The Lady Travelers Guide To Scoundrels And Other Gentlemen. Victoria Alexander
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“I would think so.” Lady Blodgett gestured absently.
“Fortunately, I made a copy before Lady Heloise left England, which I will share with Mr. Saunders.” India tried and failed to keep the annoyance from her voice. “Should he ever arrive.”
“Come now, Miss Prendergast,” Professor Greer said in a chastising manner. “I have no doubt Mr. Saunders is engaged in preparations for our journey, as any good leader of an expedition would be.”
Indignation surged through India. Good leader, indeed! “On the contrary, Professor, I would imagine Mr.—”
“Parkhurst!” Lady Blodgett interrupted, calling to her butler. “We seem to be running low on biscuits. I’m sure Mrs. Greer would care for some more. Wouldn’t you, Estelle?”
Mrs. Greer glanced from the almost-empty serving platter to her still-full plate, then nodded. “Perhaps another one or two. They are delicious.”
“Aren’t they, though?” Lady Blodgett beamed. “My cook is really quite wonderful with biscuits, although you should try...”
Lady Blodgett continued rambling about scones and other baked goods in an obvious effort to avoid any discussion of her great-nephew’s leadership abilities or anything else about him. India could certainly understand that. It had proven surprisingly easy for Martin’s investigator to uncover a great deal of information about Mr. Saunders. Much of the man’s life was an open book. A scandal-ridden digest of impropriety and excess. The kind of book that should be banned from respectable society.
Derek Saunders was indeed the heir of the Earl of Danby and, like so many young men of privilege, had spent most of his days enjoying the pleasures English life provided the offspring of society. A few years older than India, his reputation for spending, indulgence in gaming, women and drink were the stuff gossips dreamed of. His name had been linked to numerous indiscretions, and while admittedly they were not the kind that ruined lives or toppled empires, they were still notable. The latest rumor was that his uncle was no longer tolerating his irresponsible behavior and had cut him off. One did wonder if he had come up with the idea of siphoning money from susceptible older ladies in the form of dues and charges for travel services after the earl’s edict or before.
“Now then, Miss Prendergast,” Professor Greer began when Lady Blodgett had at last paused for breath. “You were saying that Mr. Saunders’s plans for our endeavor were still undetermined.”
“No, Professor,” India said firmly. “I was saying our plans were—”
“Coming along nicely, I would say.” Mr. Saunders strode into the room and straight to his great-aunt’s side. “My apologies, Aunt Guinevere. Sorry I’m late.” He bent and kissed her cheek, the faultless image of a perfect, doting nephew. One did hope he was fooling the Greers as he certainly wasn’t fooling India. “It took longer than I expected to finalize a few details for our venture. I must say I’m pleased at how well all is working out.” He nodded at India and settled into the chair beside Lady Blodgett. “Miss Prendergast, you’re looking lovely today.”
Such charming nonsense was not going to work on her. “Thank you, Mr. Saunders. You’re looking well. One was beginning to wonder if perhaps you had been hit by a bus.”
He chuckled. “Or perhaps one was hoping.”
She cast him an overly sweet smile. “Perhaps.”
“Derek, you must meet some dear friends of mine who have agreed—at considerable personal sacrifice mind you—to act as chaperones for you and Miss Prendergast,” Lady Blodgett began. “Estelle, allow me to introduce my nephew, Mr. Saunders. Derek, this is Mrs. Greer. Estelle and I have been friends for—oh, how long is it now?” She frowned at Mrs. Greer. “Can it possibly be nearly forty years?”
“Oh dear.” Mrs. Greer winced. “That does seem like an awfully long time, but I’m afraid you’re right.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Greer.” Mr. Saunders stood, took her hand and raised it to his lips. His gaze never left the chaperone’s in a manner too polished and obviously well rehearsed. Derek Saunders had no doubt kissed a fair number of hands. It was all India could do to keep from snorting in disdain. “But surely my great-aunt is mistaken, Mrs. Greer.”
“In what way, Mr. Saunders?” The woman stared up at the younger man, admiration shining in her eyes.
“I cannot believe you have known each other for forty years, unless perhaps she first made your acquaintance when you were barely out of the nursery.”
“Goodness, Mr. Saunders.” A blush colored Mrs. Greer’s cheeks. “You are a charming devil. Why, you will quite turn my head with such nonsense.”
“I do hope so, Mrs. Greer.” Mr. Saunders flashed her a smile that would have made even the most unyielding woman swoon. “And, as we are to be traveling companions, you must call me Derek.”
“Very well, Derek.” Mrs. Greer dimpled. “But only if you call me Estelle.”
India wanted to choke.
A smug gleam showed in Lady Blodgett’s eyes. “And this is Estelle’s husband, Professor Greer.”
“Professor.” Mr. Saunders nodded and shook the other man’s hand firmly.
“Professor Greer is an expert in medieval architecture,” Lady Blodgett said. “Your uncle Charles held him in the utmost regard.”
“From what I recall of my great-uncle, Professor, that is indeed the highest of compliments. And no doubt well deserved.”
“I was a great admirer of his, as well,” the professor said gruffly. “Always wanted to join one of his expeditions, but the time was never quite right.”
“But now you are accompanying me, and I am most grateful to have a man of your expertise and obvious wisdom.”
“You just met the man,” India said without thinking. “How can you possibly say that?”
“Uncle Charles was an excellent judge of character,” Mr. Saunders said smoothly. “Any man who had his respect has mine, as well. I must say, Miss Prendergast, I am somewhat shocked that you would not understand that.” A chastising note sounded in his voice.
Four pairs of accusatory eyes turned toward India. Not the least bit fair. She was not the practiced charlatan here. Obviously why he had won them over and she had not. Still, this was not a good way to begin a journey of indeterminate length. For someone who preferred to act with reason rather than succumbing to emotion, she was apparently letting her feelings about Mr. Saunders color her judgment. And if one wished to best an opponent, one might wish to employ his tactics. She was not used to chicanery, but two could play at his game. How difficult could it be?
“Please forgive me, all of you. I spoke without thinking.” She heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “I am trying very hard to keep my emotions in check but not knowing where Cousin Heloise is...” She sniffed back a nonexistent