Whichever of those it was, Lisette knew that Christian would be very displeased with her when he learned what had happened; he had tried to warn her of the dangers of leaving the house alone. She, with her usual stubbornness, had thought she knew better and had refused to believe there could possibly be anyone in England who might want to harm her.
Her reward for that naivety was to be held prisoner in this dark room, gagged and bound.
With the added worry that, as she was nothing more than a rebellious nuisance to Christian, he may not feel inclined to pay a ransom for her release even if one should be demanded.
The situation was dire enough to make her sit and cry. If self-pity had been in her nature. And if she thought it would have done any good.
It was not, and she knew crying would only make her feel more miserable when her mouth was gagged and her hands tied.
No, she had no choice but to remain in this unpleasant place until such time as she was either released or—
Lisette did not wish to contemplate what that or might be.
* * *
‘Well, of course I will go to Westminster Bridge and meet with these people tonight, Christian,’ Maystone assured him testily as Christian scowled down at him as he sat in a chair in his own drawing room. ‘It is not a question of whether I go or not.’
‘Then what is it a question of?’ Christian was too restless to be seated himself, preferring to pace the room instead.
The older man sighed heavily, his face pale. ‘What might be demanded of me in exchange for Miss Duprée’s release.’
Christian was well aware of the demons of hell Maystone had suffered for weeks, when his loyalty to the Crown prevented him from yielding the information demanded of him in exchange for his grandson’s safe return.
The same demons of hell Christian had been suffering since he had received word of Lisette’s abduction. Which, in actual time, had only been a matter of just over an hour.
It seemed much longer.
As he knew the five hours until midnight would seem interminable.
Christian’s mouth thinned. ‘Whatever it is they want, you will give it to them.’
The older man looked up at him regretfully. ‘You know I cannot do that, Christian.’
Yes, he did know that; if Maystone had been unwilling to give in to blackmail in exchange for his grandson’s life, then he was unlikely to do so for a young woman he had only met for the first time earlier today. A young woman, moreover, who was known to be the illegitimate daughter of the same woman who had organised the kidnapping of Maystone’s grandson.
‘I think we may both safely assume that this unpleasant business does at least confirm Lisette to be innocent of all wrongdoing,’ Maystone proffered gently. ‘Unless, of course, she was aware of this plan all along and is in cahoots with her supposed abductors...?’
The idea had also occurred—very briefly—to Christian and been just as quickly dismissed. Lisette had been brought to London against her will or intention. And the Lisette who had offered to become his mistress earlier today simply did not have it in her to behave in so underhand a manner.
She was infuriating, rebellious to the point of endangering her own safety, but he believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lisette was not, and never could be, a liar.
He glared at Maystone. ‘You will give these people whatever they demand for her safe return,’ he growled.
Maystone surged impatiently to his feet at Christian’s accusing tone. ‘You know of my limitations in that regard as well as I, Christian.’
‘Damn it to hell—!’ Christian wanted to put his fist through something in order to vent his frustration and anger.
Every minute that passed was one more minute he could not be sure if Lisette still lived; she would not be the first kidnap victim to have been disposed of shortly after being taken, the kidnappers’ only interest in the ransom. His only consolation was that Maystone’s grandson had been found unharmed, if badly shaken.
But even that was of little comfort. Worthing had a point earlier; the people who had Lisette could not be the same ones who had taken the boy because they were currently incarcerated in prison, awaiting trial.
‘I understand how you are feeling, Christian,’ Maystone consoled him.
Christian was not sure how he was ‘feeling’, so he very much doubted that the other man could possibly know or understand either.
On the one hand, Christian felt almost paralysed with worry as to Lisette’s safety.
On the other, he wanted to do something—something tangible towards facilitating her return.
He was also furious with Lisette for her recklessness, at the same time as he needed to hold her in his arms and reassure himself that she was safe and unharmed.
So many mixed emotions, all running around inside him, with Lisette at the heart of all of them.
The heart...
Christian was an educated man, and that intellect told him that emotions came from a person’s head and not their heart, as the romantics liked to wax lyrical.
But if that was so, then why had his chest ached so much since he learned of Lisette’s abduction? As if a heavy weight had been placed upon it, restricting his breathing and making him feel nauseous.
‘She will not allow her to be harmed, Christian.’
‘She?’ He looked sharply at Maystone.
The older man sighed. ‘Helene Rousseau.’
‘We cannot be sure she is behind this.’
‘I am.’ Aubrey Maystone moved to replenish his brandy glass, holding the decanter up questioningly to Christian and replacing it back on the tray when he gave an impatiently dismissive shake of his head.
‘How so?’ Christian finally prompted irritably when he could stand the other man’s silence no longer.
Maystone looked at him with calm blue eyes. ‘Because I believe I now know the reason that I, and my grandson in particular, was made the target two months ago.’
‘Which is?’
The other man closed his eyes briefly before opening them again to reveal a look of stoic resolve. ‘I was not always the elderly man you now see before you, Christian. I was once a young man very like you and the other Dangerous Dukes.’ He gave a self-derisive twist of his lips in the semblance of a smile. ‘I too wanted to set right the wrongs in the world, craved adventure, intrigue—’
‘I do not see—’
‘—was impatient with the caution of others,’ Maystone continued pointedly. ‘Believed that action was what was needed, not talk and political compromise.’
Christian’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides. ‘If there is a point to this conversation, Aubrey, then I wish you would get to it!’
The older man sighed. ‘There is a point, but it is not one I can share with you just yet. Suffice to say,’ he continued when Christian would have interrupted, ‘if I am still alive when this is all finally over, I shall be resigning my post.’
‘If you are still alive...?’
‘Have you not accepted yet that I have been the target all along?’ He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘A very personal, very definite target.’
‘Why should you think that?’ He stared at the other man incredulously.
‘I have been compromised, Christian, and in a way I could never have expected.’ He gave another deep sigh before brightening. ‘But we will get your Lisette back to you—’
‘She is not my Lisette—’
‘No?’ Maystone raised iron-grey brows. ‘Well, never mind that for now,’ he continued briskly. ‘For the moment you and I are going to eat dinner together—’
‘I cannot eat whilst Lisette is no doubt alone and frightened as to what will happen to her!’
‘We will eat dinner together,’ Maystone repeated firmly. �
��Discuss the weather, and all those other boring subjects that are considered correct conversation in polite society, and then at midnight we will go to Westminster Bridge and retrieve Lisette. Trust me, Christian.’ The other man placed a reassuring hand on his arm. ‘No harm will come to her.’
Somehow the other man’s words of reassurance had the opposite effect on Christian; he was now more worried than ever that before the night was out someone was going to die.
Chapter Thirteen
Lisette knew that in her present circumstances she should not be admiring the beauty of her surroundings as she stood on the bridge between her two abductors. One of which she knew to be Davy, the other remaining silent and hidden beneath that cloak, kerchief and the hat pulled low over his eyes.
She should not be appreciating her surroundings, but it was impossible for her not to be grateful for the fresh air she was breathing into her lungs after the stale air in that closed room. Or to be affected by the atmosphere of the night, with the gentle glow of the street lamps overhead casting shadows on the softly flowing river below.
Of course, she would have been happier if she was not still gagged and had her wrists tied behind her back, but Davy’s one attempt to remove the gag had resulted in her screaming so loudly he had proclaimed she had ‘fair deafened’ him with the noise, before he had hastily replaced it.
A nasty smelly piece of now damp rag, which literally made her want to gag every time the smell assailed her nose.
Still, she was at least out of that dark room, and with only these two men to guard her she had hoped for the possibility of escape.
Except there had been no opportunity to do so as she was pushed back into that uncomfortable cart before being brought here to this bridge, the two men now seeming to be waiting for something. Or someone.
Christian?
Lisette could not think of anyone else who would be in the least interested in whether she lived or died. After her earlier disobedience of his instruction, she was not altogether sure that Christian would be interested either.
But she could hope.
* * *
Christian could see the three figures standing beneath a guttering street lamp at the far end of the bridge as he and Maystone alighted from his carriage together. None of them looked to be very big, but he was sure that the slighter one in the middle was Lisette. He hoped and prayed the middle one was Lisette, as much as he hoped and prayed that she was unharmed.
‘The note said I must go alone, Christian,’ Maystone reminded as he placed his hat determinedly upon his head.
‘They may be armed—’
‘I too am armed,’ he reminded quietly, having hidden a pistol in the waistband at the back of his pantaloons. Not the most convenient of places for him to retrieve it, but it would not do to reveal he was armed from the onset. ‘But I doubt it will be necessary,’ he added softly, his gaze fixed on the three figures on the bridge.
Christian was also armed with a pistol, but he knew that he would never be able to make his shot anything near accurate from this distance. ‘What are you not telling me, Aubrey?’ He eyed the other man frustratedly.
Maystone gave him a calm smile. ‘Does your Lisette possess a temper, Christian?’
‘She is not— Yes,’ he confirmed impatiently as Maystone raised mocking brows. ‘Lisette has a very fine temper indeed.’
‘I believed that might be the case.’ Maystone nodded. ‘A word of advice, Christian: whatever you do, never be the one to incite that temper.’
‘Oh, I believe it is far too late for that!’ he murmured drily as he recalled the names Lisette had called him in her tirade both yesterday and again today.
‘I have no doubt you are more than up to the challenge.’ Maystone chuckled as he held out his hand. ‘I am glad to have known you, Christian.’
He slowly reached out to take that hand and return the handshake.
‘You are a man any parent would be proud to call his son.’ The older man nodded in satisfaction.
‘What—?’
‘Never fear; I will send Lisette back to you in just a few minutes.’ He straightened. ‘You will find several letters on my desk at home; if I could ask that you deliver them to the appropriate people if I should not return?’
Christian was liking the sound of this less and less.
‘Strangest thing about women,’ Maystone mused as he stared across the bridge. ‘Softest creatures on earth when they are loved, and the most vicious when they are not.’
‘Aubrey—’
‘I am not rambling, I assure you, Christian,’ he continued briskly. ‘Wait here for Lisette.’
‘But—’
‘You will do as I ask, Christian.’ The older man’s eyes glowed with determination.
Leaving Christian with no choice but to stand and watch as Aubrey Maystone began to walk across the bridge to where Lisette and her abductors waited.
* * *
Of one thing Lisette was certain; the man walking across the bridge towards them was not Christian. This man was not tall or broad enough in the shoulders to be him.
And yet he seemed to be walking purposefully towards them. Just as Lisette could also sense the increased tension in the man beside her, the one whose face was covered by the kerchief. As if he knew and recognised the man, if Lisette did not.
Except she did, of course; once the man passed beneath one of the flickering lamps, she was able to make out that he was none other than Lord Aubrey Maystone.
A man who had no reason to trust her, and surely had absolutely no interest in saving her.
‘Is that really necessary?’ He stopped just feet away to indicate the gag about Lisette’s mouth and the rope about her wrists.
‘She’s a screamer,’ Davy muttered.
Lord Maystone pinned him with his steely blue gaze. ‘You would no doubt scream too, young man, if you had been abducted and held a prisoner these past six hours or more! Remove the gag and ropes immediately,’ he instructed authoritatively.
Davy turned to look at his accomplice, as if for direction. A direction he received as the other man gave a dismissive wave of his gloved hand without once looking away from Lord Maystone.
Lisette drew in a grateful breath the moment the gag was removed from her mouth; even the pungent odour of the river was more pleasant than the smelly rag.
She was even more relieved when the cord had been removed from about her wrists. Allowing her to rub the numbed flesh and let the blood flow freely to her fingers as she stepped tentatively away from her abductors, moving more quickly as they made no attempt to stop her.
‘You are unharmed, my dear?’ Lord Maystone prompted gruffly as she reached his side.
‘No thanks to these two men,’ she confirmed with a narrow-eyed and accusing glare at Davy, who at least had the grace to shift uncomfortably.
The elderly man nodded. ‘In that case, you may return to Christian while I— You will let her go to him, Helene,’ he rasped harshly as the man with the kerchief stepped forward as if to prevent Lisette from leaving.
Helene...?
Lisette turned to look wonderingly at the man—woman?—wearing the kerchief, just in time to see that kerchief pulled down and to find herself looking into the hard uncompromising face of the woman who claimed to be her mother.
She felt the blood leach from her cheeks at the realisation that her own mother had been one of her abductors. ‘I do not understand...’
Lord Maystone gave a regretful smile. ‘I have only just begun to do so—’ He broke off as he quickly reached forward to drag Lisette behind him as Helene Rousseau drew a pistol from the waistband of the rough trousers she was wearing.
‘I said you were to come alone,’ Helene rasped in accented English, her pistol pointed not at Maystone or Lisette but
at someone behind them.
Lisette turned to see that Christian now stood just a few feet away, his own pistol aimed at Helene’s heart; his approach had been made so stealthily that none on the bridge, least of all Lisette, seemed to have been aware of him standing there until Helene was finally alerted to his presence.
Lisette gave a wince as she saw the dangerous coldness of Christian’s expression as he continued to aim his pistol at Helene. A cold intensity of purpose that prevented Lisette from gauging his mood towards her.
Although she knew that it could not be in the least favourable, when she had put not only herself in danger with her impetuousness, but now also Lord Maystone and Christian himself.
She had every intention of apologising to him for her reckless stupidity if—when they had all escaped from this situation unharmed.
In the meantime, she was still finding it difficult to believe that Helene was in London at all, let alone that she had been instrumental in her abduction. The other woman must have followed on another ship almost immediately after their own sloop had left France.
‘Put the pistol down, Helene,’ Lord Maystone was the one to instruct firmly. ‘Before someone gets hurt. Undoubtedly yourself, considering that Christian is an expert shot and unlikely to miss from such close proximity.’
Helene’s nostrils flared. ‘It is a pity my men did not succeed in disposing of him five days ago.’
Maystone chuckled ruefully as Lisette gave an indignant gasp. ‘It is as well for you that they did not, otherwise I fear we would not be having this conversation at all.’
Helene’s eyes glittered malevolently as she now turned her pistol onto him. ‘I did not come here to talk.’
‘I am well aware of it, my dear,’ Lord Maystone accepted wearily. ‘And I am completely at your service, if you could first allow Lisette and Christian to depart, and perhaps this young man?’ He indicated Davy, now standing back in the shadows.
‘I have no intention of going anywhere,’ Christian stated firmly, completely baffled as to Helene Rousseau’s presence in London, but totally aware that it boded ill for any who were acquainted with her cold ruthlessness.
Christian Seaton: Duke of Danger Page 17