The Lady Travelers Guide To Scoundrels And Other Gentlemen. Victoria Alexander
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“Derek,” Aunt Guinevere began.
He held up his hand to quiet her. “Although operation may not be the appropriate term. So let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”
“I suppose if we must.” Mrs. Higginbotham plucked an invisible thread from her sleeve.
“The beginning is always an appropriate place to start, Effie, dear.” Aunt Guinevere nodded in a gracious manner. “Do proceed, Derek.”
“Thank you.” He considered the ladies for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure of Aunt Guinevere’s age, nearing her eighties he thought, but it was difficult to determine. She and her friends were certainly not decrepit in any apparent way. Spry was the word that came to mind. And, from the look in their overly innocent eyes, crafty, as well. It struck him that he would be wise not to underestimate this trio. “Now then, the three of you began this enterprise six months ago?”
“Closer to nine, I think,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said. “We met for the first two months in Gwen’s parlor. But it soon became obvious that would not do.”
“For the purposes of?”
“Why, acquainting women with the benefits of travel, of course.” Aunt Guinevere beamed. “And providing expert assistance and guidance through lectures and brochures and touring services to fulfill their dreams of adventure through travel.”
“And for this expert assistance—” He glanced down at the paper in front of him. “You charge your membership a full one pound sterling every month.” He looked up at the ladies. “Is that correct?”
“It’s really quite reasonable,” Aunt Guinevere chided.
“And if you pay for an entire year at once, we give you a discount. A mere ten pounds.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore smiled. “We are a bargain.”
Mrs. Higginbotham nodded. “There is a great deal to take into account when one is traveling beyond England’s shores, you know, Mr. Saunders.”
“Yes, I can imagine,” he said. “And for these alleged benefits—”
“I would dispute the word alleged,” Mrs. Higginbotham said under her breath.
“You now have—” Derek sifted through the papers “—some ninety members. Is that right?”
“Actually, we’re approaching one hundred.” Pride curved Aunt Guinevere’s lips. “We had no idea we’d grow so quickly.”
“You can see why we could no longer meet in Gwen’s parlor.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore leaned forward in a confidential manner. “You’d be surprised at how many women are longing to throw off the shackles of everyday existence and live an adventurous life of travel. It’s quite remarkable.”
“No doubt.” Derek’s gaze shifted from one lady to the next. “So, the society brings in nearly one hundred pounds a month. And for their dues your members receive?”
The ladies exchanged resigned glances.
“Our expert advice on traveling the world,” Aunt Guinevere said in a well-rehearsed manner.
“The companionship and camaraderie of like-minded women,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore added.
“As well as knowledgeable guidance and, for a minor additional fee, the providing of arranged travel services,” Mrs. Higginbotham finished with a flourish.
“And that, dear ladies, is where we have a problem.” Derek folded his hands together on the stack of papers and studied the women. All three had adopted blameless expressions, and all three had nearly identical glints of cunning in their eyes. “I shall grant you that the society does indeed provide a convivial atmosphere for ladies with similar interests in travel.”
“That was mine.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore smirked.
“However.” Derek’s tone hardened.
Mrs. Higginbotham sighed. “I do so hate it when men use the word however in that forbidding tone. Nothing good ever came of a man starting a sentence with however.”
Derek’s jaw tightened. “Nonetheless—”
“Nonetheless is just as bad.” Mrs. Higginbotham huffed.
He ignored her. “According to your membership brochure—”
“Isn’t it lovely?” Aunt Guinevere said. “Poppy designed it herself. Don’t you think it’s fetching with her drawing of the pyramids in Egypt and the Colosseum in Rome and those charming American natives? Poppy is quite an accomplished artist.”
“Goodness, I wouldn’t say I was accomplished. I am scarcely more than an amateur.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore blushed and waved off the comment in a modest manner. “I had hoped to be an artist when I was young, but that was one of those silly, girlish dreams and best forgotten.”
“Nevertheless,” Mrs. Higginbotham said staunchly. “You’re very good.”
“The brochure is indeed extremely well done.” Derek struggled to keep the impatience from his voice. “However—”
Mrs. Higginbotham grimaced.
“Aunt Guinevere, it’s my understanding that you rarely, if ever, traveled with Uncle Charles, which would seem to negate the claim of expert in regard to your knowledge of travel.”
“I suppose...” Aunt Guinevere hedged. “If one goes strictly by personal travel...”
“I suspect as well—” his gaze shifted between his great-aunt’s coconspirators “—neither Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore or Mrs. Higginbotham have substantially more travel experience than you do.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Saunders.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore sniffed. “I resided for nearly six weeks in Paris as a girl.”
“And the late Colonel Higginbotham and myself spent several summers in the Lake District.” Mrs. Higginbotham paused. “Admittedly, that does not equate to foreign travel but it is some distance from here.”
“Domestic travel as it were,” Aunt Guinevere said helpfully.
“And yet I imagine when your members speak of their dreams of adventure through travel, Lake Windermere is not the first destination that comes to mind.”
“Lovely spot, though,” Mrs. Higginbotham murmured.
“There is no need to raise your voice, dear.” Aunt Guinevere cast him a disapproving frown.
“I did not raise my voice. In fact, I have been doing my very best not to raise my voice.” He drew a steadying breath. “Correct me if I’m in error, ladies, but by no stretch of the most fertile imagination could any of you be considered experts in travel or the arrangement of travel.”
Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose if one wanted to base judgment on actual experience alone, that might be considered