‘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!