Christian Seaton_ Duke of Danger(61)

‘How so?’ Christian finally prompted irritably when he could stand the other man’s silence no longer.

Maystone looked at him with calm blue eyes. ‘Because I believe I now know the reason that I, and my grandson in particular, was made the target two months ago.’

‘Which is?’

The other man closed his eyes briefly before opening them again to reveal a look of stoic resolve. ‘I was not always the elderly man you now see before you, Christian. I was once a young man very like you and the other Dangerous Dukes.’ He gave a self-derisive twist of his lips in the semblance of a smile. ‘I too wanted to set right the wrongs in the world, craved adventure, intrigue—’

‘I do not see—’

‘—was impatient with the caution of others,’ Maystone continued pointedly. ‘Believed that action was what was needed, not talk and political compromise.’

Christian’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides. ‘If there is a point to this conversation, Aubrey, then I wish you would get to it!’

The older man sighed. ‘There is a point, but it is not one I can share with you just yet. Suffice to say,’ he continued when Christian would have interrupted, ‘if I am still alive when this is all finally over, I shall be resigning my post.’

‘If you are still alive...?’

‘Have you not accepted yet that I have been the target all along?’ He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘A very personal, very definite target.’

‘Why should you think that?’ He stared at the other man incredulously.

‘I have been compromised, Christian, and in a way I could never have expected.’ He gave another deep sigh before brightening. ‘But we will get your Lisette back to you—’

‘She is not my Lisette—’

‘No?’ Maystone raised iron-grey brows. ‘Well, never mind that for now,’ he continued briskly. ‘For the moment you and I are going to eat dinner together—’

‘I cannot eat whilst Lisette is no doubt alone and frightened as to what will happen to her!’

‘We will eat dinner together,’ Maystone repeated firmly. ‘Discuss the weather, and all those other boring subjects that are considered correct conversation in polite society, and then at midnight we will go to Westminster Bridge and retrieve Lisette. Trust me, Christian.’ The other man placed a reassuring hand on his arm. ‘No harm will come to her.’

Somehow the other man’s words of reassurance had the opposite effect on Christian; he was now more worried than ever that before the night was out someone was going to die.





Chapter Thirteen

Lisette knew that in her present circumstances she should not be admiring the beauty of her surroundings as she stood on the bridge between her two abductors. One of which she knew to be Davy, the other remaining silent and hidden beneath that cloak, kerchief and the hat pulled low over his eyes.

She should not be appreciating her surroundings, but it was impossible for her not to be grateful for the fresh air she was breathing into her lungs after the stale air in that closed room. Or to be affected by the atmosphere of the night, with the gentle glow of the street lamps overhead casting shadows on the softly flowing river below.

Of course, she would have been happier if she was not still gagged and had her wrists tied behind her back, but Davy’s one attempt to remove the gag had resulted in her screaming so loudly he had proclaimed she had ‘fair deafened’ him with the noise, before he had hastily replaced it.

A nasty smelly piece of now damp rag, which literally made her want to gag every time the smell assailed her nose.

Still, she was at least out of that dark room, and with only these two men to guard her she had hoped for the possibility of escape.

Except there had been no opportunity to do so as she was pushed back into that uncomfortable cart before being brought here to this bridge, the two men now seeming to be waiting for something. Or someone.

Christian?

Lisette could not think of anyone else who would be in the least interested in whether she lived or died. After her earlier disobedience of his instruction, she was not altogether sure that Christian would be interested either.

But she could hope.

* * *

Christian could see the three figures standing beneath a guttering street lamp at the far end of the bridge as he and Maystone alighted from his carriage together. None of them looked to be very big, but he was sure that the slighter one in the middle was Lisette. He hoped and prayed the middle one was Lisette, as much as he hoped and prayed that she was unharmed.

‘The note said I must go alone, Christian,’ Maystone reminded as he placed his hat determinedly upon his head.