CHAPTER TWENTY
“I THINK YOU should tell her everything.”
Derek stopped in midpace and stared at his brother. “Do you really?”
“Well, your other alternative is to tell her absolutely nothing. I’m not sure one option is particularly better than the other.” Val shrugged. “But apparently your Miss Prendergast is especially fond of novels of detection. She might well appreciate the twists and turns the search for her cousin has taken.”
“Do you realize when you sit behind your grandfather’s desk in this imposing library, you look like you actually know what you’re saying.”
“I do know that.” Val planted his palms flat on the desk in an all-encompassing gesture, looking not unlike a king surveying his domain. “It’s why I sit here. I am wise beyond my years, brother.”
“In your eyes only.”
“Come now, I have just given you excellent advice. It’s not my fault that you refuse to take it.”
“You’ve just explained my choices. Choices I am already well aware of. You’ve given me no advice whatsoever.”
“Again.” Val smirked. “Beyond my years.”
“Good Lord,” Derek muttered and resumed pacing.
At least he didn’t need to make a decision at the moment. India and his mother were now in their third day of laying siege to the dress shops of Paris. He’d barely seen her at all, except in passing, since their kiss and subsequent argument. But then he’d been avoiding dinner, and, according to Estelle, so had India. Which was probably for the best.
“As much as I love Mother, as much as I am grateful she is keeping India occupied, the idea of the two of them spending so much time together strikes fear into my heart. They’ve forged some sort of unholy alliance. That union cannot possibly bode well.” He paused and looked at his brother. “What do you think they talk about?”
“Oh, Mother probably goes on about the newest fashions and latest style and what color is de rigueur this season. And your Miss Prendergast undoubtedly loses no opportunity to point out what miscreants Mother’s sons are.”
“That sounds right.” Derek sighed and continued to pace.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. It was a mistake. Oh, not kissing her exactly but kissing her then and there, although he had apologized even if she did kiss him first. And while not his finest moment, there had been the loveliest sense of promise in her kiss.
She’d been so delightfully tempting with those green eyes and perfect posture and ever-so-earnest manner. He wasn’t sure when she’d stopped being annoying and had become irresistible. Although she did continue to be fairly annoying, which oddly enough simply added to her appeal. Nor was he sure which one of them was responsible for that debacle on top of the world—probably both. But he had been truly wounded that even now, after spending so much time together, after he had told her things he’d never told anyone, she still did not trust him. Bloody hell, he was putting up with her campaign to convince him to give up his wicked ways! What more could a man do for a woman?
“I think what you need is practice.”
“Practice?” Derek rolled his gaze at the ceiling. “And what, pray tell, do you think I need to practice?”
“Perhaps practice is not as good a word as, oh, rehearsal.”
“Rehearsal?” Derek raised a brow. “Like a stage play?”
“Exactly.” Val leaned back in his chair. “I shall play the role of Miss Prendergast and you shall be you.”
“This is absurd,” Derek said and plopped into a chair.
“I prefer to think of it as brilliant.”
Derek snorted.
“Now then, Mr. Saunders,” Val adopted an overly high falsetto and sat up rigidly straight in his chair. “You scandalous beast of a scoundrel you, tell me what you learned from the detective.”
“She doesn’t sound like that.” Derek bit back a grin.
“Oh come now, you naughty, naughty boy, I sound exactly like this.” Val wagged his finger. “Now, you wicked man, answer my question.”
“Very well.” He thought for a moment. “The detective—”
“What detective?”
“The one hired by my uncle.” Derek had met with him two days ago, seen him yesterday and then again today.
Val gasped in an exaggerated manner. “Your uncle hired detectives?”
Derek nodded. “He wished to help.”
“What a brilliant idea.” Val narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me, you rogue, you?”
“I...” Why didn’t he tell her? Because even at the beginning he’d wanted to prove something to her? Or to himself? “I don’t know,” he said sharply. “Go on.”
“You haven’t answered my question, you wayward reprobate.” Val heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “What did the detective tell you?”
“His investigation showed Lady Heloise never arrived in Paris.” A fact Derek had confirmed for himself by checking the lists of visitors kept at Galignani’s. “Nor was she apparently ever in France at all.”
“Not in France!” Val clapped his hands to his cheeks. “Goodness, how can you say such a thing, you vile creature! I received letters from her from Le Havre and Rouen and Trouville as well as Paris.”
“Letters that were all taken word for word from guidebooks.”
“Poor, dear Heloise has never been very original.” Val heaved another heartfelt sigh.
“You do realize you sound ridiculous.”
“No more ridiculous than I feel.” Val fluttered his lashes. “Do go on, you villainous cad.”
“The letters were indeed written by your cousin but...” This was where the whole thing became rather messy.
“Yes?” Val’s falsetto was even higher if possible.
“But she did not mail them.” Derek paused. “Mademoiselle Marquette, her maid, mailed them for her.”
Derek had spent much of the day accompanying Uncle Edward’s detective to and from the picturesque village of Chantilly, northeast of Paris, an hour or so away by train. According to the investigator, this was the home of Mademoiselle Marquette’s family. It wasn’t at all hard to find the woman, but it took much prodding, appeals to her better nature and threatening to involve the authorities to get the truth from her.
She admitted Lady Heloise had entrusted her to post letters destined for India from various locations in France, including Paris. Mademoiselle Marquette was further expected to continue on to travel throughout Switzerland, Italy, Greece and a number of other places for a full six months, funding for said travel provided by Lady Heloise. The woman was charged with sending the letters Lady Heloise had written back to India from the places she visited. It was an interesting scheme and would have progressed exactly as planned had not Mademoiselle Marquette decided to pay a visit to her home. She was then so overcome with missing her family, she decided it would do no harm to stay for a while. Apparently, it had taken her several weeks to come to the realization that now that she had returned to the bosom of her family she did not wish to leave, and her obligation to mail Lady Heloise’s letters paled in comparison to her own desires.
Mademoiselle Marquette declared she had sent all the remaining letters back to Lady Heloise in recent days as well as arranged to return the funds she’d been given for travel, minus a bit for her troubles, which she insisted she deserved. While her loyalty to her employer did not extend to continuing her ruse, it apparently did apply to revealing why Lady Heloise had initiated this scheme in the first place and where she was currently. The maid assured Derek Lady Heloise was safe and well but adamantly refused to reveal the lady’s present location. She did, however, imply Lady Heloise had never left England. Uncle Edward’s detective was confident, with this information, she would soon be found.
Upon their return to Paris, Derek sent a telegram to his uncle, asking to be informed the moment the older lady was located.
“Oh, my goodness.” Val rested a limp wrist against his forehead. “Why would she do such a thing? And where is she now?”
“I don’t know.” Derek blew a frustrated breath. “I don’t have the answer to any of that.”
“And that may well be your biggest quandary at the moment,” Val said, resuming his usual voice.
“I have already realized that, but thank you for pointing it out.”
“I believe my initial advice is still the best course. Tell her everything. At the very least it will prove to her this is not the fault of the Lady Travelers Society, and by association, Lady Blodgett’s or yours. As much as it will disappoint her to know she was wrong about you—that you have not been defrauding helpless women out of their savings.”
“I’m not sure it’s worth it.” Derek had been wrestling with this ever since he’d learned the truth.
“Why? Because then she will no longer need to reform you?” Val’s eyes narrowed in a speculative manner. “Or because then she can return to England, and your continuing association will be at an end?”
“Actually,” Derek said slowly, “I hadn’t considered any of that, but I suppose it is worth noting.”
“As you’ve become quite fond of her.” Val paused. “No, that’s not entirely accurate. I’ve become quite fond of her, oddly enough. You like her.”
“She’s easy to like.”
“No, she’s not.” Val snorted. “Although I will say she seems to have loosened, if you will, during her stay here. She is not stretched as taut as she first was.”
“I believe her stay in Paris has been something of a revelation for her.”
“Paris will do that.” He shrugged. “Or perhaps it’s your influence.”
“Possible, I suppose. We are entirely different creatures.” And yet he was hard-pressed to imagine his life continuing without her.
“You’re afraid you’ll lose her if you tell her about her cousin, aren’t you?”
“That’s shockingly perceptive of you.”
“It’s the desk.” Val grinned, then sobered. “I’ve never known you to be a coward.”
“I’ve never had so much at stake before.”
Val stared. “I’m right then. You do have feelings for her.”
“So it would appear.” He shrugged in a helpless manner. “I want to protect her, Val, and I’m not sure I can. Not from this.”
“Regardless, if you care for her, it’s even more important that you tell her what you’ve discovered. If you don’t, it will be that much worse when she finds out.”
“Worse?” Derek said sharply. “How could it possibly be worse than discovering her only family, the woman who has been as much a mother to her as a cousin, the woman who gave her a home when she needed one, has concocted an elaborate scheme to deceive her?”
“Because as hard as that will be for her to learn—” Val met his brother’s gaze “—she will never forgive you for knowing and not telling her.”
For a long moment the brothers stared in silence.
“You’re right. I hate to say it, but you’re right. However...” Derek thought for a moment. “I believe it’s best not to tell her any of this until I know where Lady Heloise is. Right now, regardless of how much we’ve learned, there are still more questions than answers. For her to know Lady Heloise concocted all this but not to know where she is will only increase India’s concern. She’s likely to think all sorts of dire things.”
“Admittedly, it might be wiser to wait.” Val grimaced. “Or it could be an unforgivable mistake. I still think you need to tell her everything you’ve found thus far.”
“If you were in my shoes, would you?”
“It’s the wisest course but...” Val shook his head. “I don’t know. I am eternally grateful I am not in your shoes.”
“The ball is the day after tomorrow,” Derek said. “Mother says India has never been to a ball.”
Val’s brow rose. “What, never?”
“Apparently not. I would hate to ruin it for her. And by then we might have Lady Heloise’s location, as well.” He drew a deep breath. “But regardless, I’ll tell her after the ball.”
Val drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the desk. “What kind of woman has never been to a ball?”
“The kind who never had a season, who never came out in society. The kind who feels it’s her responsibility to earn her own way, who believes things like balls and social events to be frivolous and silly.” Derek’s jaw tightened. “The kind who believes the woman who raised her has a limited income.”
“Lady Heloise?”
Derek nodded. “According to my information, she has a substantial fortune that India is unaware of.”
Val stared at his brother. “Lady Heloise appears to have a lot of secrets.”
“And I am not going to be the one to reveal those secrets.” Learning Lady Heloise not only deceived her about her alleged travels but that she had lied to India her entire life might well devastate her. India did not trust easily, and Derek did not want to be the one to shatter the trust she had in her guardian. “But I’m afraid you’re right. If she learns any of this and then finds out I knew and didn’t tell her...”
“Nasty bit of business, Derek.” Sympathy shone in Val’s eyes. “She may never forgive you if you tell her—blame the messenger and all. And she may never forgive you if you don’t.”
* * *
ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH. In spite of the sense of looming disaster, Derek joined the rest of the house for dinner. India made an appearance, as well, and he could not help but wonder—or perhaps hope—that she missed him as much as he missed her. Still, she made no effort to speak with him privately nor did he. Apparently he truly was a coward when it came to her.
Dinner had the feel of a party to it. Mother played her accustomed role of perfect hostess to the hilt, encouraging and directing conversation around the table. Much of the talk had to do with preparations for the upcoming ball, and Mother made certain the Greers and India understood how delighted she was that they would be in attendance. Derek wasn’t sure if that was as much for the older couple’s benefit as for India’s. And when his mother wasn’t steering the discussion, his stepfather was. Westvale had a heretofore unknown interest in medieval architecture and had apparently read one of the professor’s books. His stepfather also had the unexpected ability to make such an obscure topic interesting for those who were not as well versed in it as Professor Greer. Val took it upon himself to flirt enthusiastically with Estelle and attempted to do so with India, as well. Estelle delighted in his attention, and even India seemed amused. In spite of his best intentions, Derek spent most of the meal studying her.
India was still wearing one of the dresses Estelle had loaned her—Mother had mentioned India’s new clothes were to be delivered in the next few days, thanks to her influence and the added incentive of his stepfather’s fortune. Derek realized his brother was right about India. She was more at ease than she had been when they’d first started out on the quest to find Lady Heloise. Would that vanish when she knew the truth? He still had two more days until he would be forced to find out.
Through the course of the meal, every now and then when Derek’s gaze returned to India, she would be watching him. Her expression gave no indication of what she was thinking but her gaze would meet his with a sort of bemused acknowledgment. And what was surely a promise, although admittedly that might have only been in his head.
If this was the woman he wanted, and with every passing day, any doubt about that faded, then he needed to do something. Something romantic and irresistible. And he needed to do it before he told her about her cousin. If he didn’t want to lose her, in the next two days, he would have to win her heart. And offer her his. A grand romantic gesture was obviously called for.
By the time dinner had ended Derek had acknowledged what he had already suspected. For good or ill, he had fallen in love with the indomitable Miss India Prendergast.
And he had the power to ruin her life.