The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen

by Victoria Alexander

  “Very well then.” She raised a shoulder in a casual shrug. “It’s a confession.”

  “I see.” He grinned. He was close enough to kiss her again if he was so inclined.

  “And what do you see this time?” Her pulse pounded in her ears.

  “I see a lovely woman who is clever and stubborn and perhaps the most annoying creature I have ever met.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have a confession to make, as well. I said kissing you was a mistake. The mistake was in the time and place.” He lowered his head, his lips close to hers. “Not in the kiss itself.”

  “Then do you intend to kiss me again?” She held her breath.

  “I do.”

  “Now?” The word was little more than an odd sort of squeak.

  “No.” He straightened.

  Her heart plummeted. “I see.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. ‘I see’ is not a good response.”

  “Well, I don’t know how else to respond,” she said sharply, ignoring the overwhelming sense of disappointment and dismay that rushed through her. “I was quite clear about my feelings regarding our previous kissing and my willingness to do so again and you said—”

  “Good God, India, shut up.” He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss hard and fast and utterly intoxicating. Far too quickly he released her and shook his head. “You drive me stark, raving mad.”

  “Do I?” She struggled to catch her breath. “Good.”

  “Furthermore, the next time I kiss you—” his eyes narrowed “—and make no mistake, I fully intend to kiss you again, it will be at a place and time of my choosing. It will not be in a public place, it will not be for luck and it will not be simply to stop your incessant arguing!”

  “Excellent.” She glared at him, but it was extraordinarily difficult to maintain her indignation when all she wanted to do was throw herself back into his arms. “I shall expect nothing less.”

  “Then we are agreed!” He blew a long breath. “You are unlike any woman I have ever met, India Prendergast. You are the most confusing, annoying—”

  “You’ve already mentioned annoying.”

  “It bears repeating.” He shook his head. “Nonetheless, I can think of nothing but you.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then cast him a brilliant smile. “How truly delightful.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “You should know I find you extremely annoying, as well.”

  “Then we are well suited.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Now, I believe you were to meet my mother in the ballroom.”

  “She wanted to arrange the urns I think.”

  “Very well then.” He opened the ballroom doors and ushered her inside.

  The doors were at the top of a short flight of eight or so steps allowing one to see the entire ballroom at a glance upon entering. Huge vases and urns were clustered around the perimeter awaiting the flowers that were to be delivered later today. The room itself was paneled in shades of white adorned with plaster swags and intricate molding. Crystal sconces matched a huge chandelier hanging from a ceiling painted with scenes of the heavens. White marble columns defined galleries along two walls. A balcony hung over the far end, above a series of glass-paned doors leading into the gardens. Every architectural detail was accented and highlighted with gilt. It was so decidedly French and every bit as grand as the very nicest Grand Hotels they’d seen.

  “Ahem.”

  India’s attention jerked toward the sound of a throat being cleared. Lord Westvale, Lord Brookings and Professor Greer stood at the bottom of the steps, off to one side. Derek’s mother was nowhere in sight.

  India’s gaze shifted from the three gentlemen to Derek, who grinned in a satisfied manner.

  “Dare I ask what this is about?” she said cautiously.

  “My mother told me you had never been to a ball.”

  “The opportunity has never presented itself.” Nor had she ever particularly wished to attend a ball.

  “But you do know how to dance?”

  “Of course. Miss Bicklesham’s has excellent instructors.” If she recalled correctly, she had excelled at dancing. Although, admittedly, she’d never danced with a male partner before.

  “No doubt. However, as it has been some time, I thought you might wish for a bit of practice before tomorrow night,” he said in an offhand manner as if this was of no importance at all. But it was. “My stepfather, my brother and the professor have offered to provide you with partners.”

  Lord Westvale stepped forward. “I believe the first dance is mine, Miss Prendergast.”

  “Well?” An uncertain smile played on Derek’s lips.

  “You arranged this,” she said slowly.

  He nodded. “I did.”

  Somehow the man knew she would be apprehensive about attending a ball, about being in a situation she’d never been in before. She would be ill at ease and out of place. And he did what he could to make it easier for her. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

  She leaned close to him and spoke softly into his ear. “You can be shockingly thoughtful, Mr. Saunders.”

  “Do try to keep that in mind, Miss Prendergast,” he said quietly. She could hear the smile in his voice.

  She straightened, then moved down the steps to greet Lord Westvale.

  He offered his arm and escorted her toward the center of the floor. Derek waved in the direction of the balcony, and a moment later, the strains of a sedate waltz played on a violin drifted over the room.

  Surprise caught her breath. “Derek arranged for music?”

  “Derek arranged for everything, my dear.” The marquess took her right hand in his left and placed his other hand lightly on the small of her back. She rested her free hand on his arm below his shoulder. “Ready?”

  “I am.” She forced a light laugh. “I do so love to waltz,” she lied.

  God bless him, his lordship was as thoughtful as his stepson. He steered her around the floor with a gentle hand, guiding and directing her steps. He didn’t so much as wince when she stepped on his toes, and he smoothly saved her from falling when she stumbled over her own.

  “Did you enjoy your shopping excursion with my wife?” his lordship asked pleasantly after she had begun to feel at ease enough to move with the music rather than against it.

  “I’ve never experienced anything quite like it, my lord.”

  He chuckled. “Celia considers shopping something of a cross between art and sport.”

  “She may well be the nicest woman I have ever met.”

  “She speaks highly of you, as well.” He steered her through a simple turn, and she followed with scarcely any effort at all. “She also said you are concerned about her expenditures. You needn’t be. My wife knows the value of the patronage of the Marchioness of Westvale to the merchants she deals with as do they. I am always rather astonished when her bills come in to find they are far less than I would have expected.”

  “That is something of a relief.”

  “It scarcely matters really. My fortune is more than sufficient. I inherited great wealth, and assorted business enterprises have enabled me to increase it. My father would be shocked, of course, to know that I have dabbled in business, but the world has changed since his day.” He paused. “Derek has been assisting his uncle in recent months with the earl’s business pursuits, management of his properties and that sort of thing. I hear he’s doing more than satisfactory. Derek’s inheritance will be quite significant.”

  “So I have heard.”

  “I understand from my wife that Derek’s financial future is of no particular concern to you.”

  “Her ladyship is wrong, my lord.” Fortune aside, she was not right for D
erek, and she did not wish to explain that yet again. Although perhaps in that, too, she was wrong. “I want nothing more than for Derek to receive exactly what he deserves.”

  He studied her. “Are we still speaking of his inheritance?”

  “I can’t imagine what else we would be talking about.” She shrugged and promptly tripped.

  His lordship managed to keep her upright with barely noticeable effort. “I have always thought it beneficial to be able to talk while I dance but perhaps until you are more...”

  “Accomplished?”

  He smiled. “I was going to say confident. At any rate, perhaps we should forgo conversation and concentrate on the steps for now.”

  “I think that is indeed a good idea.” She smiled up at him and tried to concentrate on her feet and the music even though the more she danced, the less she had to think about it.

  Every now and then she would catch sight of Derek with the other men, and her heart would do the oddest things. The effort he’d gone to was most impressive and rather touching. There was far more to the man than she had ever imagined.

  What did Derek deserve? The more she’d grown to know him, the more her opinions had changed. She no longer wanted to see him thrown in prison. And, as he would make right the fraudulent nature of the Lady Travelers Society, that was no longer necessary.

  The music drew to a close. Lord Westvale released her and stepped back. “Excellent effort, Miss Prendergast. Why, a few more turns around the floor and no one will ever suspect you don’t dance every night.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said with a grateful smile.

  “If I might give you one piece of advice.” He leaned close and lowered his voice. “You have a rather strong tendency to try to lead. Most partners are not fond of having to battle for control at every step.”

  She winced. “I shall keep that in mind.”

  He flashed her an encouraging smile, then nodded at the professor waiting to take his place.

  “I quite enjoy dancing, India, but I fear I am not as fine a dancer as his lordship,” the professor said, assuming the correct position.

  “I can’t imagine such a thing.”

  The music began, another waltz, this one a bit more sprightly, and they started off. With every note, more and more of what she’d been taught came back to her. Why, this was actually enjoyable. A realization helped by the fact that Professor Greer’s skill on the dance floor was more comparable to India’s than to Derek’s stepfather. But what he lacked in proficiency, he made up for in enthusiasm.

  The professor cleared his throat. “I am most impressed by the effort Derek went to on your behalf today.”

  “As am I.” India shook her head. “It was very kind of him.”

  “I am well aware that you are not overly fond of him.”

  “On the contrary, Professor. We have forged a firm friendship.”

  “I see.” The professor paused to lead her through a turn. “I have grown quite fond of Derek, as has Estelle. He flirts outrageously with her, you know.”

  “Yes, sir, I have noticed that.”

  “She quite enjoys it.”

  “I have noticed that, as well.” She drew her brows together. “You don’t find it bothersome?”

  “Why should I?”

  “You just said it was outrageous.”

  “Precisely why she adores it.” He chuckled. “I have no concerns as to my wife’s fealty or affections, India. As you are still young, I doubt you will be able to understand this, but when Derek flirts with Estelle, she feels her youth again. There is nothing like the attentions of a dashing, handsome young man to make a woman remember when that was a common occurrence. He understands that, as well. And I am the, oh, how to phrase this delicately, beneficiary, if you will, of her remembrances.”

  India summoned an awkward smile.

  “I do hope I haven’t shocked you.”

  “No, of course not.” She swallowed hard. “Not at all.”

  “One doesn’t spend a lifetime molding the minds of young men without learning a thing or two about them in the process. I consider myself an excellent judge of character. Derek is a good man, India.”

  “You’re certain of that, are you?” She adopted a teasing tone.

  “As certain as experience allows. But I assure you, I cannot recall being in error in my assessment of a man’s nature.” The music faded, and the professor guided her to a halt with a bit of an unexpected flourish. “Even the finest among us makes mistakes, India. Through errors in judgment or even good intentions. You would be wise to remember that.”

  “Thank you, Professor, I shall.”

  “I believe it is my turn.” Lord Brookings’s voice sounded behind her.

  “India.” The professor took her hand and raised it to his lips. “This has been my pleasure. And I fully intend to claim at least one dance tomorrow night.” He placed her hand in Lord Brookings’s, nodded a bow and walked away.

  “I should warn you, Miss Prendergast.” A wicked twinkle shone in Lord Brookings’s eyes. He placed his free hand firmly on her back, glanced in Derek’s direction and the music began. “You have saved the best for last.”

  “Have I, my lord?”

  “Apparently, I shall have to prove it to you. Although, I must say, for a woman who has never been to a ball, you are doing far better than I expected.”

  “I was well taught,” she said in a prim manner, then smiled. “But I will admit, I have had little opportunity to dance since I learned at Miss Bicklesham’s. I thought I’d forgotten everything. I find it reassuring how quickly it has all come back to me.”

  “You may be one of those people to whom it comes easily.”

  “Then I am grateful for that. I would hate to be an embarrassment.” She paused. “I must say, I’d forgotten as well how much I liked dancing.”

  “Then you should do it more often,” he said firmly. “Life is entirely too short not to indulge in those things that bring pleasure. And dancing is perhaps the most innocent among those.”

  “I would never be so bold or so foolish as to ask what else brings you pleasure, my lord.”

  “Why, Miss Prendergast.” He stared down at her. “I do believe you are flirting with me.”

  “On the contrary, Lord Brookings—”

  His brow shot upward.

  “Percy.” She laughed. “I have never flirted in my entire life.”

  “It appears, under the appropriate circumstances, that comes easily to you, as well.” He led her through a quick turn and she followed him with relative ease. “Excellent, Miss Prendergast. You are doing extremely well.”

  “I am quite enjoying it.”

  “Derek thought you might.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “My brother went to a great deal of trouble to arrange this for you.”

  “It was extremely thoughtful of him.”

  “He can be quite thoughtful, even when one least expects it. He always has been,” he added in an offhand manner. “Although I can’t imagine he would have done all this for anyone else.”

  “Only me?” she said lightly.

  “Only you.” His gaze met hers, and she nearly stumbled at the honesty in his eyes.

  At once the truth hit her. These men weren’t merely helping her dance; they were laying out a case in Derek’s favor. Regaling her with his good points. It was a concerted effort to—what? Win her over? The idea that Derek had asked these men to not only dance with her but make mention of his virtues was an outrage, and she should be furious. But the fact that he had gone to all this trouble so that she might see him in a better light was most endearing. How could she possibly be annoyed with him for that?

  “The lady who captures his heart will be a lucky creature indeed.” Sincerity colored his words. “No woman could ever do b
etter. He will spend the rest of his life making her happy.

  She stared up at him. “I have no idea what to say to that.”

  “Say nothing, Miss Prendergast.” He smiled and executed a quick spin. “Simply remember it.”

  The tempo of the music increased and the rest of the dance was spent in a thoughtful silence. At least on India’s part. His lordship was no doubt letting her dwell on his comment, beast of a man that he was.

  “Miss Prendergast, I look forward to our next dance,” he said when the music had ended. “Now, unfortunately, I must relinquish you to my brother.” Derek stepped up beside him. Lord Brookings cast him a pitying look. “Not as accomplished a dancer, not as handsome or as clever but not totally objectionable.”

  “Ah, brother.” Derek shook his head in a mournful manner. “The fictional world you live in must be a strange and lonely place.”

  “Strange perhaps.” A knowing grin curved his lips. “But never lonely.” He nodded, turned and strode across the floor.

  “Miss Prendergast,” Derek began, “may I have the honor of this dance?”

  “I’m not sure another dance is necessary, Mr. Saunders.” She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “I feel quite confident now, and your mother will be wondering where I have disappeared to.”

  “My mother will be wondering no such thing, and another dance is always necessary.” He signaled to the violinist, and the music started once again.

  “Still...” She shook her head even as she moved into his arms. “I don’t know...”

  “Trust me, Miss Prendergast.” He gazed down at her, held her a bit more tightly than was proper and moved to the music.

  “I do, Mr. Saunders.” Her throat tightened. “I do.”

  He smiled, his eyes shining with something unknown, something extraordinary. Shivers raced up her spine. “Then you feel more comfortable, about the ball, that is?”

  “Yes, I believe I do. Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  They moved together effortlessly, and she suspected he was making accommodations for her because they couldn’t possibly dance this well together. As if their feet were barely touching the floor.