“No, she thinks I’m manipulating them.”
“Goodness.” Mother shuddered. “Don’t ever let Guinevere know that.” She hesitated. “You aren’t, are you?”
“Yes, Mother.” He rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “I have been doing nothing but work for Uncle Edward for months now. However, as I am an acknowledged mastermind, I confess, in my free time, I have maneuvered three elderly women into serving as a facade for a fraudulent organization designed to steal the savings of other unsuspecting women while sending them unprepared into the adventure—or rather—the ordeal of travel.”
“It sounds rather bad when you say it that way,” Mother murmured.
“It is bad.” He sighed. “I’m going to seek out additional legal advice when we return to London. I am hoping this can be resolved without anyone the wiser. I should like to avoid everyone ending up in prison.”
“We shall hope for the best.” She finished her champagne and signaled a server to take her glass. “On the bright side, India must think you’re fairly clever.”
“And she has taken it upon herself to reform me.”
“She’s turned you into a project?”
“So it would appear.”
“That’s a very good sign.” Mother cast him a smug smile. “No woman wastes time improving a man if she doesn’t wish to keep him. Even if she hasn’t yet realized it.”
He grinned. “Thank you, Mother.”
“For pointing out the obvious?”
“For easing my nerves.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t remember ever feeling this anxious over—”
“What time is it, dear?”
Derek pulled his watch out of his waistcoat pocket.
“Never mind, it’s of no consequence. It is time for the dancing to begin.” She put her hand on his arm and nodded toward the stairs. “And India is here.”
The professor paused at the top of the stairs and surveyed the ballroom. Estelle stood on one side, India on the other.
Derek’s breath caught. He was wrong.
She was beautiful.
More than beautiful, really. She was a vision, straight out of every dream he’d ever had. She wore some sort of pale green confection, a shade that reminded him of the translucent color of the curl of a wave of seawater. The gown floated around her as if in defiance of the laws of gravity and yet managed to caress her in all the appropriate places. Softly draped sleeves revealed tantalizing bare shoulders. The bodice dipped a bit low, too low, temptingly low. He’d always appreciated a revealing bodice on a woman’s gown but not this gown on this woman. He couldn’t recall ever having to fight the urge to throw his coat over a woman before. Her hair had been allowed further escape tonight, gently piled on top of her head, soft curls tumbling down one shoulder. A cascade of tiny pink roses drifted down her hair and across her bodice and scattered over her skirt.
“Thank you, Mother.” He couldn’t pull his gaze away from India. “Although, it really doesn’t matter to me.”
“I know that, dear. I didn’t do it for you. Now—” she nodded toward India “—you should join her before someone else does.”
He hurried across the room toward her, trying not to push people out of his way. The first dance was about to begin, and he had already claimed it. He reached the stairs just as she stepped onto the bottom step.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do next. In a perfect world, a world that existed only in dreams, he would sweep her into his arms, press his lips to hers and never let her go. In this world, however, a display of affection while surrounded by people eager for the next bit of gossip would only lead to rumor and gossip about Derek Saunders’s latest indiscretion. He would prefer to avoid that.
He held out his hand. “You are late.”
She placed her hand in his. Amusement flickered in her green eyes. “I am precisely on time, according to your mother.”
“My mother wasn’t counting the minutes until your arrival.” He led her out onto the floor.
“And you were?”
“If I had had to wait another second for you, India—” his gaze met hers “—I would have gone to your room and fetched you myself.”
“Would you?”
“I would, although it would have been a grave mistake.”
“Oh?” A distinct challenge shone in her eyes.
He bent close and spoke softly into her ear. “We would never have left your room.”
She sucked in the tiniest breath, then exhaled softly. “That is good to know.”
Derek almost tripped over his own feet. What in the name of all that was holy did she mean by that? It was one thing for him to make flirtatious, slightly suggestive comments but quite another for her to do so. “Is it?”
She laughed. Which was no answer at all.
He turned to face her. “Are you flirting with me, Miss Prendergast?”
“You are the second man in as many days to accuse me of flirting.”
“Not Sir Martin, I hope.”
“No,” she said firmly.
“Good.”
The music began and she stepped into his arms. “Jealous, Mr. Saunders?”
“Yes.”
“How delightful.” She smiled, and he noticed the faintest dimple at the corner of her mouth. Charming and fairly begging to be kissed. How had he not noticed that before?
They moved together to the soft strains of an easy waltz, and he noted, as he had when they’d first danced together, how very right she felt in his arms. How smoothly they moved to the music as if they and the melody were one. As if they were meant to dance together. As if she was the perfect partner. His perfect partner. The thought was both exciting and terrifying. It struck him that all the other times he’d been in love, or fancied himself in love, there had never been so much as a moment of apprehension. Now, he realized he hadn’t feared losing any of them. The idea of losing India knotted something inside him.
“Dare I ask what you are thinking? You seem very far away.” She studied him curiously. “Your mind is certainly not on the here and now.”
“On the contrary, India, my mind is entirely on the here and now. My thoughts are entirely on you.” He maneuvered them around a couple that was moving far too slowly for even the sedate waltz.
“Now who is being flirtatious?”
“Not at all. Flirtation is a game of sorts, a teasing duel of words, and looks, and gestures, which may or may not lead to something more. Perhaps even something important. Flirtation can be nothing more than a distraction meant only for the moment.” He gazed deep into her green eyes. “Or it can be a promise that will last forever.”
“And is your flirtation a distraction or a promise?” Her tone was light but something—something wonderful—shone in her eyes. “Something for the moment or forever?”
“That may well be too important a question to answer in the middle of a crowd of relative strangers.” He smiled and held his breath. “But I am willing to answer it if you are.”
Her brow arched. “Turning the tables—are we, Mr. Saunders?”
“Whenever possible, Miss Prendergast.” He chuckled and steered her through a perfectly executed turn. She followed his lead without so much as an instant of hesitation, as if she trusted him without question. “I must confess. When I envisioned looking up at the stairs and seeing you tonight I somehow imagined you wearing your gray dress, with your umbrella in one hand and your bag over your arm.”
“I had considered it,” she said thoughtfully. “But your mother went to great effort on my behalf, and she would be inconsolable if I were to appear in my gray dress. Indeed—” she grinned in a wicked manner “—I suspect she would be devastated should she ever even see my gray dress.”
He laughed. “It is not up to her standards of fashion. But, I must confe
ss, I rather miss it.”
“You do not.” She scoffed. “Although there is much to be said about a sensible, serviceable gray wool dress.”
“There is indeed and as a gentleman, I shall refrain from saying it.”
“How very thoughtful of you. And as you have confessed, I shall do so, as well.” She hesitated. “I have never in my entire life had a dress this lovely and this perfect. The color alone, sea foam—”
“I thought it was green.”
“Sea foam, Derek,” she said firmly. “I never imagined wearing such a color. It’s so...carefree. Your mother says it enhances the green in my eyes.” She fluttered her lashes at him. “What you do think?”
“I think now you are fishing for compliments.”
“I would never...” She paused. “Why yes, I believe I am. It’s entirely unlike me but then I have never been to a ball or worn a—”
“Your eyes, India—” he pulled her a bit tighter against him “—rival the finest emeralds, whether you are wearing sea foam or gray wool. Your hair has the loveliest hints of burnished gold when it’s allowed a bit of freedom and makes a man long to run his fingers through it. Your mouth is perfection itself and when you smile the most intoxicating dimple appears at the corner. Your lips beg to be kissed. And tonight, you are indescribable.”
“Oh.” A bemused expression crossed her face. “I was simply hoping for nice.”
“Nice is not sufficient.”
“I shall have to wear this dress all the time.”
“It’s not the dress, although it is lovely.”
“Come now, Derek, I have always been the very definition of ordinary.”
“In your eyes perhaps. Although I would imagine Sir Martin disagrees,” he added in an offhand manner.
“Apparently.” She sighed, and a troubled frown creased her forehead. “I shall have to find a new assistant for him and a new position for myself when we have found Heloise and return to London.”
“You won’t continue your employment with him?”
“I don’t see how I possibly can after he...well, his actions, coming here and...” She shook her head. “It is both surprising and disappointing.”
“Ah well, life is often unpredictable.” Derek resisted the urge to grin with triumph.
“You’re quite pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”
“I have nothing to do with this.” He adopted an innocent expression. “But, yes, I am.”
The music faded and he led her to a graceful stop, releasing her with reluctance.
“Don’t be smug—it’s unbecoming.”
“And yet you think it’s charming.”
“Perhaps a little.” She bit her bottom lip—her delectable, luscious lip—to hold back a smile and his stomach tightened. “I believe my next dance is with the professor. Or perhaps it’s promised to Martin. I should check my card.”
She took his arm, and they walked off the floor.
“Try not to enjoy it.”
She laughed, and the sound wrapped around his soul. He vowed to himself never to take her laugh for granted and do whatever was needed to make certain he heard it every day, for the rest of his life.
“I have never danced with Martin so I can’t say if I will enjoy it or not.” Amusement twinkled in her eyes.
“I shall hope for the best. You do remember I claimed the last dance as well as the first?”
“I do.”
“Although—” he took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips “—if I had my way, you would dance every dance with me.” He met her gaze directly. “Always.”
“You’re trying to be charming again, aren’t you?”
“Is it working?”
“Goodness, Derek, if I told you that it would only go to your head.” She stared at him for a long moment. “But, if you must know...yes.” A slow smile curved her lips. “Always.”
* * *
INDIA DIDN’T HAVE a dance with Martin until midway through the second set. She had expected to dance with Lords Brookings and Westvale, as well as Professor Greer, but she did not anticipate dance after dance with strangers.
The first dance after Derek’s, with a member of the House of Commons, was awkward. He was no more accomplished at idle chat than she. But with every new partner, she grew more confident—in both conversation and the dance. And every new partner was completely different from the last. Among those she had danced with thus far was a Scottish lord who had far more exuberance on the dance floor than skill, a well-known architect who was acquainted with Professor Greer and an American businessman who went on and on about the charms of Paris. A few weeks ago, India would have argued with him. Now...everything had changed.
Martin at last joined her for their dance, a hurt look on his face. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you have been avoiding me. We have only one dance together. My dance card was given to me already filled.”
“And wasn’t that wonderfully convenient for both of us?” she said brightly. India had been surprised at finding her own dance card filled, but she was well aware Lady Westvale intended to fill Martin’s with an eye toward partnering him with ladies who might share his intellectual interests.
“I have something to tell you,” he said as he swept her into the dance. “But it seems I can’t talk and dance at the same time.” He was having a difficult time matching his steps to the music.
“We could just dance.”
“This is important.” He met her gaze firmly. “Very important.”
At the next opportunity, he steered her through the columns to the gallery.
“Well?” She tried and failed to hide her impatience. “What is so important?”
“I heard Mr. Saunders confess to everything.” A note of triumph sounded in his voice.
She narrowed her eyes. “Did you?”
“I did indeed.” He smirked. She’d never seen him quite so self-satisfied before. It was most annoying.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Exactly what is everything?”
“Everything.” Martin gestured wildly. “You know—all of it!”
“Exactly, if you please.”
“Very well.” He huffed. “I heard him admit that he was the mastermind behind the Lady Travelers Society and that he was profiting from the desires of unsuspecting women who wish to travel. Or words to that effect.”
“I see.” Even though Derek would set things right, he should know better than to open his mouth about his misdeeds. What was the man thinking? “Who did he say this to?”
“His mother!” Victory rang in Martin’s voice. “One does not lie to one’s mother.”
“And he used the word mastermind?” While Derek had seemed pleased at being called a mastermind, India doubted he would include such a title in any confession.
“He did indeed. And he said he wishes to avoid prison.”
“Anyone with any sense wishes to avoid prison.”
“Don’t you see, India? I heard him confess.” Martin fairly quivered with righteous excitement. “I can testify to that in court. We can have him arrested and tried and thrown in prison!”
“Goodness, Martin, I don’t want him arrested.”
Martin threw his hands up in frustration. “Because you love him. Really, India, you need to set that aside and consider the...the greater good, if you will.”
“My feelings for him are beside the point. I have always been an excellent judge of character, and I now believe Mr. Saunders is a decent man who has simply wandered off the path of moral behavior. I have absolutely no doubt he will set everything to rights, which will be best for all concerned.”
Disbelief shone in Martin’s eyes. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Very well.” H
e shook his head. “But I am not happy about this, India.”
“I didn’t expect you to be.” She paused. “Have you found a wife yet?”
“What?” He stared in disbelief. “Here? Now?”
“This is the perfect place to begin.” She stepped to one side and directed his attention toward the gathering in the ballroom. “There are any number of eligible ladies here who are in Paris for the sole purpose of attending the exhibition. Ladies who are fascinated by progress and new ideas and the latest inventions. I daresay, some of these ladies—” she waved at the crowd in a grand gesture “—couldn’t be more perfect for you than if we had ordered them from a catalogue.”
“Don’t be absurd.” His gaze wandered over the guests. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” She nodded. “I asked Lady Westvale if there would be any possible matches for you here, and she made sure to put some she thought might be acceptable on your dance card.”
He frowned. “This is rather quick, isn’t it?”
“We did agree you needed a wife.”
He stared at her, a forlorn look of resignation in his eyes. “You really aren’t coming back to me, are you?”
“I thought that was understood,” she said gently. “I think it’s best.” As long as Martin had her to manage his life, he would never find a life of his own. It wasn’t fair to him or to her to remain in his employment. Odd that she had never realized that before. “But I will help you look for a new secretarial assistant, and we shall always be friends.”
“That’s that then, isn’t it?” He managed a weak smile. “I came here to rescue you, you know. Save you from whatever dreadful fate might have befallen you. This is not how I envisioned this ending.” His expression darkened. “If it wasn’t for Saunders, you would never leave me.”
“Perhaps, but Martin.” She placed her hand on his arm and gazed into his eyes. “If it wasn’t for Mr. Saunders and Heloise’s travels and Paris and all of it, you and I might have gone on as we always have for the rest of our days.”
His gaze searched hers. “Would that have been so bad?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But I see now it wouldn’t have been enough, either.”
The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen Page 30
