The Lady Travelers Guide to Happily Ever After

by Alexander, Victoria

  “What utter nonsense. Numbers are numbers. They do not ebb and flow.”

  “Perhaps not in England. Such a stuffy country.” He shuddered. “But this is France. Today your money is gone. Tomorrow is yet to be determined.”

  Any hope she’d felt a moment ago vanished, and she huffed. “I’ve never known you to be quite so annoying.”

  He chuckled. “Then you have not paid attention.”

  “About so many things,” she said under her breath.

  It was pointless to argue. For good or ill, she’d followed Uncle Richard’s advice and turned the trust he’d provided for her over to the comte on her first visit to France. He’d said his old friend was brilliant at managing money and had in fact built his fortune from the pittance his father had escaped to England with during the revolution.

  Regardless of the current state of her finances, she could not regret putting the management of her funds in the comte’s hands. While her upbringing had prepared her to be an excellent hostess and wife, her education regarding anything of a financial nature beyond basic household management had been sadly lacking. Women were not expected to manage their own funds, after all. She’d never given her deficient education any particular thought before. Rather stupid, as it turned out.

  Although it might have made no real difference. Violet had no particular head for numbers. In the years of their travels, Cleo—who was not hindered by the elite education Violet had received—handled their funds and was indeed excellent at it. She hadn’t told Cleo about her financial problems yet. Perhaps Cleo could figure out what had happened to her money.

  “I assume there are account statements? Records of some sort?”

  “Of course. I send you an accounting every year.”

  “Yes, I know.” She did wish she’d done more than merely glance at them in passing but they made no sense to her. Nor did she need to pay more attention. The allowance and traveling expenses she’d received from James were more than sufficient for her needs. Her trust was a reserve against an uncertain future. “I am simply trying to understand—”

  He gasped in a show of apparent dismay. “You do not trust me, dear Violet? You think I have absconded with your money?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said quickly. “My apologies if I allowed you to think, even for a moment, that I did not trust you. I have always trusted you and I always will. But I’m terribly confused and I just don’t understand.” She sighed. “It’s time, past time really, that I paid more attention to such matters.”

  He reached out and patted her hand. “I shall provide you whatever papers you deem necessary before you leave Paris. My heart would shatter if you thought me unworthy of your trust.”

  “I don’t. Not for a moment. I didn’t mean. Oh, I am sorry.” Good Lord, she was sputtering. She never sputtered. Nor did she ever lose her composure. No doubt this could be blamed on James. Nothing about her had been the same since Uncle Richard had planted her husband back in her life.

  “A misunderstanding. Nothing more than that.” He waved off her comment and his gaze slipped to a point behind her. “Ah, I see we have a newcomer. Looking for you, no doubt.”

  She turned and caught her breath. James? Her husband and the comtesse were making their way toward them. The man had actually followed her to France. Her heart fluttered. Blasted heart. No doubt his presence had more to do with his inheritance than anything else.

  “He is not as handsome as I remember.”

  “Nonsense.” James had any number of flaws, but his appearance was not one of them. “He is one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met.”

  “You defend him.” Gerard raised a brow. “How very interesting.”

  “Not at all.” She shrugged. “Simply a statement of fact.” She drew her brows together. “What do you mean—as you remember? I thought you hadn’t met James.”

  “Only once and so briefly I would be astonished if he remembered.” He met her gaze. “Six years ago, Julienne and I were among those in attendance at his engagement ball.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. “I didn’t see you.”

  He chuckled. “There were a great many people there.”

  She shook her head. “You never said a word.”

  “What would be the point?” He shrugged. “It would only have made you uncomfortable.”

  “Perhaps.” There was no perhaps about it. If Violet had known Gerard and Julienne had been witness to her humiliation, she would have been entirely too self-conscious to reside with them or stay in Paris at all, for that matter. But they’d welcomed her, and Cleo as well, into their lives, providing a refuge after she’d fled London.

  “Richard sent you to me.”

  “To manage my finances,” she said slowly.

  “To be of help with your finances and anything else you needed,” he said gently.

  And the comte and comtesse had indeed been a great help. By the time she left Paris she’d been well on her way to becoming the woman she was now. They had guided her through endless social events, encouraging her to savor the charm of life in the French capital, urging her to speak her mind and stand up for herself. Gerard instilled in her a greater appreciation of music and art and history. Julienne subtly instructed her in the fine arts of flirtation and conversation, and how to balance being true to herself with making others feel important.

  “Were you ever going to tell me this?”

  “I did not keep it from you, my dear Violet. You never asked and I never thought to mention it.” He smiled. “Was it necessary to know Richard guided you to us?”

  “No.” She shook her head. Richard’s hand in her life had been far greater than she knew. She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. Regardless, it scarcely mattered now. She returned the older man’s smile. “I suppose it wasn’t.”

  “Look who has come to join us,” the comtesse said in French. “My dear, I think you have misjudged him.”

  “Oh, I doubt it,” Violet replied in French. She turned to James. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have no idea what you just said.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips, his gaze locking with hers. “But it sounded delightful.”

  A shiver ran through her at his touch. “What do you mean you have no idea?”

  The comtesse leaned toward Violet. “He does not speak French.” She cast James an approving look. “Other than that, I find him quite charming.”

  Violet switched to English. “You don’t speak French?”

  “Aside from one completely useless phrase, I’m afraid not.” James grimaced. “The price of a misspent youth.”

  “Then it is fortunate we speak English, although I have always found it an awkward language.” Gerard frowned as if the difficulties of the English language could be laid squarely at James’s feet.

  “I shall have speak to the queen about that,” James said with a smile.

  Violet resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the ceiling.

  “Ah, very amusing, Lord Ellsworth.” The comte chuckled. “Unless you really do know your Queen Victoria, although I doubt even she can do anything about your language.”

  “I don’t believe her authority extends to syntax, my lord.”

  “Pity.” Gerard studied James for a moment. “For more than fifty years, your uncle and I corresponded regularly. He found you most amusing.”

  James grinned. “I know.”

  “While it scarcely seems necessary,” Violet began, “allow me to introduce you. This is my husband, the Earl of Ellsworth. James, this is the Comte de Viviers.”

  “I have always wanted to meet—” James’s glance slipped to Violet and back “—a French count.”

  A French count? Of course, she realized, the rumors.

  “Thus showing a complete lack of ambition,” Gerard said coolly.

  Violet winced
to herself. She should have known the comte might not have the best opinion of James.

  “I have not always been the man my uncle wished me to be.” James met the comte’s gaze directly.

  The comte’s gaze hardened. “And are you now?”

  “I’m not sure a man can ever live up to the expectations set for him.” James’s words were measured and unquestionably sincere. “He can only try.”

  “Très bon,” Julienne murmured.

  Very good indeed.

  The comte considered him for a long moment. Violet would have been hard-pressed not to squirm under such scrutiny but James didn’t so much as flinch. His demeanor was both impressive and admirable. An unexpected sense of pride surged through her. This was a man a woman could be proud of. Who would have ever imagined such a thing.

  At last Gerard nodded. “Perhaps you will do.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I assume you are here to speak to your wife.”

  “I intend to dance with her first.” James turned to Violet. “If she would do me the honor.”

  “How could I possibly say no?” Although she would have much preferred not to dance with him. Or talk to him. Or do anything but scream all the things she’d been thinking since she walked out of the parlor yesterday. A waltz began, and he took her in his arms, entirely too close for propriety, at least in England. She tried to put a bit more distance between them, but he held her firmly and she surrendered. “Why are you here?”

  “You asked me to come.”

  “You said no.”

  “On the contrary, I said I couldn’t come yesterday,” he said smoothly, the tiniest gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “I do have responsibilities, you know. I simply can’t drop everything and dash off to Paris. I gave up acting on impulse some time ago. Arrangements needed to be made and so I made them.” He shrugged. “It put me no more than a day behind you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to, James?”

  “You wound me deeply, Violet.” He sighed. “I am here because you are here and I cannot bear even a day without you.”

  She raised a disbelieving brow.

  “You wanted me to follow you and so I did.” He grinned and led her through a turn.

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “Nor should you, at least at the moment. But I have every intention of earning your trust. And your forgiveness.”

  “Oh?”

  “I cannot change the past, Violet, I can only atone for it.” He smiled and pulled her tighter against him, leaning close to murmur into her ear. “Regardless, you did not win this round, my dear.”

  She nearly stumbled at his words. “What are you talking about?”

  “This game we are now playing,” he said in an offhand manner, as if he were commenting on nothing more important than the weather. “Your escapade across Europe. My having to prove something.”

  A game? He thought this was a game? This wasn’t a game—the rest of their lives were at stake.

  James executed a complicated step, and she followed him without pause. Still, Violet had always rather liked games and she was quite good at them. Exceptionally good, really. And hadn’t Uncle Richard helped her hone her skills at chess? She was rather more competitive than was appropriate for a woman. Yet another trait she didn’t discover until after her marriage. If a game was what James wanted, she was more than willing to play, but by her rules. “I didn’t realize this was a game.”

  “Of course you did.” He chuckled. “And so I give up.”

  “You said you won this round.”

  “Ah, but in surrender, I win. You wanted to go to Paris. I did not and yet here I am.” The music came to an end and they slowed to a stop. He gazed down at her, his smile entirely too smug. “So I shall be by your side every minute. In Paris and wherever else you wish to go.”

  “Wherever?” She tilted her head and considered him. “You said you had no desire to travel.”

  “I find traveling inconvenient and uncomfortable. However, as I have very little experience with it, I have reconsidered. I admit that I might possibly be wrong.” Something that looked annoyingly like triumph shone in his eyes. “I can now see there might be certain benefits. Educational opportunities, the broadening of one’s horizons, that sort of thing. And you would be the first to say my horizons could use broadening.”

  “Indeed.” Apparently, the game had begun. “My, this is a change of heart.”

  “Atonement is not easy.”

  “Nor should it be.” She smiled pleasantly. “Although I should tell you I had nearly decided to return to England once my business here was concluded.”

  “Excellent.” He grinned with obvious relief. “Then we can return home tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She scoffed. “My concern was about the stipulation that we not be apart for more than fourteen days. I left without giving it due consideration. It was quite thoughtless on my part. But now that you’ve joined me—” she beamed “—I see no reason why we can’t continue on.”

  “Continue on?” he said slowly.

  “Goodness, James, surely you didn’t think your vow to be by my side every minute would make me want to scurry home to England?”

  “No, not for a moment.”

  “Unless you didn’t mean it.” She widened her eyes in an innocent manner. “Unless you were simply grasping at straws in yet another one of those carpe diem moments?”

  “I meant every word I said,” he said staunchly.

  Traveling on to Italy and Greece really was an excellent idea. Since his revelation about the incident, it felt very much as if they were starting from the beginning. Being away from London would be a reprieve of sorts, and give them both time to reconcile their differences or decide what they wanted beyond the next three years. Was she willing to give up the life of adventure and freedom she’d had since her marriage and remain in England, with James, for the rest of her life? Was he interested only in his inheritance or was she what he really wanted?

  “You mentioned Florence and Athens to Mrs. Higginbotham and her friends.”

  She nodded, took his arm, and they moved off the dance floor. “Did you visit Italy and Greece on that grand tour of yours?”

  “We did not travel to Greece but we did spend some time in Rome as well as Florence. However, it was a long time ago,” he added quickly. “I barely remember it at all.”

  From what she knew about the grand tours of young men, the spirits consumed and James’s frolic-filled past, she wasn’t at all surprised. “Then this will be enjoyable for you. The only thing better than one’s first visit to Florence is returning. As for Athens...” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “One can almost feel the presence of the ancients in the very air one breathes.”

  “Sounds delightful.” The look in his eye belied his words. The man really wasn’t fond of travel.

  “And when the moon lights the marble of the Parthenon, it’s quite the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Is it?” he said thoughtfully, then smiled. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  She wasn’t sure she liked that decidedly wicked smile. Nonetheless, she returned it. “And I can’t wait to show it to you.”

  “When do we leave?”

  “I shall speak to Cleo about making arrangements. I have an errand to see to in the morning but, depending on the train schedules, we can probably be on our way by early evening.” It would take at least two days by train to reach Florence from Paris. Violet would have to check with Cleo, but by her calculations, they would reach Florence with a day or two to spare.

  “I thought perhaps we could stay another day and you could show me Paris.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “You wish to see Paris?”

  “Not especially. I was here once before but I recall little of the important sights.
I thought you’d like to point out how well traveled and knowledgeable you are and how ignorant and provincial I am.”

  “Oh, well, when you put it that way.” She smiled. “That does sound like fun, but we only have the afternoon. There is a gathering in Florence I promised to attend and we do need to be on our way. However, I would be happy to show you how ignorant and provincial you are in Florence.”

  “Florence it is then. One more thing.” He placed his hand over hers still on his arm. “Will we be staying here tonight or will you be joining me at my hotel?”

  She tugged at her hand, but he held it fast. “I have no intention of staying anywhere but here.”

  “Very well.” He nodded. “Then I shall join you.”

  “Why would you join me?”

  “Fourteen days, remember?” He frowned. “Or fourteen nights, I suppose. Regardless, we have already squandered one of them. I should hate to lose any more.”

  He did have a point. Even so, she was willing to squander another night. “I hadn’t planned—”

  “Perhaps you misunderstood when I said I intended to spend every minute with you.” He smiled in an overly agreeable manner. “If you prefer to stay here, I’m certain the comtesse can find a room for me. She seemed to like me.”

  “She likes everyone,” Violet said sharply. The last thing she wanted right now was to be under the same roof with her husband. His unexpected appearance gave her a great deal to think about. She forced a note of calm. “There are numerous guests staying here, relations and friends. I daresay there are no available rooms.”

  “Then I shall have to sleep on the floor outside your room. Surely there’s a spare blanket to be found.”

  She yanked her hand free. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, but I would.” A hard note colored his words “Every minute, Violet.”

  “If you expect me to share your hotel room—”

  “Suite. My hotel suite.” He shrugged in surrender. “It has two bedrooms.”

  “Confident, weren’t you?”

  He smirked. “Yes.”

  “And Cleo?”

  “I arranged a room for her, as well.”