For a moment, Derek thought there was a glint of amusement in her eyes, but then Val had always been skilled at amusing women. Still, for whatever reason, the thought that Val could make her smile was irritating.
“I’d wager you could hear it all over the house,” Val said smugly.
“I’d wager you could hear it all over the city.” Derek nodded at India. “Well done, Miss Prendergast.”
“Thank you, Mr. Saunders.” A satisfied note sounded in her voice, and this time there was no mistake. India was definitely trying not to smile. Perhaps there was hope for her, after all.
“You said you call him Derek.” Val’s eyes narrowed.
“Apparently, when I am entertaining incorrigible gentlemen in my bedchamber, I prefer more formal, proper terms of address.”
Val laughed, and Derek couldn’t resist a grin. This was going to be an interesting stay. He moved farther into the room, grabbed a chair and positioned it on the opposite side of the bed from Val.
She raised a brow. “Oh, do join us, Mr. Saunders.”
“I would be delighted.” He ignored the sarcasm in her voice and sat down. “While you have obviously already met, allow me to properly, formally introduce the Marquess of Brookings, my stepbrother.”
“Your what?” India stared in disbelief.
“Derek’s mother was my stepmother.”
“Val’s father was my mother’s second husband.”
“That explains so much,” she said under her breath.
“You were right, Derek,” Val said with a regretful shake of his head. “She is stuffy.”
“You said I was stuffy as well as calm, unemotional and cold?” She turned to Derek. “Dare I ask what else you said about me?”
Derek threw his stepbrother an annoyed look. Did the man ever know when to hold his tongue? “I’m afraid Lord Brookings has taken my comments out of context.”
“Oh, I don’t think I did,” Val said. “I distinctly remember you saying all of that as well as calling her stubborn, suspicious, overly proper and something of a pain—”
“It scarcely matters what Mr. Saunders thinks of me.” India waved off the comments. “Nor does it matter what I think of Mr. Saunders.”
A wicked glint sparkled in Val’s eyes. “What do you think of Mr. Saunders?”
“What do I think?” Her green eyes met Derek’s. “Oh, I have no doubt Mr. Saunders knows exactly what I think of him.”
Her gaze stayed locked with his, and for a moment the oddest sense of regret washed through him.
“But I don’t know what you think of him, and I would pay a great deal to know.” Val grinned. “I daresay it might well be one of the most amusing things I’ve heard in a long time.” A maid appeared in the doorway and caught his attention. “If you will pardon me for a moment.” He stood, moved to the maid and they exchanged a few quiet words.
Val grimaced. “It appears the gendarmes are here, and I need to speak with them. This is a most respectable neighborhood, and it seems someone in the vicinity reported a woman’s screams.”
“Not the first time I imagine,” India said wryly.
Val tossed them an unrepentant smirk and took his leave.
“India,” Derek began, bracing himself. “Please accept my apology for my comments. I am sorry if they offended you in any way.”
“Goodness, I can’t imagine why they would. They certainly come as no surprise.” She shrugged. “I am never offended by the truth.”
“Still, it was rude of me and I never intended—”
“For me to learn of them?”
“Well, yes.” He still couldn’t believe Val had betrayed his confidence. “I shall have a few well-chosen words to say to my stepbrother about this.”
“You needn’t bother.” She paused. “I suppose no one especially wants to hear themselves described as stuffy, unfeeling and cold—”
He winced.
“And while the words themselves do seem rather harsh, they are not inaccurate. I am...” She thought for a moment. “Reserved, if you will. I don’t believe in displaying my emotions, nor do I allow them to dictate my behavior. And I do believe that the rules of proper behavior should be adhered to. I am well aware of my own nature and how I appear to others. Especially those who do not know me.”
“I suspect your friends probably know better.”
“My friends...” She hesitated, then raised her chin in a resolute manner. “Yes, I would imagine they do.”
“If you are amenable to the idea...” He chose his words with care. “I would like to offer the hand of friendship.”
“Good Lord, Derek.” She stared in obvious disbelief. “You don’t like me, and I certainly don’t like you. Why on earth would I want to be friends?”
“I don’t dislike you,” he said quickly, but she was right. The woman was perhaps the most stodgy, opinionated creature he’d ever met. Still, they were stuck with each other. He drew a deep breath. “For one thing—we share a common purpose. We both want to locate Lady Heloise and make certain of her safety. It’s going to be much less difficult if we aren’t at each other’s throats.”
“You may have a point there.”
“In addition, we are to be together for the foreseeable future. I would prefer to spend my time with a friend rather than a foe.”
“But I don’t trust you.”
“I am more than willing not to trust you, either, which gives us something in common on which to base a friendship.”
“I don’t think friendships are built on mutual distrust.”
“Then we shall be the first.” He flashed her a grin.
“That’s absurd.” She frowned. “Why, friendships are based on shared admiration and respect. I have no respect for you at all.”
“Then I shall simply have to earn your respect.” He was fairly certain it would not be easy, but then, thus far, nothing about India Prendergast was. “Although we do already have one thing between us on which to base a friendship.”
“I can’t imagine what that is.”
“Honesty.”
She raised a brow. “And yet we distrust each other.”
“But we are honest about it.”
She studied him
