hand out this week’s pamphlets.” Lady Blodgett smiled and followed her friends to the back of the room. All three ladies kept smiling but India would have wagered all three would have preferred to be anywhere but here at the moment. Mr. Saunders opened the door, and the three women filed through.
India rose to her feet. “Is he here often?”
“I really couldn’t say.” Miss Honeywell frowned. “He was here last week. That was the first time I’d seen him, but, as I said, I am new in this position.”
“Lady Blodgett and the others don’t seem especially happy to see him.” India’s gaze lingered on the door.
“No, I’m afraid not.” A thoughtful note sounded in Miss Honeywell’s voice. “Lady Blodgett seemed quite pleased to see him at first. But no one appeared especially happy after Mr. Saunders and the ladies met privately. They haven’t been quite their usual, cheery selves since.”
“I see,” India murmured. Still, while Mr. Saunders’s connection to the ladies did seem important, she wasn’t entirely sure of its significance.
Part of her hoped that this Lady Travelers Society was legitimate. But if so, why hadn’t anyone here responded to her concerns about Heloise? If the ladies who managed the society weren’t simply taking money for services they were not really providing, why wouldn’t they want to do everything possible to recover one of their own? No, there was something decidedly wrong here.
As much as she hated to admit it, Inspector Cooper might well be right. There might be a man behind it all.
And it was becoming fairly obvious exactly who that man was.
Still, at the moment, it was nothing more than speculation. Far better to face the inspector’s smug, superior attitude when she had found Heloise and was, as well, able to present actual proof that someone had set up an organization for the sole purpose of taking money from those who could least afford it. Worse yet—stealing their long-held dreams of adventures on foreign shores.
India’s resolve hardened. The overly attractive Mr. Saunders might well be able to fool three unsuspecting elderly ladies into being the face of his nefarious scheme, but India Prendergast was made of sterner stuff. She absolutely would not rest until Heloise was safely home. And if one hair on the dear woman’s head was so much as ruffled, India would see to it Mr. Saunders spent the rest of his days in prison.
No matter how dashing and charming he might be.
“LADIES, IF YOU would be so good as to be seated,” Derek Saunders said in his firmest, no-nonsense voice. Up until a few days ago, Derek had been unaware he had a firm, no-nonsense voice. But then, up until a few days ago, he hadn’t needed one.
“I do hope you intend to be brief.” Aunt Guinevere cast him a chastising look and seated herself in one of the surprisingly comfortable leather chairs at the far end of the unoccupied room the Lady Travelers Society had appropriated for its use. Derek still had no idea how his great-aunt and her cohorts had managed to convince the Explorers Club to give them the use of not only a room to serve as an office but a lecture hall, as well, for a fee that was little more than a token. He suspected the elderly ladies wielded their late husbands’ prominence in the men-only club with the unflinching hand of an expert marksman.
“We have members eagerly anticipating Gwen’s lecture, Mr. Saunders,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore pointed out.
“And it’s rude to keep them waiting.” Mrs. Higginbotham pressed her lips together in a disapproving line. “Extremely rude.”
“And we wouldn’t want to be rude, would we?” Derek opened the satchel his uncle had given him in the hopes it would encourage the pursuit of something other than a good time, removed a stack of papers and placed it on the desk. He settled in the chair behind the desk and narrowed his eyes, which did seem to go along with a firm, no-nonsense voice. “Particularly not as you are taking their money under the falsest of pretenses.”
All three ladies gasped. It struck him as both insincere and overly rehearsed. Since his first visit here last week they had no doubt decided exactly how to respond to what he had discovered. Obviously, their intention was to act as innocent and guileless as possible.
“My dear boy, we have no idea what you mean.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore’s eyes widened in feigned bewilderment.
“And I for one find your comment more than a little insulting.” Mrs. Higginbotham sniffed. “False pretenses indeed.”
“I’m certain, Derek, that this is no more than a bit of confusion on your part. Probably a simple misunderstanding.” Aunt Guinevere favored him with the sort of placating smile one would give a small boy, as if he were still six years old. “I’m confident it’s easily cleared up.”
“I doubt that.” He shuffled through the papers that detailed the workings of the Lady Travelers Society to give himself, and them, a moment to prepare. The impressive stack included the membership roster, membership applications, proposed itineraries for members, the agreement with the Explorers Club and several of the society’s brochures. Not that he hadn’t rehearsed exactly what he planned to say, but practice was one thing, coming face-to-face with these deceptively virtuous-looking creatures was something else altogether. Still, it couldn’t be helped.
Before his mother had left to travel the continent with his current stepfather—her third husband—more than a month ago, she had asked him to keep an eye on Great-Aunt Guinevere, her mother’s sister, as the poor dear was getting on in years and, aside from her two lifelong friends, was quite alone in the world. Derek was one of Lady Guinevere’s few living relations, and wasn’t it his duty to make certain she was well? A duty, Mother had pointed out, that was not at all difficult and would go a long way toward showing he was at last accepting responsibility. And, at this particular juncture in his life, wouldn’t he hate to appear irresponsible in any way? Given that Uncle Edward, the Earl of Danby, had taken the occasion of Derek’s thirty-second birthday six months ago to threaten him with loss of his current income and much of his expected inheritance if he did not change his carefree, frivolous existence and begin acting a bit more like the next Earl of Danby should, appearing irresponsible was the last thing Derek needed.
Under other circumstances, it might well have been unfair for Mother to have played that particular card, but there was no denying she was right. Besides, how difficult could it be to make certain a sweet, elderly relative was well and comfortable? Derek rarely saw the older lady, and the depiction Mother had painted of a feeble, eccentric widow in failing health and mind had played on every sense of guilt he’d ever had.
Mother had lied.
When Derek had finally called on Aunt Guinevere, he’d been informed by her butler that she was not at home but could be found in her offices at the Explorers Club. That in itself struck him as odd, but he attributed it to some sort of benefit for widows of prominent members, which, in hindsight, was stupid of him. When he’d arrived at that hallowed shrine to adventure, he discovered Aunt Guinevere was anything but feeble, at least in mind and spirit. Indeed, the old lady and her equally aged companions were engaged in what, to him, appeared very much like some sort of scheme to extort funds from other older ladies.
He drew a deep breath. “I have studied in great detail all the paperwork you gave me last week. However, I do have some questions. Explain to me, if you will, exactly what is entailed in the operation of
