The Lady Travelers Guide To Larceny With A Dashing Stranger

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“My apologies, Lady Bascombe,” he said slowly, “if I implied in any way that I thought you were less than brilliant. I assure you, that is not the case. Indeed, the moment we met, I thought to myself, That is a woman who is as clever as she is lovely.”

“That’s absurd.” She scoffed. “I didn’t sound the least bit clever when we met.”

“And yet I thought you were.” He offered his arm. “And I am an excellent judge of character.”

She took his arm and sighed. “You’re being extraordinarily nice.”

“I am extraordinarily nice.” He steered her through the crowded plaza. “As you will soon discover.”

“Will I?”

He slanted her a distinctly wicked grin. “I intend to see that you do.”

“That’s sounds vaguely like a challenge. Or a threat.”

“It’s a promise, Lady Bascombe. I wish to be friends and I intend to do everything I can to make certain you see my finer points no later than Venice.”

“I would not be confident of that if I were you.”

“Oh, but I am. Confidence goes hand in hand with extraordinarily nice.”

“No doubt.” Willie glanced around. “I must say, I didn’t expect the crowd to be this large.” The plaza was packed with people milling and jostling about to get a better view. Although really, as Mr. Eiffel’s tower dominated the landscape, one would have to be blind to miss it. “I had thought, since the exposition has been open since spring, people would have had their fill of the illumination.”

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine anyone ever getting their fill of such a sight. Besides, the exposition isn’t scheduled to close until the end of the month.”

“But won’t they continue to light the tower even after the exposition? It seems to me, I am hearing as much French in the crowd as any other language.”

“It’s possible, I suppose, but I doubt it. The structures built for world’s fairs are never intended to be permanent,” he said, guiding her through the crowd. “While the French have been holding fairs like this one every dozen years or so, even here most of these buildings are not built to last. The tower is to be torn down in twenty years.” He found a spot where the crush was a bit less and they turned toward the tower.

“It seems like a great deal of effort for a temporary structure.”

“But well worth it, I think.”

“Perhaps.” Her gaze followed the graceful curve of the structure upward until the tower vanished into the deepening twilight. It really was an incredible achievement. It had looked large from a distance but one couldn’t get a true feel for its massive size until one was closer. Built of iron, it yet had the delicate look of lace against the setting sun. This triumph of modern engineering was really quite fanciful in its own way. “Rather a pity it can’t last forever.”

“Few things do.” Dante contemplated the structure.

Without warning, the illumination began. Light swept from the four corners of the tower and raced upward, lighting arches and lattice work and climbing toward the heavens. The multiple fountains around the base of the tower erupted in light, as well. The crowd gave a gasp of amazement. Willie clasped her hands together and tried not let her mouth drop open. It was very nearly impossible. She’d never seen anything so spectacular and never imagined she would.

Beside her, Dante blew a long breath. “Well, that is indeed—”

“Magnificent.” Willie could barely sigh the word. “And magical. Why, it’s positively enchanting.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

Something in Dante’s voice caught at her, something delightful and not entirely unexpected. “Are you still speaking of the tower?”

“No, Lady Bascombe, I’m not.”

She slanted him a quick glance. “You’re staring at me, Mr. Montague. Monsieur Eiffel would be most offended that you are not gazing with rapt interest at his tower.”

“Ah, but he hasn’t met you.” He shook his head. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Preconceived notions are often wrong.”

“Apparently.” He chuckled. “But I am looking forward to discovering exactly where I was wrong.”

“Good luck to you, Mr. Montague,” she said in an overly prim manner. Good Lord, the man was flirting with her and she was flirting right back. She hadn’t flirted since before George had died and even then flirtation with other men was of no consequence. She’d been married after all. Now...

Why shouldn’t she flirt with him if she wished? Why couldn’t she do whatever she wanted regarding Mr. Dante Montague? It wasn’t as if she had a spotless reputation to maintain, although she’d been exceptionally faithful when George was alive. Now that he was gone, why, widows were allowed a certain amount of discreet freedom. Dante Montague might well be the perfect man to begin her new life of independence with. Besides, she had always been fond of men with dimples.

“You needn’t try so hard, Mr. Montague.” Willie bit back a smile and kept her gaze on the tower. “It’s really not necessary.”

“It’s not?”

“Not at all.” She turned to him and cast him her brightest smile. “I suspect I will like you long before we reach Venice.”

CHAPTER SIX (#u33f4f0c1-27d4-556d-9e12-6991395af571)

Itinerary.

(Prepared by Miss Charlotte Granville)

Paris.

Day 1. A full day will be spent at the Exposition Universelle. Highlights of which will include an ascension to the top of the Eiffel Tower and the perusal of the many international exhibits, both cultural and progressive. The group will spend the evening in enjoyment of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West.

Day 2. The morning and afternoon shall be devoted to appreciation of the extensive collection of mankind’s artistic accomplishments at the Louvre Museum. Following a day of artistic enlightenment, the entire party has been invited to an evening of music hosted by the American ambassador.

“WHAT DO YOU think of her?” Dante said to his sister beside him but his gaze remained fixed on Willie. Halfway down the Louvre’s Salon Carré, with a guidebook in one hand and a voice that carried, she regaled the rest of their group with details about the paintings covering the walls and the palace itself. Today, according to her unyielding schedule, was to be spent at the Louvre.

“Oh, I think she’s marvelous, of course, but then I always have,” Roz said. “Something about the play of light and perhaps the use of color makes the subject much more palatable. I recall seeing her on my very first trip to Paris. You remember—shortly after Paul and I were married? No, you probably don’t. Regardless, I thought she—no—I thought everything here was quite wonderful. Centuries of artistic accomplishment and all that. I did so want Harriet to have the same experience.”

Dante’s attention snapped to his sister. “What?”

“It’s a mother sort of thing. You wouldn’t understand.” She dismissed him with a curt wave of her hand. “Did you know those girls are calling Harriet Harry now?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure if I’m appalled or amused.”

“I—”

“Well, of course I knew you would be appalled. Precisely why I have decided not to be. Besides, while I have always thought a female with a man’s name to be the tiniest bit shocking, it is, as well, most delightful. It gives a woman a sense of strength and goodness knows, we could all use that. I know you don’t agree, Dante, but it is something you should consider. While you do tend to embrace progress in general, you really need to be open to new ideas when it comes to things like this.”

“I am—”

“However, to your credit, I have noticed you don’t seem quite so stuffy about it when it comes to Lady Bascombe’s name.”

“Are you deliberately misunderstanding me?” He glared. “I was not talking about—” he gestured at the painting of Salome receiving the head of John the Baptist on a platter on the wall in front of them “—this.”

She smiled in an overly sweet manner. “Yes, brother dear, I know.” She moved to the next painting and he trailed after her.

For once Dante could ignore his sister’s determination to annoy him. After all, she had done him an enormous favor when she had begged off seeing the illumination of the Eiffel Tower, allowing him hours in Willie’s company without interruption. Not that there was anything improper in their evening together, which oddly struck him as something of a shame when they had retired to their respective rooms. Shocking idea, of course, but there it was. Even if she was nothing more than his path to the Portinari, she was still a fascinating creature and he was a normal man. Those kinds of thoughts were to be expected.