He pulled up short. “My what?”
The street ended in a huge, open rectangular plaza. The obelisk was centered between two enormous iron fountains colored black and green. Water droplets sparkled in the sunlight and danced over gilded accents. Precisely aligned lampposts outlined the border between the pavement and the street and statues marked the corners. The park Derek had insisted they walk through a few days ago lay beyond the square. “Is this it then? The Place de la Concorde? The true center of Paris?”
“Yes, yes.” Impatience rang in his voice. “What—”
“Isn’t this where the guillotine—”
“Yes,” he snapped. “And as gratified as I am to know that you’ve listened to something I’ve said, this is not the time. What involvement? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t be absurd—of course you do.” She glanced from side to side. “You can certainly see everything from here, can’t you? A bridge over the Seine on the right and the arch behind us. Why you can even see that dreadful tower.”
“India.” A warning sounded in his voice.
“My, my Derek, which of us doesn’t wish to see Paris now?” she said pleasantly. It was rather nice annoying him for a change. Still, perhaps it was time. “I’m talking about the fact that the Lady Travelers Society is a fraud. You’re taking funds for the arrangement of travel without the slightest ability to do so. It’s a sham designed to do nothing more than put money in the pockets of the man behind it.” She met his gaze directly. “The man hiding behind three sweet elderly ladies.”
“The man...” His eyes widened with realization. His voice rose. “You mean me?”
“Yes, I mean you. Who else could I possibly mean? I assume you are in this scheme alone.” She frowned. “Unless there is someone else involved?”
“No.” He shook his head, a stunned look on his face. She’d seen the very same expression on the face of one of her young charges during her brief, ill-fated period as a governess when the devil child had been caught adding pepper to his sister’s porridge. “There’s no one else.”
“Excellent.” She nodded. “Otherwise this would be most awkward.”
“Awkward?”
“In detective novels I have read when one miscreant decides to mend his wicked ways, a partner is not always willing to do so. It can then be quite unpleasant.”
“In detective novels.” He paused. “Which are works of fiction.”
“True, but they claim to be based on realistic events. I see no reason not to believe that.”
“No reason whatsoever except they are fiction,” he said. “What makes you think I am willing to mend my wicked ways?”
She wasn’t sure what to say now that he’d admitted his fraudulent activities. How did one convince a man to abandon a moneymaking scheme? None of the detective novels she had read dealt with that particular question. Scoundrels rarely repented unless they were caught and even then were never truly sincere. “Aren’t you?”
He took her elbow and steered her to a nearby bench. “Now then, why do you think I am willing to change? You noted that the Lady Travelers Society is extremely profitable.”
She settled on the bench and positioned her parasol to block the sun. “And you said you were reforming.”
“I was not referring to this.”
“Goodness, Derek, one can’t reform partially. One can’t pick and choose which part of one’s life in which to do better.”
“On the contrary, India.” He smiled. “One can do exactly that.”
She widened her eyes. “This is not some foolish lark you’re engaged in. This is wrong, morally, legally wrong. And think of the scandal, Derek. For the future Earl of Danby to be arrested for fraudulent activities, why, that’s a far cry from a silly, drunken prank.” She leaned forward and met his gaze firmly. “As your friend, it’s my duty to point that out as well as assist you in mending your wicked ways.”
“And if I wish to continue my wicked ways? At least the profitable ones?”
“Then I shall employ every resource possible to see you receive what you deserve.”
“So much for friendship.”
“Sarcasm, Derek, is ill advised at the moment.” She glared at him. “I don’t think you’re treating this with the gravity it merits. I would hate to see you end up in prison or...or worse.”
He raised a brow. “Worse than prison?”
“Infinitely worse.” As the daughter of missionaries, India considered herself a good Christian. Admittedly, she had never been concerned with the trappings of religion, firmly believing Sunday services should be reserved for those whose souls were in need of redemption. Hers was not, although Derek’s obviously was. “Eternal damnation.” She raised her chin. “Hell if you will.”
He chuckled. “I suspect I will know a great many people there.”
“No doubt,” she said sharply. “But hell is surely where you are headed.”
“You would hate to see that, would you?”
She heaved a resigned sigh. “Apparently.”
“As would I.” He stared at her for a long moment. “I shall make you a deal, India. I have already put a stop to additional memberships, but there’s nothing more I can do until we return to London. Until then, I will give you every opportunity to convince me to abandon the immoral, illegal and yet highly profitable path you believe I am on that will surely lead to incarceration and the fires of hell. Reform me, India—save me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and trapped her gaze with his. “If you can.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“OH, I HAVE no doubt of it.” India nodded and idly twirled her parasol. “And I am certain you will come to believe, eventually, that this is the best course.”
“We shall see,” Derek said with a confident smile.
He’d been accused of many things before but never of fleecing women out of their savings. Still, as long as India thought he was behind the Lady Travelers Society she would not turn her attention toward his great-aunt and the other ladies. This was nothing more than a guess on her part. She had no real proof of his guilt, and no real proof of the fraudulent nature of the Lady Travelers Society. Even the misplacing of Lady Heloise could be attributed to incompetence rather than outright fraud. He stifled a grin at the thought of how indignant Aunt Guinevere and her cohorts would be if they knew India thought they were nothing more than innocent pawns in his game of deceit.
“Dare I ask what happens if you fail?” he asked.
“I have no intention of failing. Your freedom and your immortal soul are at stake.”
“Still, if you do...” He sat on the bench beside her and heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m the one to suffer the consequences. You face no penalty at all but are free to go on your merry way.”
“But I shall feel badly about it.” She thought for a moment. “Quite badly. I imagine seeing you go to prison or knowing you will burn forever in the fires of hell—” he winced “—will also provoke a great deal of guilt.” She grimaced. “As I have taken the responsibility for your salvation upon myself.”
“Scant comfort, knowing you feel badly or guilty.” He shook his head in a mournful manner. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“It seems perfectly fair to me as I am not the one whose wicked ways need mending. The world is not fair, Derek. Surely you know that.”
“Even so, it does seem to me that you should face some sort of penalty for failure.”
“I have already said I will feel quite badly should I fail.” She pressed her lips together. “I am not fond of failure nor do I intend to experience it in this particular instance.”
“My immortal soul thanks you.”
“Derek, I don’t think—”
“I think it is past time to find a café.” He stood and offered his
hand to help her up. “If we are to discuss my dire fate should your efforts at reformation fail—”
“Which they won’t,” she said firmly, rising to her feet.
“Then I would prefer to do so with a plate of excellent food before me and a glass of wine in my hand.” He escorted her to the street.
“Very well.” She paused. “I am possibly a bit hungry myself.”
“Obviously the price one pays for taking on a project of this magnitude.” He hailed a cab, assisted her up and directed the driver to a café Val had recommended.
“I’m not sure it’s quite that bad...”
By the time they reached their destination on the other side of the Pont Neuf bridge over the barge-laden Seine, ordered their meal and had glasses of wine in front of them, Derek had—if not an actual plan—then certainly an excellent idea.
“I have been giving your resolve to reform me a fair amount of consideration.”
“I assumed as much as you have been extraordinarily quiet.”
“There is a great deal to consider.” He searched for the right words. “As we are agreed that, should you fail, the only one who truly suffers is me.”
She opened her mouth to protest, and he held out his hand to stop her.
“Yes, yes, I know you will feel badly—”
“Very badly.”
“Very badly then, which will be of no comfort to me if I am in prison or broiling in eternal flames.”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure that can be helped.”
“Therefore, while I have already agreed to allow you to try to convince me of the need to change my path to incarceration or damnation—in this life or the next—I should have some say in how you intend to proceed.”
Her brows drew together. “What do you mean?”
“Well, do you have a plan in mind as to how to rescue me?”
“Not a plan exactly—it has only just today occurred to me that you can be saved.” She thought for a moment. “However, for one thing, merely being in the company of a woman who is not the type of woman you are usually with should have something of an influence on you.”
“You intend to be a good influence?”
“I already am a good influence.”
“You were very nearly the cause of my being beaten senseless in the streets of Montmartre.”
“Yes, but that was in pursuit of a good deed,” she said in a lofty manner. Apparently, the more dangerous aspects of that evening had faded in favor of the ultimate goal.
“I see. And please, do tell me what kind of woman I am usually with.”
“You know full well what kind of woman.” She sniffed.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” He smiled pleasantly and sipped his wine. “Enlighten me, if you will.”
“Very well.” She paused. “A man of your position is expected to find a wife of a similar level of society. The female equivalent of yourself, if you will.”
“Good Lord, I hope not,” he said mildly.
She ignored him. “These are the types of women I went to school with. They are concerned only with the social season, their next gown and the next ball. They delight in gossip, regardless of whether it’s true or not—and have no concern for anyone they do not consider worthy, up to their social standards, if you will. They are not stupid by any means but do not engage in pursuits of an intellectual nature for fear allowing anyone to know they are intelligent will somehow detract from their worth. They occupy their time with frivolous activities, change their ensembles numerous times a day, treat servants as if they were less than human and—should they engage in charitable activities—do so only for the sake of appearance.” She took a sip of wine. “Appearance, you know, is everything.”
He stared. “And this is the kind of woman you think I should marry?”
“I didn’t say that, Derek. I said this is the kind of woman you are expected to marry.”
“Perhaps before you save my soul you should save me from that.” It did sound like a fate worse than eternal damnation.
“I’m afraid your destiny is sealed. You are to be an earl, and that is the kind of woman suitable to be a countess.”
“Shallow, insipid, self-centered, devious and cruel?”
“Take heart, Derek.” Her eyes twinkled in a way that could only be called wicked. “They spend a great deal of time and money on their appearance, and they are hardly ever truly ugly.”
“Yes, that is something to cling to,” he muttered. India must have hated her years at Miss Bicklesham’s if this was the kind of girl she’d met there. Although, while overly harsh, her assessment was not entirely inaccurate. “However, that particular aspect of my future is not the current point of discussion. We were talking about what you stand to lose if you fail.”
“I won’t.”
He ignored her. “By the time we conclude our efforts today, we will only have seven Grand Hotels remaining. I anticipate another day and a half or so to visit the rest unless, of course, we find Lady Heloise. Barring that, we shall then have to consider our next step.”
She nodded.
“However, while I have agreed to allow you to convince me to abandon a, as you continue to point out, very profitable enterprise—”
“A swindle.”
“And we have both acknowledged my penalty should you fail will be much greater than your own—”
“I expect the guilt to be substantial.”
“Then I have a few conditions, terms, if you will.”
Suspicion flashed in her eyes. “What kind of conditions?”
“I think, at the very least, you should allow me to show you the sights of Paris.”
“I believe you have been showing me the sights of Paris.”
“Pointing out places of interest from a cab, a few minutes in a park and a stroll down an avenue is scarcely showing you the sights.”
“But we are here to search for Heloise, nothing more. When we finish with the hotels—”
“There are other places we should inquire at. Places Lady Heloise would have visited.”
“I was given to understand the professor and his wife had taken that upon themselves.”
“They have but there are a great many places to see in Paris. Why, the Louvre alone will take days. While I have every confidence in Frederick and Estelle, it does seem to me she is far more interested in seeing Paris and shopping than finding Lady Heloise and he is attempting to rediscover the Paris of his youth.”
She sighed. “You do have a point I suppose—”
“Allowing me to show you Paris will give us the opportunity to add our inquiries to the Greers, lessening the chances that they missed something important and increasing the possibilities of finding Lady Heloise.”
“Perhaps.”
“In no more than two days, we will have completed querying the twenty-seven Grand Hotels listed in the guidebook.”
“Then what? Should we leave Paris for the next city on Heloise’s itinerary? I believe that’s Lyon.”
“Oh, I think leaving Paris is ill advised.”
He might have been mistaken, but he could have sworn a look of relief passed over her face. It vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Do you?”
“I do.” He nodded. “First of all, Lady Heloise’s last letters were from Paris.”
“Yes, but—”
“Secondly, your best chance of recovering your lost trunk is to stay in Paris. When it’s found, this is where it will be brought.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she murmured. “Still, if we have exhausted our efforts here—”
“Oh, but we haven’t.” He pulled out his notebook. “It struck me that your cousin’s use of the word grand might have nothing to do with the name of the hotel. Therefore, it seemed expedien
t to compile a list of the hotels in Paris that cater primarily to English visitors.”
She stared at him. “Why didn’t you think of that sooner?”
“The point is that I have thought of it now.” He passed the notebook to her.
She scanned the list. “Perhaps it would be wise to abandon the Grand Hotels altogether in favor of these.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said quickly although she couldn’t possibly be as weary of the endless list of Grand Hotels as he was. “We need to stay the course we’ve begun. It would be inefficient to do otherwise.” He shook his head. “She could very well be at the next hotel we call on. Or there could be some record of her. Haphazard is not the way to conduct a search, India.”
“I wasn’t suggesting—”
“However, when we have at last made our way through the Grand Hotels, I wish to take a respite from our search. I have no intention of leaving Paris without seeing the exposition.” He took a sip of wine. “It’s my understanding that it is a spectacle of progress and mankind’s accomplishments as well as a taste of cultures far different from our own. We can visit the markets of Cairo and a Japanese village. And the entire city is talking about the American Wild West show. I would hate to miss that. The world has come to Paris and—through no fault of our own—so have we. I like to think of it as fate.”
“I sincerely doubt—”
“This is the sort of thing that only comes along once in a lifetime.”
“And this is a sight of Paris you wish to show me?”
“It’s the newest sight of Paris and where I wish to begin. Besides, I would be derelict in my duties as your friend if I allowed you to miss it.” He studied her for a moment. She didn’t look especially interested, but she wasn’t protesting, either. At least not yet. “I first visited Paris as a boy, and I’ve been here a number of other times. And while I do want to reacquaint myself with those places in the city that have attracted visitors for centuries, I don’t want to fail to see what—according to the papers—thousands of foreign visitors are flocking to. Why, the Gallery of Machines alone is worth the effort.”
The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen Page 20