LITMIR.BIZ

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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 tear, surprised to note it was not quite as feigned as she had expected.

      “You poor dear.” Mrs. Greer cast her a sympathetic glance.

      “Apology accepted, Miss Prendergast.” Mr. Saunders nodded and turned to the others. “We leave for Paris tomorrow. If we take the morning train to Dover, we can be in Paris by nightfall.”

      “Paris?” India stared.

      “Paris.” Mrs. Greer fairly sighed the word. “Did you hear that, Frederick? We’re going to Paris.” She leaned toward Lady Blodgett in a confidential manner. “I have always dreamed of going to Paris.”

      “As have I,” Lady Blodgett said with a weak smile. “Charles always intended to take me, but somehow, the opportune time never arose. My friend Persephone speaks quite fondly of it. Of course, it’s been years since she’s been there.”

      “I spent some time there as a student,” the professor added. “I doubt it’s changed much. Paris never does.”

      “Paris?” India glared at Mr. Saunders. This was not what they had discussed.

      “We, too, have some final arrangements to make.” Professor Greer stood and offered his hand to his wife. “Come along, Estelle.”

      “Oh my, yes.” Mrs. Greer took his hand and rose to her feet. Mr. Saunders stood at once. The man was at least cognizant of polite behavior. “This has all happened so quickly. There is a great deal to do before we can leave. Why, we have to pack our bags and confer with the servants and arrange for—”

      “Then we won’t keep you a moment longer.” Lady Blodgett stood, as well. “Allow me to see you out.” She glanced at her nephew. “I suspect you and Miss Prendergast have much to discuss before your departure.”

      Mr. Saunders glanced at India. “I would think so.”

      The older lady’s gaze shifted from her nephew to India and back. “I will leave you to it then.” She took Mrs. Greer’s arm and herded the couple toward the hall. “I can’t tell you how envious I am. Perhaps, one day, I, too...”

      Mr. Saunders closed the doors behind them.

      India stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Paris?”

      “I believe that’s the third time you’ve said that.”

      “It bears repeating. If I recall correctly, you originally suggested following in Heloise’s footsteps. And I agreed.” She drew her brows together. “Her footsteps did not begin in Paris.”

      “No, they did not,” he said mildly, crossing the room to a cabinet and opening the doors. “Would you care for a brandy or whisky? Or perhaps sherry would be more to your liking.”

      “I have tea.” She waved impatiently at her cup.

      “Ah yes, well, so you do.”

      “I have never been one for overindulgence in spirits.”

      “Imagine my surprise.”

      “Besides, it’s entirely too early in the day for spirits.”

      “How did I know you were going to say that?” He poured himself a glass of something amber and probably horribly inebriating.

      She ignored the question. “I do hope indulging in alcohol at all hours is not something you plan to make a habit of during our travels.”

      “As long as my habits do not interfere in our purposes, I would say they are none of your concern.”

      She paused to summon a measure of calm. She couldn’t find

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