Miss Prendergast gave him a grudging glance of agreement. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Being of like minds is a superb way to begin,” Aunt Guinevere said. “Now then, Miss Prendergast, did you have a chaperone in mind?”
“A chaperone?” The younger woman’s eyes widened in surprise.
Derek groaned. Of course they would need a chaperone. A man and woman—even if they did not especially like each other—could not go running across the continent together if they were unmarried. Her reputation would be ruined, and while he’d never given his own any particular concern, with Uncle Edward’s edict to straighten out his life hanging over his head, now was not the time to add to the long list of questionable behavior his uncle was keeping. Besides, this might be just what he needed to stop Miss Prendergast from accompanying him.
“A chaperone, Miss Prendergast, is essential,” he said smoothly, resisting the urge to grin. “Propriety demands nothing less. As does your own reputation, which I assume is spotless—”
Miss Prendergast’s jaw tightened. “I am willing to risk my reputation.”
“Your decision, of course. However, the reputation of the Lady Travelers Society is also at stake. As is the reputation of my aunt and her friends.” He shook his head in a regretful manner. “If it were to become known that the society, or these upstanding ladies, sanctioned an unmarried couple traveling alone together, well, surely you can understand the repercussions.”
“Scandal, Miss Prendergast,” Mrs. Higginbotham said darkly. “Nothing short of scandal.”
“We will all be ruined.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore sighed deeply. “And any chance you have for a good marriage, Miss Prendergast, will be destroyed.”
Miss Prendergast paused, obviously to summon a measure of calm, although Derek could see it wasn’t easy for her. “My concern right now is for the safety of Lady Heloise. My reputation is the very least of my worries. I am nearly thirty years of age, and the prospect of marriage is not a consideration.”
“Oh, but my dear girl.” Encouragement shone in Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore’s eyes. “You must not give up hope. I was in my thirty-first year when I met and married my dear Malcolm. One is never too old to find true love and lasting companionship.”
“And one shouldn’t throw away the possibility simply because one has reached an advanced age—”
Derek winced. No woman—regardless of excellent posture or unflattering attire—wished to be reminded of things like advanced age.
“And society says you are past your prime marriageable years. Society, Miss Prendergast—” Mrs. Higginbotham pressed her lips firmly together “—is made up of people who are unfailingly imperfect and very often have their heads—”
“Ophelia,” Aunt Guinevere warned.
“Buried in the sand,” Mrs. Higginbotham finished, then frowned at her friend. “What did you think I was going to say?”
“One never knows what you’ll say,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore murmured.
Aunt Guinevere shot both ladies a chastising look, then smiled apologetically. “You must forgive Effie. Her husband was a military man, and his language could sometimes be a bit salty. Effie forgets others are more easily offended than she is.”
Mrs. Higginbotham shrugged, but a gleam of smug amusement twinkled in her eyes.
“So you see, Miss Prendergast,” he began, “without a chaperone you cannot possibly—”
“Oh, we can arrange for a chaperone,” Aunt Guinevere said brightly. “In fact, I have a couple in mind who will do quite nicely.”
“Aunt Guinevere.” Derek aimed a pointed look at her. “There really isn’t time—”
“Nonsense, Derek,” Aunt Guinevere said. “Miss Prendergast is extremely concerned about her cousin and will no doubt go quite mad if you leave her here to wonder what you are up to and whether or not you have located dear, dear Lady Heloise. In addition, she has already vowed to follow you if need be. We really can’t have that. Why, we would certainly be to blame if something were to happen to her.” She cast Miss Prendergast a sympathetic look. “I understand completely why you would wish to go with Derek. Indeed, I think it’s quite courageous of you. If you can bear to put off departing on your quest for one additional day, the day following the day after tomorrow, I am certain the couple I have in mind will be eager to accompany you.”
The look in Miss Prendergast’s eyes softened, and for a moment, one could see how she might possibly, under certain circumstances, be considered almost attractive. “Thank you, Lady Blodgett.” She drew a deep breath. “Three days from now is acceptable.”
“Good.” Aunt Guinevere nodded with satisfaction. “I shall speak with the couple I have in mind tomorrow, and, with any luck at all, you will have your chaperones. You and Derek will want to meet them, of course.”
Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore leaned toward Miss Prendergast in a confidential manner. “It’s always wise to meet one’s traveling companions in advance. One would hate to be trapped on a journey with a companion one finds distasteful.”
Miss Prendergast shot Derek a disgusted glance. “I suspect that would be...awkward.”
“You shall join me for tea at my house to meet the couple the day after tomorrow.” Aunt Guinevere announced with satisfaction. “Now that we have that settled—”
“We have settled nothing.” Derek clenched his teeth. This was quickly getting out of hand. If he didn’t nip this in the bud right now, he’d have half of London following him around Europe. “I am not about to set off on a wild-goose chase—”
Miss Prendergast gasped. “I beg your pardon. This is my cousin. She is not a wild goose.”
“Very well then.” He struggled to keep his voice level. “A missing-goose chase—” Miss Prendergast’s eyes narrowed “—dragging three people, their respective mounds of luggage and servants.” He pinned her with a hard look. “How many lady’s maids do you intend to bring with you, Miss Prendergast?”
Her chin rose. “I am more than capable of seeing to my own needs, Mr. Saunders. I can function perfectly well without a maid.”
“Then you’re the first woman I’ve met who can.”
“Derek,” Aunt Guinevere said sharply. “Your objections are pointless. Miss Prendergast strikes me as the kind of woman who will not be dissuaded simply to make your life less difficult.”
“No doubt,” he said under his breath.
“Then we are agreed.” Aunt Guinevere’s gaze met his, and a subtle but distinct look of victory shone in her eyes. Of course. In one fell swoop she would vanquish the woman who could shatter the unsteady house of cards she and her friends had built as well as the man who had put a damper on her plans.
“That matter perhaps,” he said in a firm tone. “But there are still things we need to discuss before I leave.”
“I was afraid there might be.” Aunt Guinevere sighed, the gleam of victory changing to one of resignation.
Under other circumstances, Derek might feel badly about extinguishing the light in an elderly lady’s eyes, but he had already learned Aunt Guinevere and her cronies were not nearly the sweet, doddering innocents he had initially assumed.
“Very well then.” Miss Prendergast rose to her feet. “I shall be on my way.” She turned toward the door.
Derek hurried around the desk to escort her out. He opened the door and nodded. “Rest assured, Miss Prendergast. We will find your cousin.”
“Tell