“Of course not.”

“Then how did you know—”

“My dear boy.” She shook her head. “Do you really think I would allow you to be smitten with a woman I know nothing about?”

“Smitten?”

“You needn’t deny it. I am your mother, I know these things. While India and I were refurbishing her wardrobe, Stephen made a few inquiries into her background. Naturally, Sir Martin, as her employer, was also of interest.”

“Naturally.”

She slanted him a sharp look. “Sometimes, I cannot tell if you’re annoyed or amused.”

“I’m not annoyed, Mother. I’m most appreciative.” He smiled. “Although it was not necessary. I did the same thing before we left London. And I suspect India made inquiries about me, as well.”

“How very clever of her.” She smiled in a too-smug manner. “I have always wanted an intelligent woman for you. And for your brother, as well. Beauty is fleeting, but a clever woman will keep you on your toes for the rest of your days.”

He chuckled. “You want that for me, do you?”

“Good Lord, Derek.” She cast him a wry look. “You would be quite unbearable otherwise.”

* * *

“WELL?” MARTIN CROSSED his arms over his chest in the manner of a parent reprimanding a child. He could not have picked a worse stance. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What do I have to say for myself?” India could scarcely get out the words. Aside from any number of times since she’d met Derek, she didn’t think she’d ever been quite so furious with a man in her life.

“You are supposed to be searching for poor Lady Heloise and instead I find you in a grand mansion in the heart of Paris in the arms of a scoundrel you wished to see thrown in prison!”

“Yes, well, I might have been wrong about that,” she snapped.

“You are never wrong! And why are you still in Paris? Shouldn’t you be traveling the continent by now?”

“We have not yet exhausted our search here.”

“You’ve been here nearly a fortnight. How difficult can it be to find one mere woman? I found you easily enough.”

“Then I suggest you attempt it, Martin!” India clenched her teeth and prayed for calm. “According to the papers, approximately one hundred thousand people attend the exposition every day, a fair percentage of them English speaking. They are at every other attraction in Paris, as well, and they have filled the hotels. It is far more difficult to find a mere woman in a crowd of her own countrymen than it is if she appeared out of place. Do you understand?”

“I understand completely. Neither you nor that cad are the least bit equipped to find a woman lost in the streets of Paris or anywhere else.” He set his jaw in a determined manner she’d never seen before. “The moment we return to London, I shall do what I should have done in the first place. I will hire someone to find Lady Heloise, and there’s to be no more discussion about it!”

She stared at him. This was not the Martin she knew. Not the man she’d worked for, and with, for eight years. This was some overbearing, pompous, arrogant tyrant of a beast who thought simply because he paid her a salary he could control her entire life.

“In which case...” She squared her shoulders. “I shall be obliged to submit my letter of resignation.”

For a long moment he stared in disbelief. Then he sighed in surrender. “Very well then, I won’t.”

“You never argue with me,” she said slowly. “You chastise, you parry—on occasion you tease. We are never at odds. You never disagree with me. Indeed, you act as if you don’t have a care in the world.” Realization widened her eyes. “Because you haven’t! Not when I’m there.”

He toyed with his collar as if it were entirely too tight and refused to meet her gaze.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re not as concerned about my safety or locating Heloise as you are that I’m gone and you have to fend for yourself.”

“Now see here, India.” An injured note sounded in his voice. “I was worried about you. Admittedly, it has been difficult for me without you. This is the first time you’ve been gone for more than a day or two in eight years and I didn’t like it.” He sighed. “I didn’t like it one bit.”

“Yet another surprise.”

“I was alone, left to my own devices. I couldn’t think—not about anything of significance. My mind kept drifting to mundane matters, like what I should tell the cook to prepare for dinner or perhaps I should look at the morning post or what I should wear to Wednesday’s lecture.” He paused and pinned her with a helpless look. “I had no idea there were so many minuscule details to attend to in a day. It’s exhausting, India.”

“Is it?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Good God, yes. Worse, I was lonely. I am accustomed to having you to discuss with what I wish to discuss. You are an enormous part of my work and my life. I didn’t realize how important until you were gone. And I admit, I don’t like having to take care of everything, but more I don’t like you not being there.” He waved at her in a petulant gesture, like a small child. “And I don’t like that!”

“What?” She frowned. “Are you referring to my appearance?”

“Yes,” he said in a lofty manner. “I don’t like it.”

“Everyone else does. But more important—” she wasn’t sure she’d actually admitted this to herself “—I like it.”

“Well, I won’t have it. It makes you look entirely too...too attractive.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It’s an admission. I have always thought you most attractive, quite lovely really, but you never did anything to, well, display your charms.”

She choked.

“And therefore no other man seemed to see what I was well aware of. Which was most convenient.” He met her gaze directly. “I did not want to lose you.”

“Oh.” Surprise widened her eyes. She had no idea how to respond to this admission. “Even so, Martin.” She drew a steadying breath. “There was no need to follow me to another country.”

“There was every need.” He huffed. “These weeks without you have brought me to my senses.” He clasped his hands behind his back as he often did when making some sort of pronouncement. “I believe I’m in love with you, India.”

“Of course you are.”

His eyes widened. “You’re not surprised?”

“Why should I be? I take care of nearly everything in your life. Why wouldn’t you think yourself in love with me? At least at the moment.”

“Forever,” he said staunchly.

“Goodness, Martin, the timing alone is questionable. If you were in love with me, I suspect you would have had some inkling before now.”

“Oh, but I have.” He stepped toward her eagerly. “I have had far more than an inkling.”

“And yet you’ve said nothing.”

“There was no need to say anything. Life was well organized and efficient and pleasant. I didn’t have a care in the world. It wasn’t until you left that I realized how much I needed you. And loved you,” he added quickly.

“What you need—” she chose her words with care “—is someone to take care of you.”

“Part and parcel, I believe.” He studied her closely. “You cannot tell me you do not harbor some affection for me, as well.”

“I do indeed, Martin. You are my dear, dear friend. I feel for you as I imagine one might feel for a brother.”

“A brother?” He frowned.

“A cherished brother.”

“That’s not what I thought you would say. I had expected or perhaps hoped, that you...” Realization dawned on his face. “It’s that scoundrel, isn’t it? You’ve fallen in love with him.”

“Good Lord, Martin, now you’re being...” Her breath caught. Hadn’t she already suspected as much?

“I’m being what?”

“Far more perceptive than I would have thought.” She shook her head. “You may be right.”

“Of course, I’m right. It’s not at all far-fetched that you would fall in love with the first man who—”

“That’s enough, Martin,” she said in a cold tone.

“I saw the way you looked at him, and that was not—”

“That is more than enough.” She narrowed her eyes. “You have been my employer and, yes, my friend for eight years. If you wish either of those relationships to continue, you will not say another word.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I apologize.” He sighed. “That was uncalled for. I suspect that’s what jealousy does to a man. Because, you see, it should have been me.”

She considered him thoughtfully. “It probably should have.”

“There is, in most endeavors, an interval of time, usually finite, in which one might set forces in action to be of optimal benefit. A period of opportunity, if you will.” His gaze met hers. “Has ours passed?”

“I’m afraid so.” Odd to think of loving Martin with anything other than friendly affection.

“Regardless, I will warn you, India, now that I have at least realized what I want, I do not intend to give up.” He considered her thoughtfully. “What do we do now?”

“Now?” She grimaced. “I have no idea.”

What was there to do now? Oh, not about Martin, but now that she had accepted her feelings for Derek. Nothing had changed, not really. No matter what she’d said to Derek when they’d danced, she was no more suitable for him now than she had been when they first met. Was this what love did to you? Make you say things you didn’t believe simply because you were in a man’s arms.

Or did it make you believe that anything was possible, if only for the length of a dance?

Derek obviously had feelings for her. While she recognized that she had changed since they’d begun this quest for Heloise, she was not so foolish as to now believe love conquered all. Still, a man had never invaded her dreams before. Or her every waking thought. She’d never longed to be in a man’s arms, or God help her, in his bed. Would it be so wrong to give into those desires? She’d never so much as considered being intimate with a man. But then she’d never had feelings like this before, either. If Paris was all they would ever have, shouldn’t she seize whatever opportunity this adventure she’d stumbled into offered her? And really, was there a better place for seduction than Paris?

“You could marry me, you know,” he said casually.

Her attention snapped back to Martin. “What?”

He squared his shoulders. “Marry me, India.”

Surely he wasn’t serious. “But I am in love with someone else.”

“Someone entirely wrong for you.”

“Is he?”

“Of course he is. You know that as well as I.”

She was hard-pressed to deny it.

“Whereas I am perfect for you.” Eagerness sounded in his voice. “You admit you have some affection for me, and I certainly care for you. I daresay any number of married couples don’t have that between them. We could go on as we always have. Why, nothing needs to change at all.”

“Come now, Martin—everything has changed.”

“Nonsense. I refuse to accept that,” he said in a firm manner. “However, I will let the matter rest for now.”

“Good.”

She had no desire to discuss Martin’s ridiculous proposal although it would not have been quite so absurd a few weeks ago. If he’d asked her to be his wife before she’d left London, she probably would have accepted. Apparently this was something else love did to you. Once having tasted it, nothing else would suffice.

“Regarding Saunders.” Martin’s brow furrowed. “I hope your sensible nature and intelligence has not been dimmed by emotion.”

She bristled. “I assure you it has not.”

“You did not trust him when you left London.”

“And now I do,” she said firmly. “He has proven himself most trustworthy.”

“And yet you have not found your cousin.”

“No, but I am certain we will. Mr. Saunders is making every effort, but as I said, it is proving more difficult than we had hoped.” She paused. “In addition, he has acknowledged his role in the Lady Travelers Society and has given me his word that he will set everything to rights.” Or rather she was confident that he would, but Martin didn’t need to know that.

“And you believe him?”

“Yes.” She raised her chin. “I do.”

“Well, as I am not in love with him, I do not. And I assure you, should I discover any proof as to his nefarious activities, I shall contact Inspector Cooper at once.”

“I would expect you to do no less.” She paused to find the right words. “And I think you’re right—you do need a wife.”

“Excellent.” He beamed.

“But that will not be me.” She shook her head. “We shall put finding you a suitable wife on our schedule when we return.”

He considered her hopefully. “Then you will continue to be in my employ?”

“Only for as long as it takes to find my replacement.”

“I see.” He grimaced. “I’ve mucked this up terribly, haven’t I?”

“I think we have both made errors in judgment.”