Lisette could not see that there was anything more for them to discuss on the subject when she had already considered her future from all angles.
Christian had just refused the obvious choice.
She had no skills, except those of working on a farm or in a tavern. If the English taverns were anything like the one owned by Helene Rousseau, then she was more likely than not, as an unprotected young woman in a strange country, to end up one night with her skirts up to her waist and her virtue lost.
No, better by far to choose that life for herself, to choose the man for herself, rather than have it chosen for her by some unwashed lout in a dark alley.
She stood up. ‘You are right, of course, Christian. As usual,’ she added tightly.
Christian eyed her guardedly; an acquiescent Lisette was decidedly more worrying than the virago Lisette. ‘What are you up to...?’
She opened wide eyes. ‘What does this mean—“up to”?’
Christian wished he felt reassured by those innocent wide blue eyes. Unfortunately, they had the opposite effect; when Lisette looked innocent then he could be sure she was about to do something she should not.
He sighed. ‘In your case it means—what are you plotting and planning to do this afternoon, while I am resting, that you should not be doing?’
She shrugged. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
Yes, definitely plotting and planning... ‘You realise you cannot leave here, Lisette?’ He watched her closely. ‘That to do so would be dangerous?’
Her chin rose. ‘For whom?’
Christian frowned his irritation. ‘For you, of course. England is rife with French spies— This is not funny, Lisette.’ His frown turned to a scowl.
‘Of course it is.’ She continued to chuckle. ‘I am not safe in France; I am not safe in England. Where shall I be safe, Monsieur le Duc?’
With him, Christian instantly answered, and then just as quickly dismissed it again. Lisette was not safe with him, or from him; he had more than proved that in the coach earlier.
He gave a weary shake of his head. ‘I am too tired to argue with you just now, Lisette. Only give me a few hours to sleep and I promise I will be rested enough for you to argue with for as long as you wish to do so.’
‘I do not argue with you—’
‘You do nothing else!’ Christian’s voice rose, this time impatiently. ‘You are the most contrary woman— I swear that if I said the sky is blue that you would argue it was pink.’
She wrinkled her pretty nose. ‘Sometimes it is. Have you never seen the sunset when—?’
‘I am going to bed, Lisette,’ he announced flatly as he walked determinedly across the room to the door. ‘Try to behave yourself in my absence.’
Lisette kept her chin raised high until Christian had left the bedchamber and then, only then, did she allow her shoulders to droop dejectedly.
She had buried all her scruples, her dreams for the future, had done the unthinkable and offered to become Christian’s mistress, and he had rejected the idea totally. There had not been the slightest hesitation or doubt. He did not want her.
He could not have told her any more clearly that she had only been an amusement to him in Paris, a diversion on the journey here, one he did not need or want now that he was back in London and was once again every inch the Duke of Sutherland.
* * *
‘What do you mean she went out, Evans?’ Christian demanded. ‘Where did she go? And when?’
His butler looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Miss Duprée went out for a walk, possibly two hours ago, Your Grace.’
‘Where?’ he repeated forcefully, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Christian really had been exhausted by the time he had reached his own bedchamber earlier, and he had not even bothered to undress before dropping weakly down on top of the bed and falling into a deep sleep.
His valet had woken him several hours later, armed with a cup of tea to refresh him and hot water in which to bathe. Christian had enjoyed the luxury of the latter long after his valet had completed his shave and the bath water had become cold.
The bandage on his thigh had come off quite easily after his soak in the bath, and he was relieved to see that the wound was healing well once he had removed the soiled bandage upon stepping from the bath. He had also managed to reapply a fresh bandage himself; he certainly did not need any gossip below stairs concerning how he had acquired such a wound.
Once he was dressed he had gone downstairs in search of Lisette, only to be told that she was not there. Which had the effect of completely undoing all the good work of the previous hours of sleep, followed by the relaxation in the bath.