Christian felt sick at the very thought of travelling to London today. But did he really have a choice? Marcus would return to London today regardless, and with Christian unable to move from his bed, Lisette would then be free to roam Portsmouth. With the idea of making contact with one of her mother’s cohorts? Christian knew that he could no longer trust his own judgement in regard to Lisette.
He breathed deeply in resignation. ‘If you will allow me to rest for a few hours, Marcus, Lisette and I will accompany you back to London later today—’
‘I am not going to London—’
‘I think that might be for the best, Christian.’
Lisette and the Duke of Worthing spoke at the same time, the one to protest the idea, the other to agree to it.
Lisette gave the Duke of Worthing a disapproving frown before stepping back into the bedchamber to glare at Christian Seaton. ‘I do not wish to go to London, and you cannot travel anywhere in your present condition!’
He gave a weary shrug. ‘I believe I must.’
‘You will undo all of my efforts to prevent your wound from becoming inflamed if you attempt to do so,’ Lisette maintained stubbornly as she came to stand beside the bed.
Christian looked up at her ruefully. ‘I would have thought such discomfort might please you, considering the names you called me a short time ago?’
Lisette blushed at the memory of some of the names she had called him in temper. Not wholly undeserved, but still...
She raised her chin. ‘You have deceived me,’ she stated. ‘Nor does your duplicity have anything to do with this present conversation.’
‘No?’
‘No!’ she snapped impatiently. ‘I have spent the past twenty-four hours ensuring that you have every opportunity to recover from your wound.’
‘And, if I am not mistaken, just minutes ago you consigned me to the devil—’
‘Much as I am enjoying this exchange,’ Marcus Wilding cut in drily, ‘I do not see that it is achieving much.’
‘Oh, do be quiet, Marcus!’
Lisette continued to glare at the Duke of Worthing. ‘Christian—His Grace, received a bullet wound to his thigh only two nights ago. The voyage to England was madness, this—travelling to London today—would be even more so.’
Christian felt Marcus’s gaze on him as Lisette spoke. ‘You really were shot...?’
He grimaced. ‘A trifle—’
‘The bullet passed straight through the flesh of your thigh,’ Lisette contradicted impatiently.
‘Julianna is going to be most displeased.’ Marcus gave a wince. ‘I assured her you would be in no danger during your visit to France.’
‘That was rather reckless of you, Marcus,’ Christian Seaton drawled.
The other man shrugged. ‘I did not want her to worry in her condition.’
‘Even so...’
‘When you two gentlemen have quite finished!’ Lisette frowned her frustration at them both. ‘Thank you,’ she bit out when she once again had the attention of both gentlemen. ‘You are not going anywhere today,’ she informed Christian. ‘And neither are you,’ she instructed the other man. ‘If Christian must go to London, then it will have to be tomorrow, after he has rested today and had a night’s sleep, and you will have to accompany him. I am sure, for the sake of her brother’s health, that your duchess will not mind your absence for one night.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that—’
‘I should give it up, if I were you, Marcus,’ Christian advised as he saw the implacability of Lisette’s expression. ‘When Mademoiselle Lisette takes on that particular mutinous expression, I have found it is in everyone’s interest not to argue with her!’
Marcus’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.
Not surprisingly; Marcus was well aware that Christian’s outwardly charming disposition hid a will of steel. It must be something of a surprise to the other man to learn that Christian appeared to have more than met his match in ‘Mademoiselle Lisette’.
It had come as something of a surprise to Christian, after his assumption that first evening that she was a shy innocent.
‘And while I am “resting and sleeping”, what will you be doing...?’ He now eyed Lisette guardedly.
‘I will be out seeking employment and somewhere to stay whilst I earn the money to pay for my passage back to France,’ she informed him pertly.
‘Absolutely not.’ Christian spoke firmly.
Those blue eyes sparkled with rebellion. ‘You are a...’ She trailed off, obviously not finding a word that adequately expressed her frustration. ‘You do not have the right to tell me what I may or may not do— You find something amusing, Your Grace?’ Lisette looked challengingly at Marcus Wilding as he began to chuckle.
This added challenge only seemed to increase the other man’s humour rather than quell it, Marcus now consumed with laughter as he placed an arm about his waist before bending over slightly.
Christian allowed his friend his few moments of amusement at his expense, only too well aware of the reason for it; Christian Seaton, the Duke of Sutherland, was a man that few dared cross let alone berate and rebuke. Lisette had just done both.
‘Oh, good Lord!’ Marcus was wiping tears of laughter from his cheeks when he finally straightened. ‘Never thought I would see the day!’ He continued to chuckle. ‘Wait until the other Dangerous Dukes hear about this.’
‘Dangerous Dukes?’ Lisette echoed guardedly.
‘I will explain another time.’ Christian dismissed her question with a pointed frown at Marcus; the six friends, the Dangerous Dukes, had earned that title because of their exploits in the bedchamber as much as their work for the Crown. Lisette already had enough of a bad opinion of him at the moment, without adding to it. ‘I suggest, whilst I rest, that Marcus accompanies you down to luncheon. You have to eat, Lisette,’ he added cajolingly as she looked set to refuse the suggestion.
It had been several hours since Lisette enjoyed a breakfast of fruit and bread aboard the sloop. Besides, she had no money as yet to be able to buy her own lunch. There was a time for pride and a time for practicality, and her empty stomach decided that luncheon fell into the latter category. ‘If Monsieur le Duc is agreeable.’ She gave the other man a polite smile.
‘As if butter would not melt in her mouth,’ Marcus noted admiringly.
‘Monsieur?’ Lisette looked at him in innocent enquiry.
‘Never mind.’ The Duke of Worthing ruefully shook his head before turning to Christian, who gave a pained groan as he attempted to once again lie down upon the bed. ‘Do you think you will be well enough to travel to London tomorrow?’ He frowned his concern. ‘Perhaps we should call a doctor—’
‘Le Duc has refused to have a doctor attend him.’ Lisette shrugged her shoulders.
Christian completed his struggle to lie prone on the bed before answering her. ‘Why call for a doctor when I have you to care for me, my dear Lisette?’ He gave her a sweetly insincere smile.
Lisette was still angry with him, had no wish to find this man in the least amusing, nor did she wish to smile at his sarcasm, and yet she did not seem able to stop herself. ‘I will not be here to attend to you after tomorrow,’ she conceded exasperatedly; one more night, spent in the comfort of this inn, would not make too much difference to her ultimate plan to leave the company of Christian Seaton. ‘Come, Monsieur le Duc, let us go and eat luncheon together.’ She rested her gloved hand in the crook of Marcus Wilding’s arm.
Christian scowled as Marcus shot him a mocking glance over his shoulder as he and Lisette departed the bedchamber together in search of the dining room downstairs.
Not that he was in the least troubled by thoughts of Marcus charming Lisette—as the other man had charmed so many other ladies before his marriage to Julianna. No, Christian had
no such fears where his friend was concerned, knew of his complete devotion to Julianna; it was the fact that he was giving the matter any thought at all that he found so disturbing.
As he found the idea of Lisette remaining in Portsmouth disturbing.
And equally impossible.
Somehow, in some way, he knew he had to persuade Lisette into accepting that she had no choice but to accompany the two men to London.
When he would have to pass her over to the tender mercies of Aubrey Maystone’s interrogation?
Not if he had anything to say about it!
And he would...
* * *
‘Perhaps if you were to sit here beside me it would help to prevent my being jostled about so much...?’ Christian looked persuasively across the carriage at Lisette.
She made no reply as she coldly returned that look; the two of them had not so much as spoken a word to each other since Christian’s carriage departed Portsmouth earlier that morning.
Christian had tried the previous evening, in every way he could, to persuade Lisette that going to London with them, talking to Maystone herself, convincing that gentleman of her innocence, was by far the best course of action.
Marcus, apparently tired of the arguments, had decided to take the matter into his own hands this morning—no doubt feeling disgruntled after a night spent away from Julianna and their bed—and simply picked Lisette up in his arms and deposited her in Christian’s coach, before instructing the groom to drive on.
Not an auspicious beginning to their journey!
Not that Marcus was the one who had to bear the brunt of Lisette’s stony silence, that gentleman having chosen to ride ahead on his horse.
Lisette had not been silent either initially, of course, as she had once again reviled Christian with a list of insults that would have made a fishwife blush. After which she had fallen into this icy silence that was, quite frankly, causing Christian far more discomfort than his thigh.
Indeed, his thigh felt a little easier today, after the long rest yesterday and a night’s sleep, and he had even managed to dress himself this morning, with Marcus’s help, and eat a little of the breakfast brought up to his bedchamber.
Food that seemed to have settled uncomfortably in his stomach as the icy silence continued between himself and Lisette. ‘I am not the one who picked you up and placed you—’
‘Only because you are not yet well enough!’ Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘If you had been, I have no doubt you would have manhandled me as uncivilly as did Le Duc de Worthing.’
Christian gave a wince. ‘Please come and sit beside me, Lisette.’
‘Why?’
Because Christian badly needed to hold her in his arms. In truth, he had thought of doing little else since she had retired early to her own bedchamber the previous evening. No doubt with the intention of plotting and planning a way in which she might leave the inn and so avoid being made to accompany him and Marcus to London today.
When he had voiced that concern to Marcus, the other man had assured him that he had placed one of the inn’s servants outside the door of Lisette’s bedchamber to prevent such an occurrence.
‘Please, Lisette.’ Christian now patted the upholstered seat beside him. ‘Or I shall be forced to come to you,’ he added softly; after all, there was only so much space for Lisette to retreat inside his ducal carriage.
‘You will do no such thing!’ Lisette frowned at him. ‘I may not like you or your friend very much at the moment, but neither do I wish you any further harm,’ she acknowledged begrudgingly, having spent many wakeful hours of the night considering her position.
There was no doubting that Helene was indeed up to something nefarious during those late night clandestine meetings with her cohorts. Nor could Lisette change the fact that she was the other woman’s daughter.
Consequently Christian could not know with any certainty that Lisette was not in cahoots with the older woman and had only accompanied him to England in order to gain information to further her mother’s plot to undermine the English government and monarchy.
Which was not to say that Lisette in any way forgave Christian for deceiving her, only that she now understood it, in part.
Unfortunately for Christian, it was not the part of her that had been so attracted to this Duc Dangereuse.
Oh, yes, Lisette understood that sobriquet too now, having charmed Marcus Wilding into confiding in her when they dined together the previous evening.
Nor was she as self-confident and self-contained as she wished to appear in front of Christian. She felt completely vulnerable in this strange country amongst people she did not know. She also feared what was going to happen to her when she arrived in London.
She set her lips firmly in an effort to stop them from trembling. ‘What are your plans for me once we reach London, Monsieur le Duc? Am I to be locked up in chains until I reveal all to this man Maystone?’ Considering she knew absolutely nothing about Helene Rousseau’s plotting and planning, and so had nothing to reveal, that might possibly be for some considerable time.
‘I did not—I will not allow anyone to “lock you up in chains”, Lisette!’ Christian huffed his impatience.
She gave a shrug of her shoulders. ‘M’lord Maystone may have other ideas.’
Christian frowned his frustration for several moments, able to see the vulnerability in Lisette’s eyes that she obviously thought to hide from him with the lashing of her tongue. Just as he recognised the stubborn set of her mouth for what it was—a determination on her part not to reveal that vulnerability.
He gave up any idea of having Lisette come to him and instead made the move to join her on the other side of the carriage. Movement, along with the jolting of the carriage, that caused him considerable pain but which he chose to ignore. He was more interested in Lisette’s welfare than he was his own; he knew everything that had been revealed to her since they arrived in England must be more than a little frightening for her. Completely in character for the young woman he had come to know, she did not wish anyone to see that fear. Least of all, him.
Her eyes widened in alarm as she obviously guessed his intention. ‘You must not—’
‘I already am, my dear Lisette,’ Christian assured her as he sank down gratefully onto the seat beside her before turning to take her in his arms. ‘The “mountain” will happily come to you if you will not come to it,’ he murmured ruefully. ‘Lisette, please,’ he cajoled as she struggled in his arms.
Lisette had no strength to remain immune to the plea in Christian’s voice, her shoulders dropping their defensive stiffness as she stopped fighting him and instead sank down against him, her head resting on his shoulder and so allowing her to hear the steady beat of his heart. ‘I have done nothing wrong, Christian,’ she said huskily.
His arms tightened about her. ‘I know.’
‘Do you?’ She looked up at him.
‘Yes.’
‘How do you know?’
He gave a regretful grimace. ‘By the fact that you really did not wish to travel to England with me, but came only for my comfort. By the fact that you most certainly did not wish to travel to London today.’
‘That is true.’ Lisette eyed him guardedly. ‘But you did not seem to think that yesterday.’
‘I have had a great deal of time to think since yesterday.’ He sighed. ‘Lisette, could we perhaps make ourselves more comfortable?’
‘More comfortable?’ she echoed doubtfully; she was already seated beside him and held in his arms; how much more ‘comfortable’ could they get inside a moving carriage?
‘If I sit back this way, thus.’ Christian moved so that his back was against the side of the coach rather than the back of the seat. ‘Then I am able to do this, thus.’ He manoeuvred his injured leg so that it lay along the length of t
he seat. ‘And you can now sit, thus.’ He turned Lisette so that she now sat along the length of the seat between his legs, her back resting against his chest, her feet on the seat and her knees drawn up, his arms about her waist.
A position Lisette was not at all sure to be proper, with so much of their bodies now in such close contact, particularly her bottom nestled back against the intimate vee between Christian’s thighs.
She moistened her lips nervously. ‘Christian...?’
‘Are you about to deny me this simple pleasure, Lisette?’ His voice was husky and extremely close to her ear.
Lisette was only too well aware that she was incapable of denying this man anything. It was part of the reason she had been so defensive on the journey from France to England, and for the time they had spent at the inn together. The same reason she had been so against accompanying him to London today.
Christian Seaton was not only the most handsome man she had ever seen, but also a duke, and a man whose service was valued by the English Crown.
A man far and above her own lowly station in life—the bastard daughter of a woman who owned and ran a French tavern. The same woman Christian knew to be plotting against his own Prince Regent, and who might be—no, in all probability was!—connected to the kidnapping of this man Maystone’s young grandson.
The two of them sitting together so cosily in this carriage was ludicrous in those circumstances.
And yet...
Lisette was no longer an innocent when it came to a man’s body, and she could now feel the undeniable hardness of Christian’s lengthy arousal pressing against her.
His arms about her waist held her tightly back against him, and his hands were resting dangerously close beneath the fullness of her breasts.
She moistened her lips. ‘Christian, I do not think—’
‘I do not want you to think, Lisette,’ he groaned, his cheek now resting atop her head.
‘But—’
‘Shh,’ he encouraged. ‘We have been at odds with each other these past few days; let us now just sit here quietly and enjoy each other’s company in silence.’
Christian Seaton: Duke of Danger Page 11