The Lady Travelers Guide To Scoundrels And Other Gentlemen. Victoria Alexander

is a plum, there’s a possibility it may not be a plum. However, when dozens of people identify it as a plum, the chances are very good that it is indeed a plum.”

      “I see.” He continued his perusal of her as if she were an insect in a glass case. “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

      “I’ve never had any reason to doubt myself or my judgment.”

      “Oh, this will be an enjoyable trip,” he said under his breath.

      “I am not here to enjoy myself,” she said staunchly.

      “Understandable, of course.”

      “I am very concerned about my cousin.” The oddest lump formed in her throat, and she cleared it. “Indeed, she is my only concern.”

      “Do not mistake my words, Miss Prendergast,” he said in a serious manner. “I, too, am concerned that we find Lady Heloise safe and well. However, it has been my observation that even the most serious of ventures progresses more easily when one attempts to appreciate new experiences.”

      “I have no intention of appreciating anything.”

      “No, I didn’t think you would.”

      She ignored him. “I do wish you would answer my question. Why are we starting in Paris?”

      “Because the last letter you received from her came from Paris.”

      “How did you know that?”

      “Good God, Miss Prendergast, you needn’t look at me as if I were some sort of nefarious villain intent on doing you and your cousin harm.”

      Admittedly, she had little more than gossip and her suspicions as to his character. Not that he probably didn’t deserve it.

      “Until you prove otherwise, Mr. Saunders...” She shrugged.

      He stared at her for a moment, then laughed.

      “This is not amusing.”

      “On the contrary, it—you—” he raised his glass to her “—are most amusing.”

      “Imagine my delight in your assessment of me,” she snapped. “Now, once again—how did you know her last letter was from Paris?”

      “When we first met, you said her last letter was from France and you specifically said it was from Paris in each and every letter you sent to the Travelers Society.”

      She stared at him. “You actually read them?”

      “Of course I did.” He sipped his drink. “If you recall, I had already begun an effort to locate her before you so politely introduced yourself.”

      “I will grant you that,” she said reluctantly. Perhaps on this one point she was not being fair.

      “Thank you.” He thought for a moment. “It simply seemed to me it was logical to begin our search in the last place we know Lady Heloise to have visited, rather than going back to where she was previously. Don’t you agree?”

      “That does make sense.” She nodded slowly.

      “Then I’m right?”

      She clenched her teeth. “Yes, I suppose you are.”

      “Excellent.” He grinned.

      “Don’t be smug, Mr. Saunders. It’s most unbecoming.”

      “Nonetheless, I find it hard to resist. I can’t imagine you admitting that I may be right about something to be more than an infrequent occurrence. I intend to savor it when it happens.”

      “As well you should, as I, too, am fairly certain it will be extremely rare.”

      He grinned another most disarming grin. It was all she could do to ignore it.

      “Did you bring your cousin’s letters?” he said, abruptly changing the subject.

      She nodded.

      “May I read them?”

      She started to refuse, then realized it was not an unreasonable request. And while he might not have her trust, a little cooperation between them might be beneficial. “May I ask why?”

      “There may be something in them that could prove of value. Something you might have overlooked.”

      “That’s possible I suppose.” She grabbed her bag and rummaged through it.

      “And I am right once again,” he murmured. She pretended not to hear him. “If these are of a personal nature—”

      “No, not at all.” She pulled out a packet of letters and handed it to him. “Heloise wrote of the sights, where she was staying and assorted travel details. Nothing especially personal at all.”

      He shuffled through the letters. “Is that unusual? For them to be so impersonal, that is?”

      “I didn’t say they were impersonal, although I suppose they might be construed as such. As for whether or not that’s unusual, I can’t really say.” She thought for a moment. “Heloise and I haven’t corresponded since my school years. If I recall correctly, those letters were about the details of her day-to-day life. Her letters now are about travel and the sights she’s seeing. This is very new to her, and she was extremely excited about her travels. It simply stands to reason that detailing what she sees would be what she’d write about.”

      “Of course.” He nodded. “May I return these to you in the morning?”

      “Certainly, and I should take my leave, as well.” She rose to her feet, Mr. Saunders standing at once. She could not fault the man’s grasp of manners. “I, too, have a great many details to attend to before our departure.” She nodded and started toward the door.

      India was the first to admit her greatest flaw was impatience. Now that arrangements were made, she was almost as eager as the Greers to begin their travels. Eager and possibly even a bit excited. The thought pulled her up short. There was nothing to be excited about. This was Heloise’s adventure, not hers.

      “One more thing, Miss Prendergast, before you go.”

      She turned back to him. “Yes?”

      “As we are to be traveling companions, and will be spending a considerable amount of time in each other’s company, I would appreciate it if you would give the slightest bit of consideration to the possibility that I am not as wicked as you apparently think.” He smiled in a most engaging way. She ignored it.

      “That remains to be seen, Mr. Saunders. Although I should warn you—” she flicked her gaze over him in a dismissive manner “—I have never been fond of plums.”

       CHAPTER SIX

      “AND HOW LONG do you expect this endeavor to take?” Uncle Edward studied Derek from behind the massive desk in the library in his London house. Now in his sixty-first year, the Earl of Danby was still a fine figure of a man with graying hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to notice all sorts of things one wished they wouldn’t. Derek had been the recipient of that look before. He resisted the urge to squirm in his chair like a guilty schoolboy.

      “Quite honestly, sir—” Derek braced himself “—I have no idea.”

      Derek would have liked nothing better than to have avoided this conversation altogether, but in the months since Uncle Edward’s mandate that he reform his carefree ways, he’d been working with the earl’s estate, property and business managers. No one had been more surprised than Derek to discover he not only had a knack for numbers and business; he enjoyed it. Abandoning his new duties for as long as it took to find Lady Heloise would not sit well with his uncle. At least not without an explanation.

      “I see.” Uncle Edward considered him in a noncommittal manner.

      “Frankly,