The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen

by Victoria Alexander

  “No.” She wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase this. “I was hoping you would answer a few questions for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “About Mr. Saunders.”

  “Oh.” His brows drew together. “It’s like that, is it?”

  “It’s like what?”

  “Usually, when a woman wants to talk about another man it’s because she harbors some feelings for him.”

  “I can assure you I harbor no feelings for Mr. Saunders other than perhaps friendship,” she said quickly, ignoring the heat that washed up her face. Why his lordship’s charge would make her blush was beyond her. It probably had to do with that kiss nonsense. Still, Derek had indeed offered friendship even if she hadn’t accepted.

  “No.” He studied her curiously. “Of course not.”

  “It is for no other reason than the pursuit of that friendship that I thought it would be beneficial if I knew more about him.”

  “I daresay everything there is to know about my brother is public knowledge.” He chuckled. “Derek has no real secrets, at least not as far as I am aware.”

  “Then you will be revealing no confidences.” She perched on a nearby chair and smiled pleasantly. “Is he a good man?” It wasn’t the question she had intended to ask, but it did seem important.

  “Yes,” Lord Brookings said without hesitation. “I have known Derek for most of his life. His mother—and the only mother I have ever known—married my father when I was nine and Derek was eight. We grew up together. I consider him my brother in everything but blood. Admittedly, he has engaged in any number of activities that one might consider reckless and even outrageous, but then so have I.” He flashed her an unapologetic grin. “However, I have never seen him hurt anyone nor have I ever seen him be deliberately unkind.”

  She nodded. “That’s very...interesting.”

  “I should add, last night, when he set forth to rescue Professor Greer, he did so at his own peril.”

  “Did he?” She forced a light tone, but unease settled in her stomach.

  “Derek’s uncle has told him in no uncertain terms that he will not tolerate any further hint of scandal. So, if the professor’s reputation was at risk, so, too, was my brother’s.”

  “I see.” That certainly put a different light on the evening and perhaps explained why Derek hadn’t accompanied his lordship and the professor in the first place.

  “I would put my life in his hands without a second thought. Does that answer your question?”

  “Yes, I suppose it does.”

  If his lordship was lying he was quite good at it. No, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he believed what he’d said. The oddest sense of relief washed through her. The more time she spent with Derek, the more he wasn’t at all as she had expected.

  Why, the man had actually eased her discomfort about her appearance in Estelle’s borrowed clothing, pointing out that, while this was not how she usually dressed, she did not look as absurd as she had first feared. Indeed, he claimed she looked rather fetching. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but no one stopped and stared in horror at her. He had also drawn her attention several times to other ladies garbed in apparel even more fussy than hers. It was quite kind of him really, and she wondered if he might not be a rather nice sort beneath his dashing good looks and wicked smiles. He had made a list, after all. One had to give him credit for that. He’d also insisted on showing her some of the sights of Paris between Grand Hotel stops. That, too, was surprisingly thoughtful in spite of her lack of interest. Now, knowing the risk he’d taken for the professor, her opinion of him notched upward.

  Which made it all the more unpleasant to search for proof as to his wrongdoing.

  “I was curious, there are any number of rumors about his financial circumstances, but I distrust gossip. What are the state of Mr. Saunders finances?”

  “Now that is the question of a woman who is looking for a husband and wants assurances about the gentleman she has set her cap for.”

  “I assure you,” she said firmly, “I am not looking for a husband—”

  “Not in that dress.”

  “And even if I was, Mr. Saunders would not be of interest to me.” It did seem important to let his stepbrother know she had no intentions toward Derek. Set her cap indeed.

  “I must say I find that difficult to believe. Most women think Derek irresistible.”

  “I imagine there have been a great number of women,” she said in an offhand manner.

  “A great number?” He chuckled. “I’m not sure what a great number is. Dozens? Hundreds?”

  “Many,” she said sharply.

  “My, my, Miss Prendergast.” His brow rose. “That sounds a bit like jealousy.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “I just told you I have no intentions toward Derek other than friendship.”

  “Of course not. But other women consider Derek a brilliant catch. His prospects are excellent, he is the heir to an impressive title and even I can admit he is not unattractive. Not quite as handsome and dashing as his brother—”

  She snorted.

  “But acceptable.” He considered her thoughtfully. “Why aren’t you looking for a husband?”

  “Oh for goodness’ sake.” Why was everyone so disturbed by her lack of interest in marriage? It was right on the tip of her tongue to tell him it was none of his concern, but why not answer the man? She had nothing to hide, and she did want answers from him, after all. “For one thing, my lord—”

  “Val. Or Percy.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. And, yes, I know I agreed to call you Miss Prendergast, but it makes me feel like an antiquity to have someone no more than a few years younger than I refer to me by my title. Especially when discussing matters as personal as my stepbrother’s life and your opposition to marriage.”

  “I never said I was opposed to marriage, Percy.”

  “Val would have been better,” he said under his breath.

  “I simply came to the realization years ago that some of us are not intended for marriage.”

  “I’ve heard that from a man but never from a woman.”

  “Well, now you have.”

  He stared at her as if she had suddenly grown two heads. “Why?”

  “I was starting to explain but you interrupted me, Percy.”

  He winced.

  “I shall be thirty on my next birthday, a confirmed spinster by anyone’s definition. I have neither the wealth nor the heritage nor the appearance that most men look for in a wife. Those looking to improve their position in life will not achieve that by marriage with me. Is that satisfactory?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not in the least. For one thing, any man who marries a woman for those attributes only deserves what he gets.”

  “Forgive me for pointing this out, but that’s rather easy for you to say. You don’t need to marry for money or position. Most people are not that fortunate.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I firmly intend to marry for nothing less than undying love.”

  “Good God, you’re a romantic!” And far less jaded than she had assumed.

  “Shocking, isn’t it?”

  “I scarcely know what to say.”

  “My brother considers himself a romantic, as well.” He nodded. “You should know that, India.”

  “Miss Prendergast, and it makes no difference to me as I am not interested in him as anything other than a friend. A good friend, perhaps, but a friend nonetheless. And if I were—” She knew she should hold her tongue but couldn’t seem to help herself. It had occurred to her late in the night, no doubt brought about by the kissing, or lack of kissing, incident, and she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. “Derek and I are from entirely different worlds and would never
suit. He is to be an earl, and I work for my living. Only in silly stories would such a match be possible.”

  “I like silly stories. I always have.”

  “How wonderful for you, but this is not a story.” This was becoming more and more annoying. She was not here to talk about her life nor did she wish to discuss why a match with Derek was impossible. Even if she was interested in such a thing which she certainly wasn’t. “Furthermore, my dowry is respectable but not what someone like Derek would expect.”

  “Derek is in no need of a generous dowry. He’ll inherit a substantial fortune along with his title.”

  “His wife will be a countess. A countess needs to at least be the daughter of someone titled.”

  “What a snob you are, India.”

  “Miss Prendergast, and I am most certainly not a snob. I simply know how the world works in matters like this.”

  “A snob.” He shook his head in a mournful manner. “A dreadful, nose-in-the-air snob.”

  “This entire conversation is absurd,” she snapped. “I have no desire to marry Derek, and he has no particular interest in me.”

  His lordship cast her a skeptical look. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” She waved off the ridiculous question. He hadn’t kissed her, after all, and he’d had every opportunity to do so. A man who said he wanted to kiss you and then made no effort to do so had obviously changed his mind. Or had come to his senses. “For one thing, as I said, we are not suited for each other, and if you were to ask him, I’m certain he would agree. For another, men like him—and you for that matter—”

  “Men like me?” He grinned. “Do go on, India.”

  “Miss Prendergast!” This was perhaps the silliest conversation she’d ever been engaged in, but that was no reason to lose her temper. Again. The control of her emotions she’d always prided herself on had eroded since the moment she’d left London. Or perhaps the moment she’d met Derek. She drew a calming breath. “As I was saying, men like you and Mr. Saunders—men of prominence because of wealth or family or expectations—usually give some sort of indication as to their interest. Mr. Saunders has done absolutely nothing to so much as imply he has any regard for me that goes beyond the bounds of friendship.”

  “And you’ve had a great deal of experience with men like him?” he asked in a mild manner.

  “Not a great deal, no.” And by great deal she meant none. But everyone knew men like Derek did not marry women like her. No matter how much of a romantic they considered themselves. “This is ridiculous.”

  “You’re right, and I do apologize.” Although he didn’t sound the least bit remorseful. “It was nothing more than an exercise in possibilities. And whether you wish to believe it or not, there are few things I like better than a rousing debate with a lovely, intelligent woman. I know I enjoyed it.”

  “Well, I did not,” she said sharply. “And I do wish you would stop trying to charm your way past my—”

  “Reluctance to so much as hint that you might find life even a tiny bit amusing?”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” She paused. “But perhaps. And you needn’t keep calling me lovely. I am well aware of how very ordinary I am.”

  “My dear Miss Prendergast.” Genuine surprise shone in his eyes. “The first time I met you, you were sitting upright in a bed, your face flushed, your hair tousled. Those captivating green eyes sparkled with indignation. You were wearing something delightfully naughty—and vaguely familiar—with the covers clutched up to your neck and a plate of croissants in your lap. You were very nearly irresistible.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “Are you mad?”

  “I daresay, I have rarely been more sane.”

  “Well...” She had no idea how to respond. She’d never thought of herself as anything other than distinctly average. “Thank you?”

  “Of course, after that morning you insisted on wearing that dreadful gray thing day after day.” He shivered. “You may not realize it, but while Mrs. Greer’s clothes tend to be a bit brighter and somewhat fussier than is my personal preference in lady’s garments, they do show off your estimable assets.”

  She stared. “I have assets?”

  He frowned in disbelief. “Has no one ever said this to you before?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “Perhaps when one is appreciated for her efficiency and intelligence, no one is concerned about the rest of her.” He shrugged. “Pity.”

  “Assets,” she murmured. She rather liked that.

  “And you’re doing something—” he gestured at her head “—different with your hair. It’s not as...clenched.”

  She patted her hair and resisted the urge to tuck away the tendrils of curls now drifting around her face. “Suzette has been doing my hair.”

  “I should have known.” He studied her with a critical eye. “It’s quite flattering. You should continue to wear it that way.”

  “Perhaps,” she said weakly. Lord Brookings was an outrageous flirt, but he did seem sincere. She’d stopped being concerned about her appearance years ago. In hindsight, perhaps that was a mistake.

  The bong of the dinner bell reverberated through the house. “And there’s the call for dinner.” He offered his arm.

  She hadn’t realized it was so late. She sighed and took his arm. “You haven’t fully answered my questions.”

  “I know. Wicked of me, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was. My only concern is to lend Mr. Saunders my assistance.” Derek Saunders might well be a scoundrel, but he might be worth redeeming.

  “In what?”

  “In becoming the man I believe he wants to be.” And hadn’t Derek said so himself? Hadn’t he said his desire in life was not to disappoint?

  “In becoming his father.”

  “His father?” India released his arm and took a step back. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I never met the man, of course, but from what I’ve heard, Derek’s father was one of those people who was respected by everyone.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone not liking Derek,” she said firmly. “He’s quite charming and...personable.”

  “Henry, Derek’s father, was brilliant and competent and responsible. He and his brother, the earl, were twins, although not identical, and apparently quite fond of each other. Not always the case between the heir and the spare, you know. It’s my understanding Henry worked closely with his brother in all matters pertaining to the family’s interests. Furthermore, there was never a hint of anything disreputable associated with Henry Saunders. Unless, of course—and this is hearsay mind you—one considers the uproar over his marriage to Mother.”

  “His family didn’t approve?”

  “As I said, this is just something I’ve picked up through the years. Nothing more than gossip really.”

  “Go on.”

  “Why, Miss Prendergast,” he chastised. “I had no idea you were so fond of gossip.”

  “Something that happened thirty some years ago is no longer gossip but more in the realm of history,” she said in a lofty manner.

  “Interesting way you have of bending the rules.” He chuckled. “I shall have to remember that.”

  “Now, if you would be so kind as to finish the story.”

  “Apparently, Mother’s family was not as prosperous as it had once been. Her father was a viscount who’d had some disastrous setbacks due to—oh, let’s call it bad investments, shall we?”

  “Investments?”

  “Of a speculative nature. Gambling, Miss Prendergast.”

  “Oh.” She stared. “I see.”

  “Still, the family name was respectable enough.” He paused. “Until of course, Henry and Mother ran off together.”

  Surprise widened her ey
es. “Oh?”

  “Which certainly wouldn’t have caused the kind of gossip that lingers through the years except, of course, for the tiny problem that Henry was supposed to marry her older sister.” He lowered his voice in a confidential manner. “The way I heard the story, someone left someone at the altar.”

  “Who?” She knew she shouldn’t be quite this eager to hear the sordid details, but it was a very long time ago. Which did indeed make it less like gossip and more like history.

  “I have no idea.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, the details are murky at that point.”

  “That is unfortunate,” she murmured.

  “Miss Prendergast! You astound me. I never imagined you to be interested in such rubbish.” Laughter sparked in his eyes. “Tsk, tsk.”

  “I’m not interested in gossip,” she said. “I am simply interested in helping Mr. Saunders.”

  “Of course you are.”

  “As his friend.”

  “Perhaps you are, at that.” His lordship studied her for a long moment. “You asked about his finances.” He offered his arm again, and she placed her hand on the inside of his elbow. “Derek has always received a substantial allowance from his uncle. And has always gone through it with rapt abandon so he is continually on the verge of having nothing at all.” Once again they started toward the door. “In recent months, however, he’s seemed quite solvent. Frugal living, no doubt.”

  “No doubt.” Her heart sank. Derek’s solvency coincided with the success of the Lady Travelers Society. Which did seem proof of his misdeeds. Still, even a good man could be led astray. The strangest idea was nibbling at the back of her mind.

  “I hold Derek in great affection, Miss Prendergast. You should know that.” There was the vaguest hint of a threat in his words.

  “That is good to know.”

  “You should also know—” he grinned “—I am far wiser than I would appear.”

  “One can only hope, Percy, one can only hope.”