The Lady Travelers Guide to Larceny With a Dashing Stranger

by Victoria Alexander

  Willie sent Dante and the others on ahead to the opera, saying she had a bit of a headache and might join them later. She then settled in a chair in the lobby, half-hidden behind a palm with an excellent view of the lifts and the doors to the street.

  She didn’t have to wait long. Barely a quarter of an hour after the opera was scheduled to begin, the girls appeared dressed for an evening out. Willie rose, skirted the perimeter of the busy lobby and stepped into view directly in front of the doors just as the girls approached.

  Emma and Tillie gasped in surprise. Frustration and annoyance crossed Harriet’s face and Geneva adopted an appropriate expression of alarm.

  “Good evening, ladies,” Willie said pleasantly. “I’m so glad you decided to join us at the opera after all.”

  “We would have been there sooner,” Tillie began, “but we were reading.”

  “Fortunately,” Emma continued, “we are far faster readers than we expected and we finished our books.” She beamed with questionable pride.

  “Your mothers will be pleased to see you.” Willie smiled pleasantly. “And since the opera is scarcely a stone’s throw from the hotel, we shall be there in time for the second act. Why, you will scarcely have missed anything at all.”

  The girls exchanged guarded looks. Oh, this was going to be far more difficult than Willie had imagined.

  “I am sorry, Lady Bascombe.” Harriet raised her chin in a defiant manner. “But we’re not going to the opera, any of us.”

  “No?” Willie kept a pleasant smile on her face.

  “No,” Harriet said firmly. “We are going to a new music hall in Montmartre that is supposed to be quite a lot of fun.”

  “It just opened this month,” Geneva said. “It’s called the Moulin Rouge and we’ve heard it’s quite exciting.”

  Tillie nodded. “It has a giant elephant in the garden—”

  “But the building looks like a windmill,” Emma added. “There’s nothing like it in New York.”

  “It does sound delightful.” Willie’s gaze met Harriet’s who was obviously the leader of this band of rebels. “I’m sure your mothers will enjoy it.”

  Harriet paled but held her ground. “Mother is at the opera.”

  “Oh, but the opera is right next door. I suspect your mothers won’t mind abandoning the performance for something like this. And I can’t imagine anything more enjoyable than a music hall that looks like a windmill with a giant elephant in the garden. Can you?” Willie glanced at the other girls. “Any of you?”

  For a moment, it was as if they all held their breaths.

  “Upon further consideration,” Emma said cautiously, “I’m not certain that I have actually finished my book. I believe there might have been another chapter or so that I may have overlooked.”

  “And I really should write some letters home,” Geneva said.

  “No need to mention this to our mothers.” Tillie uttered a half-hearted laugh. “It would only upset them.”

  “That they had missed such a lovely time, that is,” Emma added quickly. “We would hate to cause them any distress.”

  “Are you all cowards?” Harriet glared at the others who refused to meet her gaze.

  “So it would appear,” Geneva said under her breath.

  “Come now, I can’t go by myself.” A pleading note sounded in Harriet’s voice.”

  “Sorry.” Emma shrugged. She and her sister edged toward the lifts. “Maybe another time.”

  Geneva forced an exaggerated yawn. “And I find I am really exhausted. It just struck me,” she added weakly. “Sorry.” She nodded at the Americans and they all headed toward the lifts.

  “How could you?” Harriet glared.

  Willie grabbed her elbow and steered her to a more private alcove.

  “I thought you of all people would understand. I know all about you and your reputation.”

  “Most people do,” Willie muttered and released Harriet’s arm. “It’s never been a secret.”

  “This is exactly the sort of thing you would have done when you were my age!”

  “Pity I didn’t have the opportunity to go to Paris when I was your age.” She pinned Harriet with a hard look. “Because you’re right. This is exactly what I would have done.”

  “And I think—”

  “Which is why I cannot allow you to do it. For goodness’ sake, Harriet, you have no idea what might happen at this music hall. It doesn’t sound like the type of place your mother or your uncle would approve of and, yes, I realize that is part and parcel of its appeal.” Willie struggled to keep her voice level when she would have much preferred to yell at the top of her lungs. What was the girl thinking? “You know better than this. No proper young lady goes anywhere by herself. At night! In Paris!”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Or in the company of other young ladies. You’re not chaperoned. You’re not accompanied by anyone. You’re not—”

  “You’re not my mother,” Harriet said with a smug smile. “You cannot forbid me to do anything.”

  “No.” Willie chose her words with care. “I am not your mother. But you are part of my group of travelers. What happens to this group is my responsibility and I refuse to shirk it. As long as you remain a part of this tour, that includes you.”

  “Then I shall leave the tour,” Harriet said in a lofty manner.

  “That can certainly be arranged.” Willie adopted an offhand tone. “You have money, I assume? Traveling on one’s own can be quite costly. Or perhaps you plan to ask your mother to support your independent travel?”

  Harriet raised her chin in a defiant manner. “Never!”

  “Then your uncle Dante perhaps?”

  “I don’t need Uncle Dante’s money, nor do I need my mother’s. Ber—” Harriet’s eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut.

  “Please go on.” And didn’t that just confirm Rosalind’s suspicions? Apparently, the disreputable Mr. Goodwin was indeed in the vicinity. No doubt awaiting Harriet even now in a garden with an elephant. “You were saying?”

  Panic shone in Harriet’s eyes.

  “About funding your continued travel?”

  “He’s not interested in you, you know,” Harriet said abruptly.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Uncle Dante. He’s not interested in you.”

  “How clever of you, Harriet.” Willie clapped her hands together in approval. “To change the subject so thoroughly. I’m very impressed.”

  Harriet shrugged. “Which does not negate the truth of what I said.”

  “Your uncle and I have become friends,” Willie said slowly. “There is nothing more to it than that.”

  “Friends?” Her brow rose. There was a wicked gleam in Harriet’s eyes. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Perhaps you will think differently when you know why he—”

  “Finished with your book, Harriet?” Dante appeared beside his niece, his tone harder than perhaps necessary, although he no doubt understood the situation at once.

  “Of course, Uncle,” Harriet said with a polite smile. “I had intended to join you at the opera but now I find I am really quite tired. I’ll retire now, if that is acceptable,” she added in an overly sweet manner.

  “Sleep well, dear.” Dante’s pleasant tone and smile matched the girl’s.

  “I didn’t see you arrive. How much did you hear?” Willie said quietly. She directed her words at him but her gaze stayed on Harriet and would remain so until the girl was safely in the lift.

  “Enough, I suspect.” Dante too kept his gaze on his niece. “I arrived just as the other girls were fleeing for their lives.”

  “As well they should. Goodness, Dante, can you imagine such a thing? Going off to a
music hall? By themselves? At night? In Paris?”

  Harriet stepped into the lift and the doors closed behind her. Willie breathed a sigh of relief. For tonight at least the girl was safe—whether she wanted to be or not.

  “That’s where they were going?” He shook his head in obvious disbelief. “Harriet, all of them, should know better.”

  “One would think.” She frowned. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “I thought it best not to interfere. Besides—” he grinned “—I was rather enjoying it. You were doing an admirable job with Harriet.”

  “From what she said, or rather what she stopped herself from saying, I believe your sister was right. About Mr. Goodwin being here. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if this outing wasn’t a ploy to meet him.”

  Dante’s jaw tightened. “Then we shall have to redouble our efforts to keep an eye on my niece.”

  “I would hate to see her make a mistake that would affect the rest of her life.”

  “As you did?” he said mildly.

  Willie had never admitted, even to herself, that her marriage to George had been a dreadful mistake. But hadn’t she begun to realize that long before George’s death? “Harriet has a large and loving family from what you’ve said. I doubt your family would ever abandon her, regardless of what choices she might make. In that respect Harriet and I are nothing alike.

  “But I was Harriet’s age when I too fell in love with a dashing, disreputable rake who swept me off my feet. In hindsight, I could say it was a mistake but what I know of life now and what I knew then are two entirely different things.” She met his gaze firmly. “For good or ill, the decisions I have made in my life are what have brought me to this point. And they cannot be undone.” She paused. “They call her Harry, you know. The other girls that is.”

  “Yes, I know.” He rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “They are Americans so I suppose such nonsense is to be expected. And you have changed the subject.”

  “Indeed I have.” Regardless of her feelings about George and their life together, it struck her as extremely disloyal to speak poorly of him. He was dead and could never make amends, so what was the point? Admitting to Dante, or to anyone, that her marriage was one of many mistakes she had made didn’t change anything. Not her past at least. And she was determined to make as few mistakes as possible in the future. “I have the distinct impression that you don’t like calling women by men’s names, do you?”

  “Not especially. I certainly don’t like Harry. Willie, however, does seem to suit you.”

  “So Willie is acceptable whereas Harry is not?”

  “So it would seem. Besides, I prefer to have only one woman in my life with a man’s name.”

  Her breath caught. “Am I in your life?”

  “I hope so.” His gaze met hers.

  “I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that,” she said slowly.

  “Have I caught you off guard?”

  “Somewhat.”

  He grinned. “Then you know how it feels.”

  “To be caught off guard?” She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  He leaned close and spoke quietly into her ear. “Do you intend to seduce me tonight, Mr. Montague?”

  “Oh.” Good Lord, she was blushing again.

  He straightened and smiled—no—smirked. Why, the man was an arrogant beast. She rather liked that. There was something about putting an arrogant beast in his place that sounded like great fun.

  “I believe I shall retire for the evening,” she said coolly. “We have a full schedule tomorrow.”

  “And we wouldn’t want to disrupt that.” He waved her ahead and they started for the lift.

  “No indeed.” Did he intend to escort her to her room?

  They stepped into the elevator and gave the attendant their floor numbers. Surely he would not be so bold as to accompany her without her permission?

  The lift stopped at her floor and the attendant opened the gate then stepped aside to allow her to pass.

  “Good evening, Mr. Montague,” she said and stepped out of the lift, glancing back at him.

  “One moment if you please,” Dante said to the attendant then joined her in the corridor. “Allow me to escort you to your rooms.”

  “My room is right there.” She gestured to the second door from the lift.

  “Very well then.”

  She held her breath. Would he suggest joining her in her room?

  “Good evening, Lady Bascombe.” He tipped his hat, nodded and stepped back into the lift. A moment later, the gate closed. It was most dramatic. One would have thought he had planned it.

  Willie really wouldn’t have minded if he had asked to come in with her. She stepped into her room, closed the door behind her and turned the lock. It certainly didn’t need to lead to anything of significance. Why, only last night she had told him she had no intention of falling into the bed of the first man who happened by. Of course, she had also said that he was wonderful. Quite, quite wonderful. And indeed, she sighed, he really was. Unless she was horribly mistaken, it did seem clear that he felt she was rather wonderful herself.

  At once, she realized what Dante had started to confess last night. It was so obvious she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before. When Dante had looked into her past, he had become, well, taken with her. From the moment they’d first met, he’d gone out of his way to be delightful and charming and eminently likable. Hadn’t it struck her then that he was trying entirely too hard? It was a bit unsettling and yet extremely flattering. And exciting. As he really was extraordinarily nice.

  When Willie had realized the only way to avoid marrying simply for financial support was to reclaim the Portinari and support herself with the proceeds from its sale, it had made perfect sense. Besides, she had no desire to marry again in the foreseeable future. One day perhaps. But then she hadn’t planned to meet anyone who made her heart skip and her stomach flutter. And she had never expected Dante Montague.

  Perhaps Poppy was right. Perhaps the most wonderful things in life really were those we least expect.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Itinerary.

  Paris.

  Day 4: Our final day in Paris will begin with a morning bus tour of the city.

  In the afternoon, we will say farewell with visits to those iconic places that have long been recognized as belonging to Paris and Paris alone. We shall tour the Pantheon, the Musée de Cluny and the Cathedral of Notre Dame as well as other notable sights as time allows.

  DANTE NEVER WOULD have imagined it but Lady Wilhelmina Bascombe was merciless. She had taken on her role of tour hostess with a passion that was nothing short of terrifying. It seemed she was determined to fit every possible noteworthy sight of Paris into this last day.

  The Americans didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, they moved with an enthusiastic speed he never would have expected from the fairer sex. His sister too embraced their unrelenting pace through the City of Light with a resolve he hadn’t realized she had. Although he suspected Roz thought the faster they went from place to place, the more difficult it would be for Mr. Goodwin to catch up with them.

  A private omnibus complete with a knowledgeable tour guide had been hired for the morning. And while the gentleman attempted to show his clients as much of Paris as possible, at an impressive speed, it was the most relaxing part of the day. Thank God for the heavy traffic. Otherwise, memories of Paris might be nothing more than a never ending blur of tree-lined streets and mansard-roofed buildings.

  They stopped for a too quick lunch at a fashionable café at the Palais Royal arcade facing the gardens and fountain. A lovely spot for a brief respite although Willie did find it necessary to point out the solar cannon fired by the sun. Information she gleaned from one of her many guidebooks. Admittedly,
the miniature cannon was remarkable as it was set off by the sun precisely at noon and regulated the Palais Royal clocks as well as giving passersby an accurate way to adjust their own watches. Dante’s watch was already exact.

  Unfortunately, in her zeal to detail the endless history of the area, she inadvertently mentioned that it was home to some of the most elegant shops in Paris. A mention which did not go unnoticed. Even Willie was hard-pressed to ignore the pleas of the determined Americans and the Countess of Richfield and so a delay of one hour was granted. Which would have been quite delightful if it had given him the opportunity to spend that hour alone with Willie. It was obvious at once that even though the two American mothers had been told of Goodwin’s presence and had promised Roz they too would keep a close watch on Harriet, the lure of shops not yet pillaged was irresistible to any of them, including his sister. Even Willie succumbed to the temptation of luxury for sale and it was left to him to keep an undistracted watch on his niece.

  It was most regrettable. He wanted nothing more than a private word or hour or day with Willie. Dante wasn’t sure what had happened between them last night but there had been a moment of complete and utter awareness. When he had realized he did indeed want Willie in his life. And wanted her there far beyond Venice.

  Dante wasn’t at all used to being confused, to not knowing his own mind. But at some point, the lady had become more important than the painting. Certainly his desire to reclaim the Portinari had not lessened, the need to restore the work to its rightful place had not dimmed, but something had changed. Shifted if you will. Willie Bascombe had apparently worked her way into—what? His heart perhaps? As much as he wanted the Portinari, he might possibly want her more. Which did complicate everything and could well be a disaster in the making. Still, he needn’t worry about it until they reached Venice. For now he would simply enjoy her company. Relish the occasional brush of her hand. Savor those moments when her blue eyes met his in a silent communication meant only for them.