Upon their return to Paris, Derek sent a telegram to his uncle, asking to be informed the moment the older lady was located.

“Oh, my goodness.” Val rested a limp wrist against his forehead. “Why would she do such a thing? And where is she now?”

“I don’t know.” Derek blew a frustrated breath. “I don’t have the answer to any of that.”

“And that may well be your biggest quandary at the moment,” Val said, resuming his usual voice.

“I have already realized that, but thank you for pointing it out.”

“I believe my initial advice is still the best course. Tell her everything. At the very least it will prove to her this is not the fault of the Lady Travelers Society, and by association, Lady Blodgett’s or yours. As much as it will disappoint her to know she was wrong about you—that you have not been defrauding helpless women out of their savings.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth it.” Derek had been wrestling with this ever since he’d learned the truth.

“Why? Because then she will no longer need to reform you?” Val’s eyes narrowed in a speculative manner. “Or because then she can return to England, and your continuing association will be at an end?”

“Actually,” Derek said slowly, “I hadn’t considered any of that, but I suppose it is worth noting.”

“As you’ve become quite fond of her.” Val paused. “No, that’s not entirely accurate. I’ve become quite fond of her, oddly enough. You like her.”

“She’s easy to like.”

“No, she’s not.” Val snorted. “Although I will say she seems to have loosened, if you will, during her stay here. She is not stretched as taut as she first was.”

“I believe her stay in Paris has been something of a revelation for her.”

“Paris will do that.” He shrugged. “Or perhaps it’s your influence.”

“Possible, I suppose. We are entirely different creatures.” And yet he was hard-pressed to imagine his life continuing without her.

“You’re afraid you’ll lose her if you tell her about her cousin, aren’t you?”

“That’s shockingly perceptive of you.”

“It’s the desk.” Val grinned, then sobered. “I’ve never known you to be a coward.”

“I’ve never had so much at stake before.”

Val stared. “I’m right then. You do have feelings for her.”

“So it would appear.” He shrugged in a helpless manner. “I want to protect her, Val, and I’m not sure I can. Not from this.”

“Regardless, if you care for her, it’s even more important that you tell her what you’ve discovered. If you don’t, it will be that much worse when she finds out.”

“Worse?” Derek said sharply. “How could it possibly be worse than discovering her only family, the woman who has been as much a mother to her as a cousin, the woman who gave her a home when she needed one, has concocted an elaborate scheme to deceive her?”

“Because as hard as that will be for her to learn—” Val met his brother’s gaze “—she will never forgive you for knowing and not telling her.”

For a long moment the brothers stared in silence.

“You’re right. I hate to say it, but you’re right. However...” Derek thought for a moment. “I believe it’s best not to tell her any of this until I know where Lady Heloise is. Right now, regardless of how much we’ve learned, there are still more questions than answers. For her to know Lady Heloise concocted all this but not to know where she is will only increase India’s concern. She’s likely to think all sorts of dire things.”

“Admittedly, it might be wiser to wait.” Val grimaced. “Or it could be an unforgivable mistake. I still think you need to tell her everything you’ve found thus far.”

“If you were in my shoes, would you?”

“It’s the wisest course but...” Val shook his head. “I don’t know. I am eternally grateful I am not in your shoes.”

“The ball is the day after tomorrow,” Derek said. “Mother says India has never been to a ball.”

Val’s brow rose. “What, never?”

“Apparently not. I would hate to ruin it for her. And by then we might have Lady Heloise’s location, as well.” He drew a deep breath. “But regardless, I’ll tell her after the ball.”

Val drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the desk. “What kind of woman has never been to a ball?”

“The kind who never had a season, who never came out in society. The kind who feels it’s her responsibility to earn her own way, who believes things like balls and social events to be frivolous and silly.” Derek’s jaw tightened. “The kind who believes the woman who raised her has a limited income.”

“Lady Heloise?”

Derek nodded. “According to my information, she has a substantial fortune that India is unaware of.”

Val stared at his brother. “Lady Heloise appears to have a lot of secrets.”

“And I am not going to be the one to reveal those secrets.” Learning Lady Heloise not only deceived her about her alleged travels but that she had lied to India her entire life might well devastate her. India did not trust easily, and Derek did not want to be the one to shatter the trust she had in her guardian. “But I’m afraid you’re right. If she learns any of this and then finds out I knew and didn’t tell her...”

“Nasty bit of business, Derek.” Sympathy shone in Val’s eyes. “She may never forgive you if you tell her—blame the messenger and all. And she may never forgive you if you don’t.”

* * *

ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH. In spite of the sense of looming disaster, Derek joined the rest of the house for dinner. India made an appearance, as well, and he could not help but wonder—or perhaps hope—that she missed him as much as he missed her. Still, she made no effort to speak with him privately nor did he. Apparently he truly was a coward when it came to her.

Dinner had the feel of a party to it. Mother played her accustomed role of perfect hostess to the hilt, encouraging and directing conversation around the table. Much of the talk had to do with preparations for the upcoming ball, and Mother made certain the Greers and India understood how delighted she was that they would be in attendance. Derek wasn’t sure if that was as much for the older couple’s benefit as for India’s. And when his mother wasn’t steering the discussion, his stepfather was. Westvale had a heretofore unknown interest in medieval architecture and had apparently read one of the professor’s books. His stepfather also had the unexpected ability to make such an obscure topic interesting for those who were not as well versed in it as Professor Greer. Val took it upon himself to flirt enthusiastically with Estelle and attempted to do so with India, as well. Estelle delighted in his attention, and even India seemed amused. In spite of his best intentions, Derek spent most of the meal studying her.

India was still wearing one of the dresses Estelle had loaned her—Mother had mentioned India’s new clothes were to be delivered in the next few days, thanks to her influence and the added incentive of his stepfather’s fortune. Derek realized his brother was right about India. She was more at ease than she had been when they’d first started out on the quest to find Lady Heloise. Would that vanish when she knew the truth? He still had two more days until he would be forced to find out.

Through the course of the meal, every now and then when Derek’s gaze returned to India, she would be watching him. Her expression gave no indication of what she was thinking but her gaze would meet his with a sort of bemused acknowledgment. And what was surely a promise, although admittedly that might have only been in his head.

If this was the woman he wanted, and with every passing day, any doubt about that faded, then he needed to do something. Something romantic and irresistible. And he needed to do it before he told her about her cousin. If he didn’t want to lose her, in the next two days, he would have to win her heart. And offer her his. A grand romantic gesture was obviously called for.

By the time dinner had ended Derek had acknowledged what he had already suspected. For good or ill, he had fallen in love with the indomitable Miss India Prendergast.

And he had the power to ruin her life.


CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


This guide would be remiss if it failed to mention the necessary yet distasteful topic of money. As there is no certain method to safeguard one’s traveling funds against thieves, highwaymen, gypsies, scoundrels and one’s own incompetence, we shall not attempt to provide one. Our apologies.

—The Lady Travelers Society Guide


“GOOD DAY, INDIA,” Derek said, stepping out from behind the grouping of potted palms that flanked each side of the closed ballroom doors.

“Derek!” India pulled up short, her breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t see you.”

“I was trying to find a button that popped off my coat and rolled away under the foliage.” He chuckled. “Although I suppose I could have been hiding.”

She raised a brow. “From me?”

“I would hate to scare you away.”

“Nonsense. I see nothing to be scared about. Not really.” Although she had been something of a coward. She needed to apologize and perhaps confess or whatever else might be necessary to set things right with Derek. Last night was the first time she’d seen him for more than a moment since their altercation at the Eiffel Tower. Thanks to Lady Westvale, India had had barely any time in the last few days to dwell on what had passed between them. Still, their quarrel, as well as the kisses they’d shared, refused to be banished from her mind, especially late at night when sleep eluded her. And when she did sleep, her slumber was filled with dreams of flying like a bird over the city of Paris, or the feel of his lips pressing against hers and the distinct longing for more, or the hurt in his blue eyes.

She never should have told him she didn’t trust him. Her heart twisted every time she remembered the look on his face. If she believed in him—and she did—surely she trusted him, as well. Pity, she hadn’t realized that sooner. At least she now knew she was wrong. Now she wondered what else she was wrong about. “Although I suspect matters like this are always difficult.”