Victoria Alexander - The Lady Travelers Guide To Scoundrels And Other Gentlemen

The look in Miss Prendergast’s eyes softened, and for a moment, one could see how she might possibly, under certain circumstances, be considered almost attractive. “Thank you, Lady Blodgett.” She drew a deep breath. “Three days from now is acceptable.”

“Good.” Aunt Guinevere nodded with satisfaction. “I shall speak with the couple I have in mind tomorrow, and, with any luck at all, you will have your chaperones. You and Derek will want to meet them, of course.”

Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore leaned toward Miss Prendergast in a confidential manner. “It’s always wise to meet one’s traveling companions in advance. One would hate to be trapped on a journey with a companion one finds distasteful.”

Miss Prendergast shot Derek a disgusted glance. “I suspect that would be...awkward.”

“You shall join me for tea at my house to meet the couple the day after tomorrow.” Aunt Guinevere announced with satisfaction. “Now that we have that settled—”

“We have settled nothing.” Derek clenched his teeth. This was quickly getting out of hand. If he didn’t nip this in the bud right now, he’d have half of London following him around Europe. “I am not about to set off on a wild-goose chase—”

Miss Prendergast gasped. “I beg your pardon. This is my cousin. She is not a wild goose.”

“Very well then.” He struggled to keep his voice level. “A missing-goose chase—” Miss Prendergast’s eyes narrowed “—dragging three people, their respective mounds of luggage and servants.” He pinned her with a hard look. “How many lady’s maids do you intend to bring with you, Miss Prendergast?”

Her chin rose. “I am more than capable of seeing to my own needs, Mr. Saunders. I can function perfectly well without a maid.”

“Then you’re the first woman I’ve met who can.”

“Derek,” Aunt Guinevere said sharply. “Your objections are pointless. Miss Prendergast strikes me as the kind of woman who will not be dissuaded simply to make your life less difficult.”

“No doubt,” he said under his breath.

“Then we are agreed.” Aunt Guinevere’s gaze met his, and a subtle but distinct look of victory shone in her eyes. Of course. In one fell swoop she would vanquish the woman who could shatter the unsteady house of cards she and her friends had built as well as the man who had put a damper on her plans.

“That matter perhaps,” he said in a firm tone. “But there are still things we need to discuss before I leave.”

“I was afraid there might be.” Aunt Guinevere sighed, the gleam of victory changing to one of resignation.

Under other circumstances, Derek might feel badly about extinguishing the light in an elderly lady’s eyes, but he had already learned Aunt Guinevere and her cronies were not nearly the sweet, doddering innocents he had initially assumed.

“Very well then.” Miss Prendergast rose to her feet. “I shall be on my way.” She turned toward the door.

Derek hurried around the desk to escort her out. He opened the door and nodded. “Rest assured, Miss Prendergast. We will find your cousin.”

“Tell me, Mr. Saunders.” Her assessing gaze searched his. “If I had not written expressing my concerns over the loss of my cousin and had not appeared here in person, would you still be venturing out to find her now?”

“Without question, Miss Prendergast,” he said without hesitation. Admittedly, he hadn’t known of the existence of the Lady Travelers Society or what his great-aunt and her friends had been up to until last week. But he had already realized he would have to take this matter in hand himself if he was to save the trio from the repercussions of their activities and save his own future, as well. “And you have my word that I shall do my very best to assure the success of our endeavor.”

“How disheartening, Mr. Saunders. I was so hoping you could do better than that.” She nodded, turned and took her leave.

“And a good day to you, too, Miss Prendergast,” he called after her. Better to be at least nominally cordial than sound like an idiot. Unfortunately, all the brilliant responses that immediately came to mind would not have been nearly as clever when said aloud and would only have reinforced her opinion of him.

“Excellent retort, Mr. Saunders,” one of the ladies said behind him, a distinct note of sarcasm in her voice.

A heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach.

It was going to be a very long quest.

CHAPTER FOUR

“DARE I ASK if your visit to the Lady Travelers Society was successful?” Sir Martin Luckthorne studied India from behind the cluttered desk in his library. She made a mental note to tidy it up before she left for the day.

“It was...” She pressed her lips firmly together. “Adequate.”

“And yet you seem in such a cordial mood,” he said pleasantly.

Her gaze snapped to his. “Sarcasm, Sir Martin, is uncalled for.”

“Sarcasm, Miss Prendergast, is the thinking man’s defense against despair.”

“Is that a legitimate saying, or did you make it up?”

“The fact that I made it up makes it no less legitimate.”

“Now you’re just trying to distract me by being amusing.” She frowned. “I am not fond of your attempts to disarm me.”

“And yet much of the rest of humanity is grateful for my efforts on their behalf.” A wry smile quirked his lips.

“You know I never lose my temper.” India prided herself on keeping her emotions firmly in hand, even on days like today when it was a distinct challenge.

“You, my dear, can say more with the look in your eyes than anyone I’ve ever met,” he said mildly. “A look designed to strike terror into the hearts of even the most stalwart of men.”

“Nonsense.” She sniffed.

He raised a skeptical brow.

“I do nothing of the sort,” she said, although her denial did not ring entirely true. And, unfortunately, Martin knew it. Aside from Heloise, he knew her better than anyone. And why not?

While it would be terribly improper to admit it aloud, she considered her employer a friend. Indeed, aside from Heloise, he was her only friend. It was inevitable really. When one spent almost every day with a man for eight years—taking care of very nearly everything in his life—some sort of cordial relationship would surely develop. Or one would have to move on. Although she hadn’t expected the kind of affection one would feel for an impractical older brother to grow between them. But then neither had she expected to be in his employ for eight years.

In truth, she was fortunate to have found this position at all. While Heloise had a trust from her late father—who’d died long before she took in India—that was sufficient to meet their needs, it provided little beyond what Heloise considered the necessities in life. India had insisted on contributing to their unusual family’s coffers and had sought work the moment she’d finished her education at Miss Bicklesham’s Academy. Heloise knew her ward better than to encourage marriage, and, really, what was the point? Aside from the adequate dowry that Heloise had set aside for her, India had nothing to commend her as a suitable match. Her family was respectable but not noteworthy. She came from neither wealth nor power. As far as society was concerned, she did not exist. She’d had no debutante season nor had she ever desired one. After all, the sole purpose of coming out in society was to find a husband. Marriage was simply not of interest to India. Heloise had never married and she seemed quite content with her life.

Heloise had tried to persuade her to pursue higher education, and they’d had an ongoing dispute about the subject until India had reluctantly agreed to take evening classes at Queen’s College. Classes she continued through her brief employment as a governess and by correspondence during her mercifully short interlude as a teacher at Miss Bicklesham’s. India Prendergast was the first to admit she was not cut out to shape young minds.