The Lady Travelers Guide To Larceny With A Dashing Stranger. Victoria Alexander

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      “Really?” He studied her curiously. “I wouldn’t have thought you to be an enthusiast of gothic architecture. Flying buttresses and gargoyles and the like.”

      “Come now, Mr. Montague. Who can possibly resist the appeal of a well-executed flying buttress and a terrifying medieval gargoyle?”

      “Who indeed?” He grinned. “Still, I assumed you were more progressive in nature. Looking toward the future, new inventions and—”

      “It’s the story,” she blurted then sighed. “About the hunchback.”

      “Monsieur Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre-Dame?”

      She nodded. “I read it when I was a girl and to this day I cannot read it without weeping.” Even now the oddest lump formed in her throat. “It’s the saddest, most wonderful story I’ve ever read.”

      “I understand why you think it sad,” he said slowly, “and I agree with you. And while it is certainly well written, why do you think it wonderful? There was torture, betrayal, wickedness, persecution of the innocent and evil. I’ve always thought it was dreadfully dire and gloomy.”

      “It is that but ultimately it’s about love. Undying and endless and true. There is no better story than that.”

      “No, I suppose not.”

      “You look surprised, Mr. Montague. Why?”

      “I did not expect you to be quite such a—”

      “Reader of classic literature?”

      “No, I didn’t mean—”

      “Perhaps you thought I only read novels of adventure or romance?”

      “That’s not—”

      “Those offerings that are considered frivolous and not of serious literary merit?”

      “Not at all. I simply meant—”

      “I know exactly what you meant, Mr. Montague.” Willie wasn’t at all sure why she found this so annoying. In truth, she did indeed prefer more frivolous reading material. Novels and stories that were, well, fun and enjoyable rather than tedious as she considered so many classic works. “And perhaps we should add a discussion of The Hunchback—” which she should probably reread “—to our talk about the Divine Comedy—” which she should definitely read “—which I am most looking forward to.”

      He stared.

      “What is it now, Mr. Montague? Did you think a woman like myself, a woman you called legendary, based on nothing more than rumor and gossip, I might add, would not appreciate things like fine literature? That she wouldn’t have a brain in her head? Because I assure you I do.”

      The cab drew to a halt at the Champs de Mars and he helped her out of the cab.

      “Have I stunned you into silence, Mr. Montague?” A distinct touch of remorse stabbed her. Perhaps she was being just the tiniest bit too sensitive. But she’d had to use her mind since George’s death and, as she had no one to do it for her, she’d had to come up with a plan for her future survival. And she’d done a decent job of it. Admittedly, no one was more surprised than she to discover she was far more intelligent than anyone, including herself, had ever given her credit for. But then it had never been necessary before.

      “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.”

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