“Oh.” A bemused expression crossed her face. “I was simply hoping for nice.”

“Nice is not sufficient.”

“I shall have to wear this dress all the time.”

“It’s not the dress, although it is lovely.”

“Come now, Derek, I have always been the very definition of ordinary.”

“In your eyes perhaps. Although I would imagine Sir Martin disagrees,” he added in an offhand manner.

“Apparently.” She sighed, and a troubled frown creased her forehead. “I shall have to find a new assistant for him and a new position for myself when we have found Heloise and return to London.”

“You won’t continue your employment with him?”

“I don’t see how I possibly can after he...well, his actions, coming here and...” She shook her head. “It is both surprising and disappointing.”

“Ah well, life is often unpredictable.” Derek resisted the urge to grin with triumph.

“You’re quite pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

“I have nothing to do with this.” He adopted an innocent expression. “But, yes, I am.”

The music faded and he led her to a graceful stop, releasing her with reluctance.

“Don’t be smug—it’s unbecoming.”

“And yet you think it’s charming.”

“Perhaps a little.” She bit her bottom lip—her delectable, luscious lip—to hold back a smile and his stomach tightened. “I believe my next dance is with the professor. Or perhaps it’s promised to Martin. I should check my card.”

She took his arm, and they walked off the floor.

“Try not to enjoy it.”

She laughed, and the sound wrapped around his soul. He vowed to himself never to take her laugh for granted and do whatever was needed to make certain he heard it every day, for the rest of his life.

“I have never danced with Martin so I can’t say if I will enjoy it or not.” Amusement twinkled in her eyes.

“I shall hope for the best. You do remember I claimed the last dance as well as the first?”

“I do.”

“Although—” he took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips “—if I had my way, you would dance every dance with me.” He met her gaze directly. “Always.”

“You’re trying to be charming again, aren’t you?”

“Is it working?”

“Goodness, Derek, if I told you that it would only go to your head.” She stared at him for a long moment. “But, if you must know...yes.” A slow smile curved her lips. “Always.”

* * *

INDIA DIDN’T HAVE a dance with Martin until midway through the second set. She had expected to dance with Lords Brookings and Westvale, as well as Professor Greer, but she did not anticipate dance after dance with strangers.

The first dance after Derek’s, with a member of the House of Commons, was awkward. He was no more accomplished at idle chat than she. But with every new partner, she grew more confident—in both conversation and the dance. And every new partner was completely different from the last. Among those she had danced with thus far was a Scottish lord who had far more exuberance on the dance floor than skill, a well-known architect who was acquainted with Professor Greer and an American businessman who went on and on about the charms of Paris. A few weeks ago, India would have argued with him. Now...everything had changed.

Martin at last joined her for their dance, a hurt look on his face. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you have been avoiding me. We have only one dance together. My dance card was given to me already filled.”

“And wasn’t that wonderfully convenient for both of us?” she said brightly. India had been surprised at finding her own dance card filled, but she was well aware Lady Westvale intended to fill Martin’s with an eye toward partnering him with ladies who might share his intellectual interests.

“I have something to tell you,” he said as he swept her into the dance. “But it seems I can’t talk and dance at the same time.” He was having a difficult time matching his steps to the music.

“We could just dance.”

“This is important.” He met her gaze firmly. “Very important.”

At the next opportunity, he steered her through the columns to the gallery.

“Well?” She tried and failed to hide her impatience. “What is so important?”

“I heard Mr. Saunders confess to everything.” A note of triumph sounded in his voice.

She narrowed her eyes. “Did you?”

“I did indeed.” He smirked. She’d never seen him quite so self-satisfied before. It was most annoying.

She folded her arms over her chest. “Exactly what is everything?”

“Everything.” Martin gestured wildly. “You know—all of it!”

“Exactly, if you please.”

“Very well.” He huffed. “I heard him admit that he was the mastermind behind the Lady Travelers Society and that he was profiting from the desires of unsuspecting women who wish to travel. Or words to that effect.”

“I see.” Even though Derek would set things right, he should know better than to open his mouth about his misdeeds. What was the man thinking? “Who did he say this to?”

“His mother!” Victory rang in Martin’s voice. “One does not lie to one’s mother.”

“And he used the word mastermind?” While Derek had seemed pleased at being called a mastermind, India doubted he would include such a title in any confession.

“He did indeed. And he said he wishes to avoid prison.”

“Anyone with any sense wishes to avoid prison.”

“Don’t you see, India? I heard him confess.” Martin fairly quivered with righteous excitement. “I can testify to that in court. We can have him arrested and tried and thrown in prison!”

“Goodness, Martin, I don’t want him arrested.”

Martin threw his hands up in frustration. “Because you love him. Really, India, you need to set that aside and consider the...the greater good, if you will.”

“My feelings for him are beside the point. I have always been an excellent judge of character, and I now believe Mr. Saunders is a decent man who has simply wandered off the path of moral behavior. I have absolutely no doubt he will set everything to rights, which will be best for all concerned.”

Disbelief shone in Martin’s eyes. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Very well.” He shook his head. “But I am not happy about this, India.”

“I didn’t expect you to be.” She paused. “Have you found a wife yet?”

“What?” He stared in disbelief. “Here? Now?”

“This is the perfect place to begin.” She stepped to one side and directed his attention toward the gathering in the ballroom. “There are any number of eligible ladies here who are in Paris for the sole purpose of attending the exhibition. Ladies who are fascinated by progress and new ideas and the latest inventions. I daresay, some of these ladies—” she waved at the crowd in a grand gesture “—couldn’t be more perfect for you than if we had ordered them from a catalogue.”

“Don’t be absurd.” His gaze wandered over the guests. “Do you really think so?”

“I do.” She nodded. “I asked Lady Westvale if there would be any possible matches for you here, and she made sure to put some she thought might be acceptable on your dance card.”

He frowned. “This is rather quick, isn’t it?”

“We did agree you needed a wife.”

He stared at her, a forlorn look of resignation in his eyes. “You really aren’t coming back to me, are you?”

“I thought that was understood,” she said gently. “I think it’s best.” As long as Martin had her to manage his life, he would never find a life of his own. It wasn’t fair to him or to her to remain in his employment. Odd that she had never realized that before. “But I will help you look for a new secretarial assistant, and we shall always be friends.”

“That’s that then, isn’t it?” He managed a weak smile. “I came here to rescue you, you know. Save you from whatever dreadful fate might have befallen you. This is not how I envisioned this ending.” His expression darkened. “If it wasn’t for Saunders, you would never leave me.”

“Perhaps, but Martin.” She placed her hand on his arm and gazed into his eyes. “If it wasn’t for Mr. Saunders and Heloise’s travels and Paris and all of it, you and I might have gone on as we always have for the rest of our days.”

His gaze searched hers. “Would that have been so bad?”

“No.” She shook her head. “But I see now it wouldn’t have been enough, either.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “Right again as always, India.” He covered her hand with his. “As your friend, I should like to finish this dance with you.”

She smiled. “I shall be delighted.”

They stepped back on the floor and resumed their dance, mercifully nearing an end. In spite of his alleged acceptance of her decision, Martin had the distinct look of a lost puppy about him.

A few dances later, she found herself partnered with Lord Brookings, who seemed oddly preoccupied and not his usual self.

“Are you having a wonderful time tonight, Miss Prendergast?” Percival asked when they’d begun their dance together.

“I am indeed, my lord.” She studied him closely. “But you aren’t, are you?”

“I am. Or rather, I will. I simply ran into someone I did not expect to see.”

She had noticed him dancing with a dark-haired woman a few minutes ago, an odd expression on his face. “Someone important?”

“Not anymore.” He smiled down at her. “Have you met the American inventor Mother invited?”

“Not yet.” She paused. “I gather this is your attempt to change the subject?”

He ignored her and continued. “The American’s name escapes me for a moment but I do think...”

She smiled and surrendered.

Every now and then she would catch sight of Derek. He was not dancing as much as she, and it was rather satisfying. Sometimes, their gazes would meet, and her heart would race. Sometimes she would catch him unawares, in conversation or at the start of a dance, and she marveled at the odd turn her life had taken. All because Heloise wanted the adventure of travel. She wished her cousin was here now. Heloise probably would have liked this.