet you in the foyer.”

  Estelle smiled at her gratefully.

  “I have no intention of bringing the two of you along with me.” Derek stared in disbelief. “This is not the sort of area for well-bred English ladies. It’s frequented by men and...working women for the most part.”

  “The fate of my husband is at stake.” Estelle raised her chin in a determined manner. “I will not be left behind.”

  “And Estelle is my...my friend.” India doubted she’d ever said that before about anyone other than Heloise or Martin. “She came to me for help, and I will not abandon her now.” India crossed her arms over her chest. “Are we going or not?”

  “Very well.” His jaw tightened. “But you’ll limit your observations to what you can see on the street. And you will both stay in the carriage.”

  “We can agree to that.” India glanced at Estelle, who nodded. “Five minutes then,” India said and ushered Estelle out the door.

  Before she could follow, Derek stepped close and lowered his voice. “I can do this myself, you know.”

  “No doubt.” India shrugged. “But Estelle is determined, and I cannot allow her to go without me.”

  “Because you don’t trust me.” His eyes narrowed. “I assure you I am more than capable of finding the professor and returning him safely to his wife.”

  “I am well aware of that, and in this particular case, I do trust you.” Even as she said the words, she knew they were true. “But Estelle asked for my help. Therefore, I consider this quest my responsibility, and I intend to see it through to the end.”

  “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard but I know better than to try to argue with you.” He heaved a frustrated sigh and stepped back. “Now, unless you intend to assist me in changing my clothing—”

  “That I’m certain you can manage without me.” She nodded and took her leave.

  A quarter of an hour later they were in one of his lordship’s closed carriages headed for Montmartre. It did seem to take forever or perhaps it was simply that the silence in the carriage was deafening. Derek was not at all happy with them and apparently thought it better not to say anything at all than to continue to express his annoyance. Fine. India would rather listen to her own thoughts than listen to him. Especially as he was probably right.

  She should have convinced Estelle to let Derek come alone. This was not the sort of thing India did. Ever. She was at all times cognizant of the need for propriety. She was not prone to, nor had she ever had, any secret desire for adventure. Nonetheless, she had the oddest sense of anticipation. It was ridiculous and yet there it was.

  At last they pulled up on the opposite side of the street from a large, decorative building plastered with playbills on the ground floor. On the upper story, multiple window panes were divided by ornate columns. The edifice was topped by wrought stonework running the width of the building, with a curved and graceful design and a sort of crown in the center. Immediately beneath the crown were the words Folies Bergère. The place f
airly reeked of immorality and indiscretion and decadence. Although immorality, indiscretion and decadence apparently had a great deal of appeal. Even at this late hour, the streets were crowded with vehicles and pedestrians.

  “This is where they said they were going.” Derek nodded at the building. “It’s a sort of cabaret or music hall.”

  “It’s very busy, isn’t it?” Estelle murmured.

  “It’s extremely popular.” He glanced at India. “What do you think?”

  “Sin is usually popular,” she said with a casual shrug. “We will indeed remain in the carriage. I believe you were right.”

  He raised a brow. “Again?”

  “Again. And you needn’t be smug about it.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, but I enjoy being smug.” He grabbed the door handle. “I would wager the doorman knows Val by sight. It won’t take me long to see if he’s here or not.” He opened the door and smiled wickedly at India. “You should probably give me a token for luck.”

  Estelle nodded. “Like a knight of old going off to do battle.”

  “Don’t be absurd. He’s venturing into a veritable den of iniquity not a duel to the death. And I daresay it’s not the first time.”

  “Still, a token for luck. A glove perhaps or—” his smile widened “—a kiss.”

  India arched a brow in disdain, but the oddest thing happened to the pit of her stomach.

  Estelle clucked her tongue. “Goodness, Derek, you are naughty.”

  He grinned in an unrepentant manner. “I know.” He nodded at India. “She likes it.”

  India gasped. “I most certainly do not!”

  He laughed, stepped out of the carriage and turned back to India. “Are you certain about that kiss?”

  “Quite certain,” she said firmly, ignoring a vague sense of regret. Still, a kiss? She would never so much as consider such a thing. “Besides, a kiss here in this part of Paris, at this time of night, well, I can only imagine what an observer might think. People would jump to all sorts of conclusions, and Estelle and I wouldn’t be the least bit safe. Even in the carriage.”