Victoria Alexander - The Lady Traveller's Guide To Deception With An Unlikely Earl

“On the contrary, Mr. Armstrong, I believed she called your uncle an arrogant, ill-tempered buffoon,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said pleasantly. “If you choose to substitute another term, well, you would certainly know better than we.”

“Lady Blodgett was right. An apology is in order and I shall gladly offer that apology.” Mrs. Gordon smiled but her eyes blazed. “I am dreadfully sorry for having ignored the sensibilities of buffoons everywhere and unjustly insulting them by adding your uncle, and you as well, to their company.”

“Now, see here,” Harry began.

“Good day, Mr. Cadwallender.” A man nearly as tall as Harry, and several years younger, strode up to their group. “I hope I’m not late, sir.”

“Not at all, Corbin.” Cadwallender was clearly trying not to grin. “Mr. Armstrong and the ladies were just becoming acquainted. Ladies, this is one of my finest reporters, Mr. Daniel Corbin. He will be on hand to record Mrs. Gordon’s triumph.”

“Or defeat,” Harry said under his breath.

“And will be sending dispatches along the way as to Mrs. Gordon’s new adventures in Egypt.” The publisher paused. “That is a catchy title. I shall have to remember that.” He turned to the ladies. “Corbin, allow me to introduce Lady Blodgett.”

“Lady Blodgett.” Corbin took her hand and raised it to his lips. “It’s an honor and a privilege to meet you, my lady. I was a great admirer of your husband.”

“Lady Blodgett’s late husband, Sir Charles Blodgett, was quite a well-known explorer,” Cadwallender said in an aside to Harry.

“Of course,” Harry murmured.

Lady Blodgett tilted her head slightly and considered the reporter. “How very kind of you to say, Mr. Corbin.”

“And this is Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore,” Cadwallender said.

Corbin turned to Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore and took her hand. “Mr. Cadwallender did not tell me I would be in such august company. I am delighted to meet you, Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore. Your husband’s reputation among his fellow explorers was legendary.”

It was all Harry could do to keep from snorting in derision. He would wager significant money that Corbin did indeed know exactly who made up Mrs. Gordon’s party and had made inquiries into their backgrounds in advance of this meeting.

“Thank you, Mr. Corbin.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore dimpled. “Malcolm would be most pleased to know he has not been forgotten.”

“I daresay he never will be,” Corbin said firmly.

“And Mrs. Higginbotham.” Cadwallender indicated the dragon.

“No doubt you have something nice to say about my husband as well.” The dragon eyed the reporter suspiciously but offered her hand.

“Mrs. Higginbotham.” Corbin took her hand and gazed into her eyes. “My favorite uncle served with your husband in the Crimea. He often said there was no finer officer to serve under than Colonel Higginbotham and credits your husband with his survival of that conflict. Allow me to offer my thanks from my entire family.”

“Oh.” The dragon looked a bit taken aback. Harry wouldn’t have thought it possible. Then she smiled and for a moment, he could see she must have been quite lovely in her youth. “I was right. That was very nice, Mr. Corbin.”

Corbin laughed and turned to Mrs. Gordon. “Which means you must be Mrs. Gordon.”

“Well, if I must.” Mrs. Gordon extended her hand.

“I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you at last. I am an ardent follower of your Tales .” Corbin raised her gloved hand to his lips in an absurd and well-practiced display of inappropriate gallantry, his gaze never wavering from hers. “But I had no idea the writer of such exciting adventures would be quite so lovely.”

“What did you expect, Mr. Corbin?” Mrs. Gordon smiled, a distinctly flirtatious sort of smile in Harry’s opinion.

“I’m not sure exactly.” Corbin continued to gaze into her eyes. Did the man have no sense of restraint? “But I did not expect someone as lovely as she is brilliant. May I tell you how much I admire your work? I find your writing fascinating and completely absorbing. You, Mrs. Gordon, have the rare ability to take your readers on a journey of adventure and excitement.”

Harry snorted.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Corbin, not everyone agrees with you.” Mrs. Gordon nodded in Harry’s direction.

“Ah yes.” Corbin released Mrs. Gordon’s hand reluctantly and turned his attention to Harry. “Mr. Armstrong, I presume?”

“Mr. Corbin.” Harry nodded and accepted the man’s offered hand. Corbin’s handshake was even firmer than his employer’s. Too firm really, as if he was trying to prove a point. Harry tightened his grip in response. Two could play at whatever game this reporter was playing.

Corbin released his hand and Harry ignored the need to flex his fingers. “You’re rather well-known yourself among archeologists and Egyptologists, Mr. Armstrong.”

Apparently the ladies weren’t the only ones Corbin researched, although obviously not well as he made no reference to Harry’s newfound title. Good. “I have spent a number of years in Egypt.”

“Mr. Armstrong considers himself quite an expert on all things Egyptian,” Mrs. Gordon said coolly.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “As do you.”

Mrs. Gordon shrugged in an offhand manner as if her knowledge was not in question and turned to Cadwallender. “It was quite thoughtful of you to see us off, Mr. Cadwallender. And most appreciated.”

“Here’s to an excellent voyage and a successful journey.” Cadwallender took her hand and smiled. “I have every confidence in you, Mrs. Gordon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cadwallender.” She slanted a quick glance at Harry then smiled up at the publisher. “I assure you, you will not be disappointed.” She stepped back and looked at the other women. “Ladies, shall we board?”

“Will we see you at dinner tonight?” Corbin asked, the most annoying note of eagerness in his voice.

“I doubt it. I prefer to spend the first night on a ship in my rooms. But tomorrow—” she cast the reporter a brilliant smile “—I will certainly see you tomorrow.” She nodded at the publisher. “Farewell, Mr. Cadwallender.”

Cadwallender tipped his hat. “Bon voyage, Mrs. Gordon.”

“Mr. Armstrong,” she said curtly, turned and moved toward the ship.

The other ladies bid Cadwallender farewell and then followed Mrs. Gordon in a flutter of feminine excitement. She started up the gangplank, her entourage trailing behind.

“Splendid job, Sidney.” Lady Blodgett’s voice drifted back to him. One thing he had already noticed about traveling with this particular group, whether it was intentional or simply the result of aging, but all three older ladies spoke a bit louder than perhaps necessary.

Mrs. Gordon’s chin raised just a notch. He would have thought she couldn’t hold herself any straighter but apparently he was wrong.

Cadwallender chuckled. “This should be an interesting trip. I’m almost sorry I’m not coming along.” He grinned at Harry. “Bon voyage, Mr. Armstrong. I have no doubt Mrs. Gordon will prove his lordship’s charges completely false. I would wish you good luck but I’m certain you understand why I don’t.” He glanced at the ladies, now stepping onto the ship. “Although I suspect you will need it. Corbin, a word please before you board.” He turned and stepped away.

“Yes, sir.” Corbin cast an admiring glance toward the ship. “A truly fine specimen of the very best England has to offer.”

Harry wasn’t sure he would completely agree. “She does appear to be a seaworthy enough vessel.”

“Actually, Armstrong.” Corbin tore his gaze from the ship. “I wasn’t referring to the ship.” He grinned in a self-assured manner and hurried after his employer.