She had behaved the fool, she realised. A stupid, naive fool, to have believed for one moment that the Comte had any more than a passing interest in her—an interest that had obviously ‘passed’ now that she had made it clear she did not intend to spend the night here with him.
She raised her chin. ‘I am ready to leave now.’
Christian knew by the stiffness of Lisette’s demeanour that he had thoroughly succeeded in alienating her when he’d informed her that he intended to go out again. As had been his intention. His mission in Paris had been clear: to watch Helene Rousseau and make note of the comings and goings of the Fleur de Lis.
It had occurred to him earlier to use an interest in one of the tavern’s serving girls to enable him to observe Helene Rousseau and the movements of her co-conspirators. Unfortunately, his choice of Lisette as the focus for that interest seemed only to have antagonised the older woman, so bringing more attention to himself.
Helene Rousseau’s threats towards him, because of the interest he had shown in Lisette, now meant that his time in Paris was in all probability limited, if he did not want to end up dead in a filthy alley one night.
Chapter Four
‘Where have you been?’
Lisette, having just closed and locked the window behind her, after climbing back into the storeroom at the back of the tavern, now gave a gasp of shock as she turned to face her accuser.
Helene stood in the doorway in her night robe, her tall frame silhouetted by the candle left burning outside in the hallway, her hair loose about her shoulders, eyes glittering with her displeasure. ‘I asked where you have been,’ she repeated harshly.
Lisette swallowed, her lips having gone dry. ‘I could not sleep— I went— I thought to—’ She faltered as she realised that nothing she said was going to excuse the fact that she had obviously left the tavern sometime earlier tonight and was now sneaking back in again. Or change the fact that Helene had somehow discovered her disappearance. ‘I went for a walk.’ Her chin rose in challenge.
Helene reached for the candle in the hallway, bringing the light into the room to illuminate the stored barrels and sacks, as well as a defiant and no doubt dishevelled Lisette; how could she be any other when she had been climbing in and out of a window?
‘You went to Saint-Cloud.’ Helene’s nostrils flared with distaste. ‘Do not attempt to deny it; I saw you arrive back just now in his carriage.’
Lisette’s heart sank. She had told Monsieur le Comte, had in fact pleaded with him to let her depart the carriage in the street adjoining this one, but he would have none of it. Had instead insisted on bringing her to the back door of the tavern and waiting in his carriage until he was sure she had climbed safely back inside. She had seen his carriage depart as she closed and locked the window.
Well, the Comte was now gone, she was ‘back inside’, but the fury in Helene’s expression did not augur well for it being ‘safely’.
Helene carefully placed the lit candle down on top of one of the barrels. ‘I told you earlier that I did not approve of you associating any further with the Comte.’
‘I do not believe you actually told me not to—’
‘Do not contradict me, Lisette.’ The woman who was her mother glared at her furiously. ‘The Comte is a dangerous man.’
‘He has always behaved the gentleman towards me,’ Lisette defended, her cheeks burning as she knew that was not strictly true; after all, he had kissed her, not once, but twice.
Helene gave an impatient shake of her head at that telling blush. ‘You have not only openly defied me by meeting secretly with the Comte, but defiled your own reputation at the same time—’
‘I have done nothing wrong!’ she asserted heatedly.
‘I do not believe you.’
‘I do not care—’ She broke off with a pained gasp as Helene’s hand struck out at her face. Hard.
Lisette raised a shocked hand as she felt the sting of pain and then the flow of blood on her bottom lip, her fingers covered with the sticky redness when she looked down at them through tear-filled eyes.
No one had ever struck her before this. Not for any reason.
She kept her hand pressed against her bleeding lip as she glared her defiance at the older woman. ‘That was truly unforgivable!’
‘No more so than your own behaviour has been tonight.’ Helene looked at her coldly, unrepentantly. ‘I did not bring you to Paris so that you could whore yourself for the first titled gentleman to show you attention.’
‘Then why did you bring me here?’ Lisette challenged, chin held high. ‘You do not care for me. You do not even acknowledge me as your daughter,’ she added scornfully as she remembered what the Comte had said to her earlier. ‘What am I even doing here?’
Helene gave a snort. ‘What else was I supposed to do with you once I learned the Duprées were both dead?’
Lisette felt a fresh sting of tears in her eyes at this woman’s total lack of feeling for her.
If she had needed any confirmation of that, after Helene had just struck her without warning or sign of regret.