“Reluctantly.”

“I do apologize if I did not muster up the proper level of enthusiasm,” she said lightly.

“I think you even enjoyed Montmartre.”

“Everything looks better in hindsight, Derek.” She bit back a smile. The further away they moved from that night, the more, well, adventurous it became. Certainly, she had never sought adventure, but it did seem when adventure presented itself, it was irrational to waste the experience. Only as a lesson learned, of course.

“I suppose if you admit you’re enjoying something then you would have to admit that you might, just might, have been wrong,” he said thoughtfully.

“I don’t refuse to admit when I’m wrong.” She sniffed. “It’s simply that I am never wrong.”

His brow rose.

“If one is right, there is no need to doubt one’s actions. Especially if one has responsibilities for the well-being of others.” Although she was beginning to lose track of how many times she’d been wrong since she’d met Derek.

“You were wrong about coming up here.”

“On the contrary, I never said a word in protest.”

He snorted. “You didn’t have to. It was apparent.”

She was about to deny it when it struck her that, once again, he was right. Whether it was habit or inclination she did exactly what he was charging. Without warning, she saw herself as an old woman, complaining about everything that wasn’t done precisely to her liking and refusing to acknowledge when something was better than she expected. When she was wrong. As that would surely be a sign of...what? Weakness? Dependence? Not accepting one’s duty? She had no idea, but it was a horrible image and certainly the end of the path she was on. Worse, it did seem that woman was not merely old but alone. As a glimpse of the future it was terrifying. But was it unavoidable, as well?

“India?” he said cautiously. “You look distraught. I am sorry if I—”

“Well, you did,” she said sharply. “Even if you’ve said nothing that probably isn’t true.” She drew a deep breath. “Ever since I arrived in Paris, ever since I met you, it seems everyone I meet is determined to point out my...my flaws to me. Flaws I was quite frankly unaware of. No one has ever seen fit to mention them before.”

“Perhaps you didn’t give them a chance.”

“Perhaps it was better that way!”

“Perhaps,” he said mildly and wisely changed the subject. “If we follow the railing to the left, we should be able to see the Cathedral of Notre Dame.”

“I believe I will enjoy that.” She glared and moved in the direction he indicated. “I can hardly wait to see what flaws God might see fit to point out to me.”

He choked back a laugh behind her. She ignored him. She was not the least bit amused.

From this distance, the cathedral looked like little more than a child’s toy but then everything below them did. Carriages, omnibuses, tramway cars were nothing more than moving shapes. People were no bigger than minuscule insects. It was an interesting perspective on the world, and her irritation faded.

She braced her hands on the railing and stared out at the cathedral and beyond. She had heard that travel broadened one’s mind. She wasn’t sure if her mind had been broadened at all, but her eyes had certainly been opened. She had already realized she had a propensity for intolerance and a greater tendency toward impatience than she had thought, especially with the flaws of others. Now she was discovering she had a great many unsuspected flaws herself. Flaws she should probably correct. But not today. Determination squared her chin. Today, she had a scoundrel to redeem.

“Derek.” She glanced at him beside her. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh good, I was afraid you hadn’t,” he said in a resigned manner.

She frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“In the two days since I agreed to let you try to convince me to reform, for lack of a better word, you have begun every conversation on the subject with ‘I’ve been thinking.’”

“And you have cut off every conversation.”

“Because I had no intention of listening to you until you began fulfilling your end of the bargain.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” She waved at the panorama around them. “On top of the highest structure man has ever built.”

“But you’re not very gracious about it.”

“I am bloody delighted!”

He lowered his voice. “We are beginning to attract attention. It scarcely matters to me but—”

“Once more you’re right.” She forced a smile. “Is that better?”

“If you mean the alleged smile—it’s somewhat frightening.” He returned his gaze to the panoramic view. “However, I am made of sterner stuff than to let an insincere smile dissuade me.”

“That is good to know.” She widened her smile although she suspected it did look more like her stomach hurt than anything remotely pleasant. Regardless, it was the best she could manage at the moment. “I was only going to say that I was wondering if my cousin had made it up here. Going to the top of the Eiffel Tower was one of the things she hoped to do in Paris.”

“Then I can’t imagine she would have missed it.” He paused. “Which could indicate we might be close to finding her.”

“Are we?”

“The elevators only began operating last week. I can’t imagine even the intrepid Lady Heloise would wish to climb the steps.”

“No, she’s not overly fond of steps.”

“If she was here as recently as last week, she might still be here.”

India nodded. “The exposition and the tower were two of the reasons she intended to linger for a while in Paris. That and the art.”

“I think you mentioned her interest in art before.”

“Heloise adores art and has studied it for most of her life. She also fancies herself an artist. She has a studio of sorts on the top floor of the house and spends a great deal of time with her paints and brushes and canvases.”

“Rather frivolous, don’t you think?” he teased.

“Not at all,” she said staunchly, then sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid I do. Especially as, well, she’s not very good at it. The walls of the house are covered with her efforts. She’s quite proud of them.”

“And you have never told her the truth?”

“Goodness, Derek, I would never tell her that.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

She glanced at him but his attention was still on the scenic view. “You’re surprised.”

He chuckled.

“I deserve that I suppose. But Heloise has been very kind to me. She is my family.” She hesitated then plunged ahead. “Heloise was my mother’s cousin. My parents were engaged in missionary work when they died. I had just started at Miss Bicklesham’s—I was always boarding at some school or another as my parents were rarely in England. Heloise was named my guardian and my home has been with her ever since. She managed to continue to fund my education even though her income is limited.”

“Is it?”

She nodded. “I owe her a great deal. She’s been both mother and dearest friend to me.” Her throat tightened. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“Or what she would do without you?”

“Perhaps.” She pushed aside the disconcerting thought of never seeing Heloise again. “I took over management of her household and very nearly everything else when I finished school. She has only the vaguest idea how to run a house. She never concerns herself with what she deems unimportant details. She does see to the household accounts but only because I stand over her and force her to do so although she has always been concerned about money.” She smiled. “But Heloise is not what one would call organized.”

“Imagine my surprise.”

“This excursion of hers is a perfect example. Right from the beginning, she was not definitive in her travel plans. She said she might be gone anywhere from six months to a year and fully intended to stay as long as she wished anywhere that caught her fancy.” She thought for a moment. “I did not pay as much attention to the details as I should have. I’m not sure I thought she would really leave.”

He nodded.

“You’ve mentioned the lax nature of her itinerary—” she glanced at him “—for which I blame the Lady Travelers Society as much as I blame Heloise.”

“As well you should.”

She turned toward him. “The other day you derided me because I have no desires, nothing I particularly want. I admit I don’t understand it, but Heloise wanted to see for herself things she had only seen in paintings or photographs. It was her dream. I had no idea she was doing it, but it seems she set aside money for years—small bits and pieces she could ill afford really, so that she might one day see the world beyond England’s shores. I suspect she gave up a fresh canvas here or a new tube of paint there to save funds for this trip of hers. I imagine in that respect, she was not unlike most of the members of the Lady Travelers Society.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “In that they wish to see the world?”

“And they are willing to sacrifice to do so.” Determination strengthened her voice. “I saw the ladies at the meeting, Derek. They were not wealthy. Women with money do not attend lectures and meetings about travel. They travel. They do not have to save their pennies to finance their dreams. The women you are taking money from do.”

An undefined emotion washed across his face. Guilt perhaps? Or regret?

“One could say you are stealing their dreams.”

He winced. “It sounds awful when you put it like that.”

“It is awful.”

“I had not looked at it in quite that way.” He shook his head. “It certainly deserves further consideration.”

“Good.” At the moment, that was all she could ask for. But the very fact that he would consider what she had said was gratifying. As was the expression on his face. She was right—underneath it all, Derek was a good man.

“For someone who admits she has no dreams...” He studied her closely. “You seem to understand quite a lot about them.”