“Here, we have a properly addressed and labeled trunk.” Mrs. Higginbotham pulled off the sheet on the form to her right to reveal a new trunk covered in checked canvas with wood slats, leather bindings and brass accents. “This arrived only today from Paris.”

“With your new clothes inside,” a voice said quietly beside her. “Mother sent it.”

“Derek!” Her pulse jumped.

“Quiet.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Aunt Guinevere does not like interruptions during the lectures.”

“Yes, of course, but we have a great deal to talk about.” It was all she could do to keep from throwing her arms around him.

“Shh.” He nodded toward the podium. He certainly seemed to have no difficulty keeping himself in check. Her heart sank.

“And here we have a wretched example of what happens when luggage is not addressed properly.” Mrs. Higginbotham aimed a chastising look at her audience, as if each and every one of them was complicit in the mislabeling of luggage. “While intended for shipment to Paris—” She pulled the cover off the second covered shape.

India gasped. “That’s my trunk!”

“It instead traveled to Prague.”

India stared. “Prague?”

“These things happen you know.” Derek shrugged. “Prague, Paris, it’s an easy mistake.”

“No, it’s not.” India shook her head. “Prague and Paris are not at all alike save that they begin with P.” She narrowed her eyes. “You filled out the luggage labels before we left London.”

“Did I?” He smiled in an overly innocent manner. “I really can’t recall. And it scarcely matters as you now have your trunk back.”

“Derek—”

“Mr. Saunders.” Mrs. Higginbotham’s voice rang from the podium. “Might I suggest you take your discussion out of the room so that the attention of everyone here will be on today’s topic of lost luggage rather than straining to hear what you and Miss Prendergast have to say to each other? Although I am certain it is fascinating.”

“Quite right, Mrs. Higginbotham, it is fascinating. My apologies.” Derek nodded to the rest of the group. “Ladies.”

He grabbed India’s hand and fairly dragged her out of the room. The moment the doors closed behind them, he turned to her.

“Derek, I—”

He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers, stealing her breath and searing her heart. At last he raised his head from hers and grinned down at her. “Good day, Miss Prendergast.”

“Mr. Saunders.” She stared up at him. Why was it with this man she rarely knew what to say? “You look...well.”

He laughed. “Not bad for a man newly released from prison.”

She winced. “I am sorry about that. Sir Martin thought—”

Derek’s brow rose. “It was his doing?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Not yours?”

“No.” She sighed. “Even before I found out the truth about the Lady Travelers Society and your great-aunt and her friends, I didn’t want you incarcerated.”

“I would prefer to stay out of prison.”

“And keep Lady Blodgett and the others out of prison, as well.”

He nodded. “I have made arrangements to ensure the society is completely aboveboard in the future.”

“Oh?”

“Lord Westvale has a number of business interests and associates. One of them is something of a travel entrepreneur who thinks the idea of a travel society and agency aimed at women is brilliant. He is purchasing the assets of the society—mostly the membership rolls and the name—along with the services of Aunt Guinevere and her friends. They will receive a tidy initial sum as well as a quarterly stipend for their continued services. They will also remain the public face of the society, and will continue to give their lectures and their advice for as long as they wish to do so. They will not, however, arrange any travel. Ever.”

She laughed. “Brilliant solution.”

He grinned. “I thought so.”

She studied him closely. “I haven’t reformed you then, have I?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Because there was nothing to reform.”

“Not when it comes to the Lady Travelers Society.” He chuckled. “I am sorry you’re disappointed, but I daresay I have any number of other wicked ways that you may turn your attention to.”

“You intend to go on with your wicked ways?”

“Absolutely.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “As reforming me will keep you extremely busy.”

“Good.” She shivered beneath his touch and resisted the urge to melt into a small puddle at his feet. “Oh, as for my saying I was not the type of woman you should marry—”

“You were wrong.”

She frowned. “Am I to spend the rest of my life being wrong about everything?”

“I do hope so.” He grinned against her neck. “Think of the fun we will have.”

The most tantalizing sense of anticipation filled her at the idea of exactly what that fun entailed. A feeling obviously attributable to the caress of his lips, which was indeed most delightful. She tried and failed to hide the breathless note in her voice. “I now see all those very legitimate reasons why we cannot wed are silly. Therefore, I am now willing to marry you.”

He raised his head and stared down at her. “I don’t believe I’ve asked.”

“I am well aware of that.” She huffed. “It is most annoying. Although you did state your intentions quite clearly.”

“Regardless...” He shook his head regretfully. “I don’t think a man can be held to anything he might say when he is not fully clothed.”

“Very well then.” She shrugged. “Don’t marry me.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you going to do this for the rest of my life?”

“Do what?”

“Drive me stark, raving mad.”

She stifled the laughter bubbling up inside her. “I do hope so, Derek.” She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his lips back to hers. What she’d found—what they’d found—certainly wasn’t sensible or practical or rational. She doubted if anything connected to love would be at all efficient or organized. Odd that none of that mattered in the least compared to the sheer joy of being in his arms. Of him in her life. The carefree scoundrel and the sensible spinster.

For now, and for the rest of their days.

It made absolutely no sense at all.

* * *

THE DOOR TO the lecture hall quietly closed.

“Do you think they saw us?” Poppy’s gaze slid from one friend to the next.

“Oh, I doubt it.” Gwen waved off the question. “I suspect they wouldn’t have cared anyway. And we only had the door open a crack. As it was, the three of us had to jostle for position.”

“Poppy would barely let anyone else get a look.” Effie glared at the other woman.

“There really wasn’t much to see,” Poppy murmured. “But it was quite lovely.”

“Nor do we wish to intrude,” Gwen said firmly. “We simply wanted to confirm our suspicions, and now we have.”

“It’s perfect.” Poppy sighed, a wistful smile curving her lips. “Simply perfect.”

“Another successful journey completed.” Gwen nodded with satisfaction. “Thanks to us.”

Effie frowned. “We didn’t do anything.”

“One could argue if we hadn’t started the Lady Travelers Society in the first place,” Poppy said slowly, “Derek wouldn’t have had to try to find Lady Heloise and India wouldn’t have insisted on accompanying him.”

“We don’t know exactly what transpired in Paris. They didn’t find Lady Heloise, after all.” Effie paused. “But it does appear to have worked out well.”

“My dear friend, you know as well as I that the end of the road is never as important as the journey taken to get there. The grail is never as important as the quest. And as it is to our credit that my nephew and Miss Prendergast began the quest in the first place, we can legitimately take credit for the outcome.”

“We certainly would have received the blame had it not gone well.” Effie shuddered.

“Exactly.” Gwen nodded with satisfaction. “I believe we can consider the Lady Travelers Society a most successful venture.”

“I know I haven’t had this much fun in years,” Effie said with a thoughtful smile. “I never expected that.”

“Neither did I.” Poppy grinned. “And I must say I feel younger.”

“An added benefit.” Gwen laughed. “And who knows where the next road may lead.” She cast an affectionate smile at these dear women who had been by her side for much of her journey through life and would be until they had all breathed their last.

“And I know I, for one, cannot wait.”

* * * * *

The Proper Way


to Stop a Wedding


(in Seven Days or Less)

Contents



THE BIGINNING

DAY ONE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

DAY TWO

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

DAY THREE

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

DAY FOUR

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DAY FIVE

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DAY SIX

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN






The Beginning



MISS CELIA BROMLEY refused to ruin her half sister Katherine’s wedding.

Even if Celia did not especially like Katherine.

Even if Katherine detested Celia.

Even if Celia had fallen madly, irrevocably, hopelessly in love with Katherine’s groom.






Day One


CHAPTER ONE


Danby Manor, May 1855

“ARE THERE ANY QUESTIONS?” Guinevere Blodgett beamed at her dearest friends in the world. Friends who had set aside everything in their own lives to come to Danby Manor at her request. But then wasn’t that what friends were for?

Mrs. Ophelia Higginbotham and Mrs. Persephone Fitzhew-Wellmore—Effie and Poppy to those who knew them best—traded glances.