But she had no doubt that, by leaving the tavern in the hurried way that she had last night, repugnant as returning to the Fleur de Lis was to her, if she did not go back to collect the few belongings she had, she now literally owned no more than the clothes she stood in—sat down in.
Chapter Six
‘I— But just yesterday, you said you had no plans to leave Paris as yet...’
Christian, having just told Lisette when she came to his bedchamber that evening that he had arranged passage for them both to go to England later tonight, could well understand her surprise.
He had kept his promise not to stir from his bed, but otherwise he had not been idle during the hours Lisette slept. Besides receiving continual updates on Pierre’s condition—which seemed to be improving, thank God—and arranging passage to England for himself and Lisette, Christian had also sent out for several gowns and other female apparel for her.
She had protested, of course, but Christian had then pointed out that she could not continue to wear the soiled black gown. He was, after all, the reason she did not have anything but that soiled—and unattractive—black gown to wear.
The ordering of three new gowns had also allowed Christian to choose colours for her other than black. The deep purple gown she now wore and the pale and dark grey of the other two gowns were also mourning colours, but so much less sombre than that funereal black.
A mourning which he now knew to be for her uncle, the French spy André Rousseau.
Much as he might wish it, Christian knew he could not ignore or forget that fact.
His mouth firmed. ‘You must know as well as I that the events of last night have necessitated changing my plans somewhat. As well as your own,’ he continued softly. ‘You already told me you intended leaving the tavern today anyway and it would perhaps be as well if you did not go back there at all. Unless there are things of your own there you cannot bear to be parted from?’
She grimaced. ‘I have very few personal possessions...’
‘Then leave them for now. There is no reason why you cannot claim them at a later date,’ Christian added as she still hesitated.
She frowned. ‘Even so, that does not mean I have any intention of travelling to England with you.’
&n
bsp; Christian would much rather that Lisette came with him willingly; after all that she had done for him, he did not relish the idea of forcing her into accompanying him.
He wished he did not have to take her to England with him at all, knowing what fate awaited her there. But after last night he could not see a future for her here in Paris either. And if Lisette was as innocent as he believed her to be, then surely, once Aubrey Maystone had questioned her and realised her innocence for himself, Christian might be able to find a place for her in an English household, as a companion or governess, perhaps?
Perhaps his sister Julianna, expecting her first child in a few months’ time, might even be persuaded into engaging Lisette as a nanny for the child?
‘Parlez-vous anglais?’ Christian asked her, to which she gave a firm shake of her head. ‘Then I shall have someone teach you the rudiments of the language once we are in England.’
‘Why?’
‘You cannot live in another country and not speak the language.’ He eyed her frustratedly.
Whilst Lisette looked totally refreshed after her rest, and the purple gown was most becoming to her creamy complexion and tidily upswept red hair, Christian was feeling decidedly tired and not a little bad-tempered after his busy day making the necessary arrangements for their departure from Paris. It was now early in the evening and his thigh throbbed like the very devil from his daytime exertions.
Lisette’s eyes widened. ‘Even if I were to agree to accompany you now, I would not remain in England longer than it takes to see you are safely returned.’
‘I doubt your mother will welcome you back when, to all intents and purposes, you spent the night here with me, before then travelling to England with me,’ Christian pointed out gently.
‘She is not my mother! Biologically, perhaps,’ Lisette conceded reluctantly as Christian raised surprised brows. ‘But I do not know her, had never even met her or knew of her existence until two months ago.’
‘That is...hard to believe,’ he murmured cautiously.
‘Why is it?’ Lisette stood up restlessly.
She now felt refreshed from her hours of sleep. Enough so that she had given thought to her present dilemma, and although she might accept that going to England with the Comte seemed the logical choice—the safest choice—for the moment, she could not think of remaining there. She was French, knew no other life than the one she had led with the Duprées, and briefly with Helene Rousseau here in Paris. One life was closed off to her, the other she had no wish to re-enter.
Even so, Lisette knew nothing of England or the English, apart from the fact they had been at war with France, under Napoleon’s rule, for so many years.
She gave a shake of her head. ‘I am sure I cannot be the first bastard child you have ever heard to have been fostered with strangers.’
‘Unfortunately not,’ he acknowledged tightly. ‘But it is usual for that child to be aware they are being fostered. And who their real mother is.’