He sighed deeply. ‘Following events would appear to indicate that as being the case, yes.’
‘Following—? Mon Dieu, Helene’s reason for sending her attackers against you had nothing to do with the attention you showed towards me,’ Lisette gasped in realisation, ‘and everything to do with her knowing you are an English spy?’
Christian shifted uncomfortably. ‘I do not believe I have admitted to being any such thing—’
‘You do not need to do so,’ Lisette interrupted in disgust as she began to pace the bedchamber restlessly. It all made so much sense to her now.
Helene’s warnings that night regarding associating with the Comte de Saint-Cloud.
Helene’s desire to have the Comte killed.
The fact that Lisette had found Christian lurking in a doorway across from the tavern later that evening.
He had not been waiting there for her, but spying on Helene and the people who entered the tavern after it had closed for the night.
Just as Helene had not been concerned for her welfare but instead attempting to keep her away from a man she knew to be spying on her and her associates.
It also explained the attempt of Helene’s cut-throats to kill le Duc in the middle of the street.
And their flight to England the following night.
It all made such sense to Lisette now.
Perfect—and humiliating—sense. She had thought—believed—that he had enjoyed and been as aroused by their kisses as she had, and all the time—
Christian winced as he had difficulty keeping up with—translating—the tirade in French that now followed his admission, Lisette’s accusations and insults flowing forth without pause from that highly kissable mouth. Obviously, not all of Lisette’s time at the French tavern had been wasted.
English bastard he understood. Followed by such a barrage of other insults and names he had no chance of deciphering one from the other.
Instead, he decided to lie back against the pillows and allow Lisette to give vent to her anger. He might not be able to keep up with those insults, but he did know he deserved everything she might accuse him of being.
Lisette’s shock and outrage were also further proof, if he should need it, that she really was everything she appeared to be—a young innocent caught in the middle of a dangerous game she did not know of or comprehend.
Now all Christian had to do was convince Maystone of the same.
All?
Following the abduction and kidnapping of his grandson, even if he was eventually safely returned, Aubrey Maystone was not currently in a forgiving or tolerant mood. It would take more than Christian’s opinion on the matter to persuade that gentleman into accepting Lisette’s innocence. Especially if the other man should realise Christian’s opinion was not impartial where Lisette was concerned.
As he had demonstrated only too clearly these past few days, a man could not hope to hide his physical response to a woman. And Aubrey Maystone was nothing if not astute.
Which meant that Christian—
‘Are you even listening to me?’ Lisette challenged, becoming even more outraged as she noted his distraction. ‘Of course you are not. Why should a duc care for the opinion of a woman he knows to be Helene Rousseau’s daughter, and no doubt considers to be nothing more than a French putain—?’
‘You go too far, Lisette!’ Christian’s voice was a low and dangerous growl, a warning that all who knew him would most certainly have taken heed of.
But not Lisette. ‘I will go as far as I wish, Your Grace—’ she somehow managed to make the formal title sound every bit as insulting as the word putain ‘—when you obviously misled me from the very first words you ever spoke to me!’
As those ‘very first words’ had been his false surname and title, Christian could not deny the accusation. ‘I am Christian Algernon Augustus Seaton, Fifteenth Duke of Sutherland, as well as numerous other titles, at your service, mademoiselle. I trust you will forgive me if I do not get up and present a formal bow?’ he added with self-derision for his recumbent and incapacitated figure on the bed.
Lisette’s present feelings of humiliation were such that she could forgive this—this duc nothing. Helene’s treatment of her had been hard enough to bear, but to realise, to now know, that Christian Seaton had only been using her to get close to Helene, and in the process play Lisette for the fool, was beyond forgiveness.
She straightened, her spine rigid with the anger she felt. ‘No, I do not forgive you, Your Grace. Nor do I intend remaining in your company, or your vicinity, a moment longer—’
‘You cannot leave, Lisette—’
‘I do not believe you are in any condition to prevent me from doing exactly as I wish!’ She eyed him scornfully as he sank back weakly against the pillows after having sat up abruptly, obviously with the intention of standing up, until the pain of the movement became too much for him. ‘I am not completely heartless, and will arrange for a doctor to be sent to attend you before I leave, but—’