Was Lisette imagining the question in Christian’s voice as he made that last comment? Did he doubt her claim of knowing nothing of Helene Rousseau’s existence until just weeks ago?
‘I assure you I did not,’ she answered him tartly. ‘Nor do I have any idea who my father is.’
‘Madame Rousseau has not confided in you?’
‘No.’ Lisette stood in front of the window, the slowly flowing Seine glittering like silver in the moonlight. ‘I am not sure I wish to know either, considering the...the type of man I know frequents the Fleur de Lis.’ She repressed a shudder of distaste at the thought of one of the loutish and lowly men she had encountered there these past few weeks being her father.
Christian could totally sympathise with this sentiment after his visit to that establishment the evening before.
‘Which brings me to another point, mon—Christian,’ she corrected at his frowning glance. ‘Whatever you may have assumed to the contrary, I am nothing like Helene Rousseau. I have not, nor do I intend to take a lover or series of lovers.’ Embarrassed colour glowed in her cheeks.
No doubt from thinking of the kisses the two of them had shared the night before. Far from innocent kisses, which could so easily have led to something deeper.
Christian’s mouth twisted into a smile. ‘I believe you will find I am somewhat...incapacitated, in any case, in that regard at present!’
‘I am glad you find me so amusing, Christian.’ She shot him an irritated glance for this show of levity. ‘But your wounds will eventually heal.’
‘You then expect I shall proposition you into agreeing to become my mistress?’ Christian was finding this conversation less and less amusing by the minute.
Her cheeks flushed prettily. ‘I can think of no other reason why you might take me to England with you.’
Christian wished that were the case! ‘And if I were to make you a promise that I shall attempt not to do so?’
She blinked. ‘Are you making me such a promise?’
Christian’s jaw tightened. ‘That I will promise not to attempt to do so, yes.’
She gave a typically Gallic sniff. ‘Then I suppose that will have to do. But I still maintain that you cannot seriously expect to be able to travel back to England tonight. You will need to rest for several more days before even contemplating such a journey.’
‘Whilst I have every confidence in François and my other employees here,’ Christian bit out, ‘I do not wish to put any of them in further danger by remaining in Paris longer than is necessary. I am well enough to travel to the ship later this evening,’ he continued as she would have spoken. ‘After which time I will retire to my cabin and, with your assistance, continue to rest for the remainder of the journey ho—to my estates in England.’ He inwardly cursed himself for almost slipping up and calling England ‘home’.
He knew he would have to reveal the truth of his identity before they docked in England. He had already sent on ahead for his ducal coach to be waiting for them at the quayside when they arrived. But, as he’d already decided, he would not do so until the ship was well under way and Lisette had no choice but to accompany him.
His appeal for her assistance on the journey, of playing upon the softness of her heart, was his way of ensuring she accompanied him.
Christian deplored even that subterfuge in regard to this young woman who had surely saved his life the previous night. And he fully intended to make his feelings on the subject known to Aubrey Maystone when he made his report to the older man; Lisette was not to come to any harm or Maystone would answer directly to him. But, powerful as the Duchy of Sutherland undoubtedly was, Christian knew that would still be no guarantee in regard to Lisette’s future safety.
‘I suppose that will have to do, if you are set on the idea...’
‘I am,’ Christian confirmed tautly. ‘To that end, François has already arranged for my bags to be packed and the coach to be ready to leave for the docks in one hour’s time.’ And on this occasion Christian would ensure that the groom and driver accompanying them would be armed and ready to fight off anyone who tried to stop them from reaching the dockside.
Lisette realised, by the determined set of the Comte’s jaw, that nothing she had to say would succeed in persuading him into altering those plans.
Having only just removed and hung up her new gowns and put away the pretty undergarments, Lisette now realised she would have to repack them all; grateful as she was for the new clothes, she still blushed to think of the intimacy of having Christian Beaumont order such things for her. No matter what he said to the contrary, it had the definite feel of a patron bestowing largesse upon his mistress.
Perhaps once she was in England, she would be able to find respectable employment for a time, and in that way repay him for the purchase of the new gowns and undergarments?
If so, Christian was right; she would need to learn and speak English. ‘Very well, monsieur.’ This time Lisette ignored his frown of disapproval; if they were to travel to England together, then the formalities must be maintained in order to keep a distance between the two of them. A distance that had already been breached. Several times... ‘I will return to my bedchamber and pack my own things now, and be ready to leave within the hour.’
Christian nodded his approval; he could not abide a woman who fussed and flounced and generally made a hullaballoo when it came to doing anything asked of her. Not that he had expected that of Lisette; she had already shown, time and time again, that she was made of much sterner stuff than to throw a tantrum because her plans had taken a sudden turn.
And he would protect her once they were in England, he vowed fiercely.
Against all and anyone who tried to harm her.
* * *
‘I had no idea that sailing could be so invigorating as this!’ Lisette smiled her happiness as she swept into Christian’s cabin aboard the elegant sloop the following morning.