“I don’t believe I’ve ever called him inestimable.”

“I stand corrected. I was extrapolating. As you have called him brilliant, respectable and honorable.” He shrugged. “Inestimable seemed appropriate.”

“You might as well call him Sir Martin the Great.” It was really quite pleasant strolling beneath the shade of the trees. No wonder those they passed by—fashionably dressed elegant ladies, nannies with charges by the hand or in prams, well-appointed gentlemen—seemed in no particular hurry.

“Don’t you?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed. “He’s simply my employer and, to a certain extent, my friend.”

“He’s more than your friend.” He glanced at her. “Any man who wants a woman to telegraph him every few days thinks of her as far more than a friend.”

She started and nearly tripped.

“You can’t deny it, can you?” he said in an annoyingly smug manner.

“I have no need to deny it.” She sniffed in disdain. “It simply isn’t true and therefore doesn’t warrant a denial.”

“Methinks thou dost protest too much.”

“You needn’t quote Shakespeare—and inaccurately I might add—to make your point. And I am scarcely protesting at all, simply pointing out the facts.” And Martin was the last thing she wished to discuss. “The building we’re passing.” She nodded at the huge, glass and iron structure. “It strongly resembles the Crystal Palace in London.”

“It’s the Palais de l’Industrie and was indeed constructed to rival the Crystal Palace. And you have changed the subject.”

“Very well then. I understand you had a telegram the other day.”

A decidedly satisfied smile lifted the corners of his lips. “And changing it yet again.”

“In point of fact, I am returning to the original subject of my telegram to Sir Martin. Which reminded me that you had recently received a telegram, at least according to my maid.” She adopted a casual tone. “Was it important?”

“Not really,” Derek said. “It was from my uncle.”

“I thought perhaps it was from Lady Blodgett. I hoped she might have had some news about my cousin.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Or perhaps she wished to keep you informed about the activities of the Lady Travelers Society.” She kept her voice light and her gaze on the tall Egyptian obelisk at the end of the avenue. “It does seem to be quite a profitable enterprise.”

“I’m not sure profitable is the right word.”

“Miss Honeywell told me the membership continues to grow.”

“Membership is closed at the moment,” he said firmly.

“Still, in dues alone I would suspect it brings in a significant amount of money.”

“There does seem to be a lot of interest.” He paused. “I wouldn’t have imagined quite so many women would wish to join an organization dedicated to travel. As there are, it turned out to be a rather brilliant idea.”

She nodded. “And a lucrative one.”

He stopped in midstep. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“If one gives any credence to rumor, your finances are not particularly sound. In addition, you have made a few comments about the state of your pockets.”

“My pockets are just fine, thank you.” His jaw tensed, and they resumed walking.

“It just seems to me if you are unable to afford this search for my cousin, someone must be paying the bills. I simply assumed that was the Lady Travelers Society.”

“I wouldn’t assume anything, India. I assure you I am indeed paying my own way.”

“Thanks to the dues from unsuspecting females,” she murmured.

Again he stopped to stare at her. “What are you—”

“What did you and the professor wish to keep from me yesterday?” she said abruptly.

“Nothing of any interest.” His brows drew together in annoyance. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” She sighed. “Which makes this all the more difficult. I very much fear I am beginning to like you. I think, underneath it all, you might well be a good man.”

“Underneath what?”

She waved off his question. “In spite of the fact that I do indeed distrust you, I find I am starting to enjoy your company.”

He snorted in disbelief.

“Come now, Derek—you can’t be all that surprised. Why, men like you depend on their charm. And even someone as sensible and rational as myself is bound to succumb to it at some point. You are like an endless stream of water, and I am a rock starting to wear away.” They paused at an intersection to wait for a break in the relentless stream of traffic. If this is what the Champs-élysées was like when it wasn’t busy, she couldn’t imagine the scene when it was. “Furthermore, I am now willing to accept the hand of friendship you offered at the beginning of our travels.”

“You just said you still don’t trust me.”

“I daresay, any number of people have friends they don’t entirely trust.

“True enough but—”

“Who other people choose as friends is not my concern. As your friend, my only concern is you. And I’m certain, with a little effort—” she favored him with a brilliant smile “—you can earn my trust.”

“I’m so glad one of us is confident,” he said and steered her quickly across the street.

“Which is of little importance really.” She shrugged. “The only truly important matter is finding my cousin. As for everything else...” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “If you would just be honest with me about your involvement with the Lady Travelers Society.”

He pulled up short. “My what?”

The street ended in a huge, open rectangular plaza. The obelisk was centered between two enormous iron fountains colored black and green. Water droplets sparkled in the sunlight and danced over gilded accents. Precisely aligned lampposts outlined the border between the pavement and the street and statues marked the corners. The park Derek had insisted they walk through a few days ago lay beyond the square. “Is this it then? The Place de la Concorde? The true center of Paris?”

“Yes, yes.” Impatience rang in his voice. “What—”

“Isn’t this where the guillotine—”

“Yes,” he snapped. “And as gratified as I am to know that you’ve listened to something I’ve said, this is not the time. What involvement? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be absurd—of course you do.” She glanced from side to side. “You can certainly see everything from here, can’t you? A bridge over the Seine on the right and the arch behind us. Why you can even see that dreadful tower.”

“India.” A warning sounded in his voice.

“My, my Derek, which of us doesn’t wish to see Paris now?” she said pleasantly. It was rather nice annoying him for a change. Still, perhaps it was time. “I’m talking about the fact that the Lady Travelers Society is a fraud. You’re taking funds for the arrangement of travel without the slightest ability to do so. It’s a sham designed to do nothing more than put money in the pockets of the man behind it.” She met his gaze directly. “The man hiding behind three sweet elderly ladies.”

“The man...” His eyes widened with realization. His voice rose. “You mean me?”

“Yes, I mean you. Who else could I possibly mean? I assume you are in this scheme alone.” She frowned. “Unless there is someone else involved?”

“No.” He shook his head, a stunned look on his face. She’d seen the very same expression on the face of one of her young charges during her brief, ill-fated period as a governess when the devil child had been caught adding pepper to his sister’s porridge. “There’s no one else.”

“Excellent.” She nodded. “Otherwise this would be most awkward.”

“Awkward?”

“In detective novels I have read when one miscreant decides to mend his wicked ways, a partner is not always willing to do so. It can then be quite unpleasant.”

“In detective novels.” He paused. “Which are works of fiction.”

“True, but they claim to be based on realistic events. I see no reason not to believe that.”

“No reason whatsoever except they are fiction,” he said. “What makes you think I am willing to mend my wicked ways?”

She wasn’t sure what to say now that he’d admitted his fraudulent activities. How did one convince a man to abandon a moneymaking scheme? None of the detective novels she had read dealt with that particular question. Scoundrels rarely repented unless they were caught and even then were never truly sincere. “Aren’t you?”

He took her elbow and steered her to a nearby bench. “Now then, why do you think I am willing to change? You noted that the Lady Travelers Society is extremely profitable.”

She settled on the bench and positioned her parasol to block the sun. “And you said you were reforming.”

“I was not referring to this.”

“Goodness, Derek, one can’t reform partially. One can’t pick and choose which part of one’s life in which to do better.”

“On the contrary, India.” He smiled. “One can do exactly that.”

She widened her eyes. “This is not some foolish lark you’re engaged in. This is wrong, morally, legally wrong. And think of the scandal, Derek. For the future Earl of Danby to be arrested for fraudulent activities, why, that’s a far cry from a silly, drunken prank.” She leaned forward and met his gaze firmly. “As your friend, it’s my duty to point that out as well as assist you in mending your wicked ways.”

“And if I wish to continue my wicked ways? At least the profitable ones?”

“Then I shall employ every resource possible to see you receive what you deserve.”

“So much for friendship.”

“Sarcasm, Derek, is ill advised at the moment.” She glared at him. “I don’t think you’re treating this with the gravity it merits. I would hate to see you end up in prison or...or worse.”

He raised a brow. “Worse than prison?”

“Infinitely worse.” As the daughter of missionaries, India considered herself a good Christian. Admittedly, she had never been concerned with the trappings of religion, firmly believing Sunday services should be reserved for those whose souls were in need of redemption. Hers was not, although Derek’s obviously was. “Eternal damnation.” She raised her chin. “Hell if you will.”