Contents



CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


CHAPTER ONE


When deciding upon an agency to assist in one’s travel preparations, always ask for references from at least three satisfied clients. Without this precautionary step, a lady traveler never knows what might happen and, worse, where it might happen.

—The Lady Travelers Society Guide


London 1889

IT CERTAINLY DID not look like the type of place where genteel, older ladies were bilked out of their life savings. Nonetheless—India Prendergast narrowed her eyes—it was.

India resisted the urge to tap her foot impatiently. She stood second in queue to reach a table set up near the door of one of the smaller lecture rooms in the grand mansion in Bloomsbury that housed the Explorers Club. A number of women chatted near a table bearing refreshments positioned along the wall. Several others had taken seats among the rows of chairs facing a lectern. The stout lady in front of her wore a tall beribboned hat entirely inappropriate for her age and did not seem inclined to hurry, even though a lecture on “What No Lady Traveler Should Leave Home Without” was scheduled to begin shortly. No, the lady ahead of her showed no consideration for the time constraints and chatted blithely with the woman sitting at the table as if there were no one waiting in line behind her.

India wouldn’t be here at all if anyone had responded to her letters demanding information as to the whereabouts of her dear cousin, Lady Heloise Snuggs. In spite of the exotic nature of her name—a cross India had long ago learned to bear—she had no desire for travel and did not find the promise of adventure to be found in foreign lands the least bit enticing. She didn’t understand why any otherwise sane and sensible woman would want to pursue such foolishness. No, the only thing that had brought her here today was concern verging perilously close to abject fear.

It had been nearly six weeks since India had received so much as a brief note from Heloise, and, even given the inefficiency of postal service outside the empire, it was not at all like her. Indeed, until then, India had received a letter at least twice a week, overflowing with her cousin’s delight at the exploration of those places she’d only read about in books. It had long been Heloise’s dream to travel the world. When she’d discovered the existence of the Lady Travelers Society and Assistance Agency—far less imposing than anything run by men—it had appeared that dream was now within reach.

The room filled slowly with other ladies, most of whom had obviously passed the age of fifty, just as Heloise had. And, exactly like Heloise, India suspected they all had dreams of exciting exploits in exotic places, no doubt with a handsome, virile stranger by their side. What utter nonsense.

While India had been uneasy about Heloise sallying forth three months ago to discover the world beyond England’s shores, she couldn’t bring herself to express her concerns and dampen her cousin’s enthusiasm. She’d never seen Heloise quite that excited. Nonetheless, anything could happen to a lady traveling alone, even if Heloise was accompanied by her maid—the competent, no-nonsense Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Marquette. Perhaps if India had expressed her concerns...

India firmly pushed the thought aside but failed to dismiss the dreadful apprehension that had weighed on her soul in the last few weeks. She was fairly certain Heloise would not have listened to her anyway. Regardless, she would never forgive herself if anything happened to the older woman. India was not one for frivolous emotion, but Heloise had claimed a place in India’s heart from very nearly the moment they’d met.

Some twenty years older than India, Heloise was India’s mother’s cousin and the only family India had left in the world. She’d given her a home when India’s parents had died—taking up the responsibilities of raising an eleven-year-old girl. Heloise had helped fund her continued schooling at the prestigious Miss Bicklesham’s Academy for Accomplished Young Ladies, setting aside enough for a respectable dowry for India, should that become necessary. (It hadn’t, which did seem for the best.) Very little of what India had observed about men inclined her at all toward chaining herself to one for the rest of her days.

Heloise had come to India’s rescue when she was needed, and India would do no less for her now. Besides, the thought of losing her was entirely too much to bear.

At last, the lady in front of her moved off to take a seat, and India stepped forward.

“How may I help you, miss?” The blonde woman sitting at the table smiled up at her.

“I should like to join the Lady Travelers Society,” India said firmly. It had been the suggestion of her employer, Sir Martin Luckthorne, that the best way to find out the whereabouts of Cousin Heloise might well be to join the society herself.

“How delightful.” The blonde beamed. India’s distrust wavered slightly in the wake of the woman’s genuine smile, which did seem the best part of her. Oh, she was not unattractive, but neither was she especially pretty. Not a woman one would notice on the street one way or another. In that she and India were similar, and the tiniest pang of regret stabbed India at her deception. Still, it couldn’t be helped. India returned her smile. The woman appeared close in age to India, as well, something else they had in common. At not quite thirty it was clear they were the youngest in the room. “Do you plan to travel then?”

India hesitated. “My plans are uncertain at the moment.”

“Oh.” The blonde drew her brows together. “Most of our members join precisely because they wish to plan their future travel.”

“I do wish to plan my future travel,” India lied. “I’m simply not sure exactly when the future might arrive.”

“That’s something else then, isn’t it?” The blonde nodded in sympathy. “I understand completely. Some of us do not have the means to wander the world simply because we wish to do so.” A determined note sounded in her voice. “However, making preparations for the future is exactly why the Lady Travelers Society was started.”

“By experienced travelers I assume?” India asked although she knew full well who the alleged founders of the organization were.

“Oh my, yes.” Pride glowed in the other woman’s eyes. “Surely you’ve heard of Sir Charles Blodgett?”

“I’m not certain...”

“He was quite famous for his travels and expeditions and explorations. One of the premier members of the Explorers Club itself. Lady Blodgett lost him ten years ago now I think.”

India nodded, not entirely sure if Sir Blodgett had died or had simply been lost in the jungles of some hot, horrid, uncivilized country.

“Let me think, where was I?” The woman’s brow furrowed. “Oh yes, I was telling you about the founders of the society—Lady Guinevere Blodgett and her dearest friends, Mrs. Persephone Fitzhew-Wellmore and Mrs. Ophelia Higginbotham. Well, more like sisters really than friends. They were all married to men of adventure and travel, although Sir Charles was the most famous of the lot. The poor dears are all widows now, but they do indeed know a great deal about the rigors of travel and the adventures to be found on a tramp steamer traversing the globe or sailing the Nile in a felucca or—”

“So Lady Blodgett and her friends are the ones arranging tours and travel for members?” India interrupted, trying to hide her impatience.

“That would stand to reason, wouldn’t it? They are all so knowledgeable.” The woman paused. “Although I must confess, I’m not well versed in the running of the society, even though I did join shortly after it was formed. I only began to lend my assistance here last week—as a favor to Mrs. Higginbotham and the others—until someone is hired to manage the organization. The society has grown far faster than anyone ever expected.”

“The society is relatively new, isn’t it?” Yet another question India already had the answer to, but one never knew what further information one might uncover by pretending to be less informed than one was.

“It began about eight months ago and was sorely needed if you ask me.” The woman’s lips pressed together in a firm line. “In this day and age there is no reason why a woman cannot travel the world if she so desires.”

“No reason except...finances.” India studied the other woman closely.

“There is that, of course. And fear of the unknown I suppose.” She shook her head. “It’s rather sad when we don’t pursue our heart’s desire because we’re afraid that it might not be as wonderful as we had hoped.”

India tried not to stare, but it was obvious this woman was the worst sort of unrealistic dreamer. “About the charges? For membership?”

“Yes, of course. One pound for a month-to-month membership or ten for a full year membership.”

“And that provides?”

“The lectures on travel—lectures are usually once a week—along with the meetings with like-minded women such as yourself. However, the majority of the monthly dues is set aside to provide future payment for arranging the details of a travel itinerary.”

“So when I decide to actually travel—” India chose her words with care “—I have already paid for any charges for the arrangement of transportation, hotels, tour guides, that sort of thing?”

“For the most part, although I believe there is also another, relatively insignificant fee. To pay for additional expenses incurred in the arranging of itineraries. To be expected, of course.” The woman picked up a printed form from a stack of papers. “Now then, if you would fill this out, you may bring it, along with payment, if you decide to return. There is no charge for your first lecture.”

“How very generous.” Or clever.

“Not at all,” the blonde said, rising to her feet and handing India the paper. “You can’t fail to delight in Lady Blodgett’s tales and sage words. If you have even the tiniest flicker of yearning for the excitement of travel, Lady Blodgett will fan it to a full blaze.” She smiled. “I should introduce myself. I’m Miss Honeywell and I have no doubt you’ll be joining us.”

“I am Miss Prendergast—” India nodded curtly “—and I suspect you’re right.” Again that annoying sense of guilt stabbed her. She simply wasn’t used to deception. “How many members do you have?”

“We’re up to more than ninety, I believe.”

“That’s most impressive.”

“It is indeed. The society first met in Lady Blodgett’s parlor, but now there are entirely too many of us for that. Because of the ladies’ husbands’ long association with the Explorers Club, the society was allocated an office here and permitted to use this room for meetings and lectures three days a week.”

“How very generous.”

The other woman scoffed. “They couldn’t very well turn down the request of the widow of Sir Charles Blodgett.”

“I would think not.” India forced a note of indignation to her voice. Not at all difficult as indignant was the very least of her feelings. If the society had been more forthright and responsive to India’s inquiries about Heloise in the first place, she never would have suspected the questionable nature of the organization. Nor would she have begun asking questions, the answers to which were less than satisfactory. “Do tell me about Lady Blodgett and the others. They sound lovely.”

“Well, I have known Mrs. Higginbotham for a number of years. She and the others knew my...”

Either Miss Honeywell was the most sincere woman India had ever met or she was an accomplished actress. The more the blonde waxed on about the virtuous Lady Blodgett and her cohorts, the more India suspected Miss Honeywell was a total innocent. And India had always trusted her ability to assess character.

If the three ladies were as guiltless as they seemed to Miss Honeywell, perhaps there was indeed a man behind the scenes manipulating the old dears like a master puppeteer. That was the speculation of Inspector Cooper of Scotland Yard. He had spoken to India at the request of Sir Martin. But as dashing as he was with his slightly unkempt fair hair and his air of solid authority, he was most annoying in his refusal to understand that Heloise’s disappearance was a matter of grave concern. The man pointed out that her cousin’s lack of communication was no doubt due to the inferior mail services in other countries. He had added, in a vaguely chastising manner, that aside from all else, Heloise was an adult, accompanied by another adult, and was more than likely having such a grand time she’d simply forgotten about writing home. Nor would he acknowledge there was anything at all suspicious about the Lady Travelers Society. And, given there had been no complaints about the society, there was nothing the authorities could do. India had certainly complained quite loudly but apparently the complaints of one lone woman were insufficient. As he had made his pronouncements with such an amused, condescending gleam in his eye, it was all India could do not to smack the smirk from his face.