The Lady Travelers Guide To Larceny With A Dashing Stranger. Victoria AlexanderЧитать онлайн книгу.
democratic.”
“The influence of the Americans no doubt.”
“It was not my idea nor is it on the schedule. However—” she drew her brows together “—now that it is on the schedule, we should adhere to it.”
“What was on the schedule? Before the illumination I mean,” he added.
“Nothing.” She huffed. “Since it was a long day of travel, it was thought best not to plan anything for tonight.”
“Excellent.”
“It’s not the least bit excellent.” It was all she could do to keep from stamping her foot in frustration. It did seem that if the group decided to do something—whether that was taking in a sight or anything else—members of said group should appear when they said they would. “It’s most annoying. Our entire itinerary has been well thought out.”
“Still, one might think a certain flexibility—”
“The schedule, Mr. Montague, was changed on the trip from Calais due to the wishes of all involved.” There was that governess again. Where did she come from? “Your sister and the others agreed that seeing the illumination of Mr. Eiffel’s tower would be a grand way to spend the first night of our travels. It was a most passionate discussion, although I believe you might have been napping at the time.”
“Probably.” He winced. “I do apologize. My last visit to Paris was more than a year ago and I have an awkward tendency to forget how...distressing crossing the channel can be. Sleep usually helps.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” She waved off his comment. “One can’t help being prone to mal de mer any more than one can help catching a cold in the winter or sneezing at the scent of spring flowers.”
“Spring flowers make you sneeze?”
“On occasion,” she said absently and glanced at the front desk. “Perhaps I should request a bellman be sent to their rooms to inquire after them. I really don’t understand why everyone isn’t here yet.”
“They aren’t here because they aren’t coming.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean? Why aren’t they coming? This was their idea.”
“If you will allow me to escort you to a cab—” again he offered his arm “—I will be happy to explain.”
“I’m still not sure we should go without them,” she said but took his arm nonetheless. “Are you certain they aren’t coming?”
“I am.” He steered her toward the door. “And they aren’t coming because apparently the original schedule was best.”
“Imagine my surprise,” she muttered. Very nearly every minute of their trip had been planned by Miss Granville who’d emphasized the importance of abiding by the schedule. She’d said a group of travelers cannot be allowed to wander freely without purpose. It was not the least bit efficient and certainly not the way to see everything said travelers wished to see. The end result of such a trip being dissatisfaction from all participants and the loss of future business. As well as anarchy and the possible end of the world, Willie had suggested. Miss Granville was not amused. “Miss Granville is excellent at schedules.”
A well-trained doorman stationed at the entry opened the doors a scant second before them and they stepped out onto the street, another doorman at once hailing a cab.
Willie paused in midstep. Since the earliest days of her childhood, she had considered twilight the most magical part of the day. The fleeting moments when glimpses of fairies could be caught flitting between flowers. It was silly really. She had grown far past such whimsy. Still, that brief interlude between the setting of the sun and the stars filling the sky had always felt special and filled with possibilities. Why, the very air itself was fraught with anticipation and magic.
And she was in Paris. She’d never imagined she would travel to Paris, at least not recently. When she was a girl, of course she had assumed she would someday visit places like Paris and Vienna and Rome. Certainly she’d had any number of friends who’d had grand tours of the capitals of Europe but then they hadn’t run off and married dashing handsome rogues at the beginning of their first season. Although one could say George was the very reason why she was here at all. Which was a point in favor of forgiving him but an extremely small point.
Regardless of the circumstances, she was at last in the celebrated capital of France. The center of art and fashion, of ancient edifices and bohemian adventure. The most extraordinary sense of anticipation swept through her and why not? There was much to look forward to. Streetlights were coming on. Carriages would soon be arriving at the Opera House adjoining the hotel. The evening was cool but not unpleasantly so. And there was a shockingly interesting man by her side. Magic was indeed in the air. While she would never have wished George dead, there might well be a great deal to be said in favor of widowhood.
If, of course, one had the finances to support widowhood in the manner to which one was accustomed, no matter how precariously funded that manner had been. She was not after all traveling on her own money at the moment. The Portinari was the means to change that. Or at least give her time to determine what her next step in life should be.
Dante helped her into the cab and gave the driver directions. The man was remarkably fluid in French and Willie caught little more than their destination—Champs de Mars, the promenade that stretched between the Tower and the main buildings of the exposition. The carriage started off.
“If we took another route we could see more of the city,” she said without thinking. She had indeed studied her maps.
“However, this is the most direct and most efficient way to the Champs de Mars. I assure you, Lady Bascombe, Paris has changed little since your last visit.” He paused. “When were you last here?”
It was a casual offhand question, idle chatter really. He couldn’t possibly know this was her first visit. “It always seems forever when one is away from Paris, Mr. Montague. And I disagree. Paris is constantly changing. Even sights that have been here always are new when one hasn’t seen them for a while. Why, that’s what makes Paris so exciting.”
He chuckled. “You have me there.”
“Yes, I know.” She couldn’t help the smug note in her voice, as if she had just made a hard-earned point in an evenly matched game.
Travel documents weren’t the only things Willie had studied in the last three weeks. Miss Granville had encouraged her to refresh her memory about the important landmarks of the places they would visit as it had probably been some time since Willie had been to Paris or Monte Carlo or Venice. The American was obviously much more perceptive than she let on. While Willie had assured her it was not necessary, she had nonetheless read and reread all her guidebooks as well as endless Lady Traveler Society pamphlets. After all, Willie was presumed to be a sophisticated, experienced traveler and should know what she was talking about. She had also perused a few articles about the Paris Exposition as they were scheduled to spend an entire day at the world’s fair, including an ascension to the top of the Eiffel Tower. It did seem there was a great deal to remember and Willie had never been good at that sort of thing. Studying was to be avoided in school. She was female after all and destined to marry well. Why on earth would she need to know silly facts about things she didn’t care about? It had made a great deal of sense at the time. Now, however, she could add it to a growing list of things she would have done differently in the first thirty years of her life.
“Now then, Mr. Montague, please explain,” Willie said when they were both settled in their respective seats in the open-top cab. “What did you mean by the original schedule was best?”
“It seems once my sister made herself comfortable in her room, she had no desire to leave. Apparently, Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Corby agreed. They decided it would be wise to have a quiet meal in their rooms and begin fresh tomorrow.”
“I can understand that but your niece as well as Geneva and the twins were quite eager to begin their