‘Ah, there she is...’ Christian murmured with satisfaction.
Her look of scorn turned to a puzzled frown. ‘Am I keeping you from someone...?’
‘Not at all.’ Christian grinned widely; the first time he could remember doing so for some time. Four weeks, three days and two hours, to be exact.
‘I do not understand...’
Christian could not seem to stop himself from grinning. ‘I am very pleased, very pleased indeed, to remake your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Duprée.’
‘I am Miss Maystone now.’ Those blue eyes flashed with impatience. ‘And I have been in London these past four weeks, if you had cared to call.’
It was Christian’s turn to frown now. ‘But I have called upon you. Many times.’
‘I do not think so,’ Lisette dismissed scathingly. ‘I recall only the once, a morning visit in the presence of a dozen other people, when you did not speak so much as a single word to me but stood in a corner of my father’s drawing room looking down your haughty nose at everyone!’
‘But—’ Christian broke off to gaze across to w
here Aubrey Maystone stood in conversation with the other Dangerous Dukes and their wives. As if aware of his gaze, Maystone glanced across to where Christian and Lisette stood talking together, one iron-grey eyebrow slowly rising in mocking enquiry. ‘That wily old fox...’ Christian muttered, knowing from the challenging look Maystone was giving him that he was responsible for Lisette not knowing of the many visits Christian had made to Maystone House this past month, his only intention to see her again.
‘Quoi? I mean, I beg your pardon?’ Lisette’s cheeks blushed a becoming shade of pink at her mistake in having lapsed into her native French.
Christian gave a roar of laughter, relieved to learn that it had not been Lisette avoiding him after all, but the machinations of her interfering father. His laughter caused more than a few heads to turn in their direction; the Duke of Sutherland was not known for his public displays of levity.
‘I fail to see what is so funny in my having let down mon père by not speaking the King’s English?’ Lisette eyed him irritably.
Christian sobered a little. ‘Mon père is not “let down” but is the wily old fox to whom I referred.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Once a spymaster, always a spymaster, it would seem.’
‘Are you quite recovered from your injury, Christian—Your Grace?’ Lisette corrected hastily. ‘Do you have a fever?’ She could think of no other reason for his current strange conversation.
‘Would you care to take a stroll out on the terrace with me, Miss Duprée?’ He did not wait for her answer before tucking her gloved hand into the crook of his arm and striding off in the direction of the doors opened to prevent the room from becoming too stifling.
‘Is such behaviour quite correct, Christian?’ Lisette cast a furtive glance at the people she sensed were watching the two of them together, the women from behind their fans, the gentlemen openly speculative of the Duke of Sutherland’s obvious intention of stealing their young hostess outside onto the moonlit terrace.
‘Correct can go hang, Lisette,’ Christian dismissed happily. ‘If I do not soon taste your delectable lips and touch your creamy flesh, I am afraid I will do something that will never be forgotten, by not only those members of society present tonight but also the heirs that come after them!’
‘Christian!’ Lisette gasped her shock.
‘Lisette.’ He stood aside to allow her to precede him out onto the terrace.
She looked up at him uncertainly, unsure of Christian in this reckless mood. ‘My reputation will be ruined if I go outside alone with you.’
‘So it will,’ he acknowledged unconcernedly.
‘Can you possibly have drunk too much champagne this evening?’
‘First I am fevered. Then I am accused of neglecting you. Now you believe me to be drunk!’ He gave a brief laugh. ‘I assure you, my dearest Lisette, I am none of those things,’ he added huskily.
‘But—’
‘My wound is perfectly healed, thanks to your initial diligent care, my doctor has informed me. If I am drunk then it is with the pleasure of being in your company again, for I have not drunk so much as one glass of champagne this evening. As for being neglectful...’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘I was slightly incapacitated that first week, but I have called at Maystone House every two or three days these past three weeks.’
‘I have not seen you...’
‘No, you have not,’ Christian acknowledged drily. ‘And I have not seen you, except at a distance once or twice, as you travelled by in Maystone’s coach.’ Fleeting glimpses that had reminded him of the last time he and Lisette were in a coach together, those memories leaving him hungering for so much more than a fleeting glimpse of her. ‘Please step outside with me, Lisette, and allow me to explain.’ He looked down at her intently.
Lisette still eyed him uncertainly, so tempted to do as he asked, at the same time aware of the many eyes upon them as they stood in the open doorway, neither in nor outside of the house. ‘What is there to explain?’ she prompted slowly.
Christian glanced across at her father, the tension leaving his shoulders as he received a slight nod from the older man. Not that it would have made the slightest difference if he did not have Maystone’s blessing, but he was glad of it in any case, for Lisette’s sake.