‘They may be armed—’
‘I too am armed,’ he reminded quietly, having hidden a pistol in the waistband at the back of his pantaloons. Not the most convenient of places for him to retrieve it, but it would not do to reveal he was armed from the onset. ‘But I doubt it will be necessary,’ he added softly, his gaze fixed on the three figures on the bridge.
Christian was also armed with a pistol, but he knew that he would never be able to make his shot anything near accurate from this distance. ‘What are you not telling me, Aubrey?’ He eyed the other man frustratedly.
Maystone gave him a calm smile. ‘Does your Lisette possess a temper, Christian?’
‘She is not— Yes,’ he confirmed impatiently as Maystone raised mocking brows. ‘Lisette has a very fine temper indeed.’
‘I believed that might be the case.’ Maystone nodded. ‘A word of advice, Christian: whatever you do, never be the one to incite that temper.’
‘Oh, I believe it is far too late for that!’ he murmured drily as he recalled the names Lisette had called him in her tirade both yesterday and again today.
‘I have no doubt you are more than up to the challenge.’ Maystone chuckled as he held out his hand. ‘I am glad to have known you, Christian.’
He slowly reached out to take that hand and return the handshake.
‘You are a man any parent would be proud to call his son.’ The older man nodded in satisfaction.
‘What—?’
‘Never fear; I will send Lisette back to you in just a few minutes.’ He straightened. ‘You will find several letters on my desk at home; if I could ask that you deliver them to the appropriate people if I should not return?’
Christian was liking the sound of this less and less.
‘Strangest thing about women,’ Maystone mused as he stared across the bridge. ‘Softest creatures on earth when they are loved, and the most vicious when they are not.’
‘Aubrey—’
‘I am not rambling, I assure you, Christian,’ he continued briskly. ‘Wait here for Lisette.’
‘But—’
‘You will do as I ask, Christian.’ The older man’s eyes glowed with determination.
Leaving Christian with no choice but to stand and watch as Aubrey Maystone began to walk across the bridge to where Lisette and her abductors waited.
* * *
Of one thing Lisette was certain; the man walking across the bridge towards them was not Christian. This man was not tall or broad enough in the shoulders to be him.
And yet he seemed to be walking purposefully towards them. Just as Lisette could also sense the increased tension in the man beside her, the one whose face was covered by the kerchief. As if he knew and recognised the man, if Lisette did not.
Except she did, of course; once the man passed beneath one of the flickering lamps, she was able to make out that he was none other than Lord Aubrey Maystone.
A man who had no reason to trust her, and surely had absolutely no interest in saving her.
‘Is that really necessary?’ He stopped just feet away to indicate the gag about Lisette’s mouth and the rope about her wrists.
‘She’s a screamer,’ Davy muttered.
Lord Maystone pinned him with his steely blue gaze. ‘You would no doubt scream too, young man, if you had been abducted and held a prisoner these past six hours or more! Remove the gag and ropes immediately,’ he instructed authoritatively.
Davy turned to look at his accomplice, as if for direction. A direction he received as the other man gave a dismissive wave of his gloved hand without once looking away from Lord Maystone.
Lisette drew in a grateful breath the moment the gag was removed from her mouth; even the pungent odour of the river was more pleasant than the smelly rag.
She was even more relieved when the cord had been removed from about her wrists. Allowing her to rub the numbed flesh and let the blood flow freely to her fingers as she stepped tentatively away from her abductors, moving more quickly as they made no attempt to stop her.
‘You are unharmed, my dear?’ Lord Maystone prompted gruffly as she reached his side.
‘No thanks to these two men,’ she confirmed with a narrow-eyed and accusing glare at Davy, who at least had the grace to shift uncomfortably.
The elderly man nodded. ‘In that case, you may return to Christian while I— You will let her go to him, Helene,’ he rasped harshly as the man with the kerchief stepped forward as if to prevent Lisette from leaving.
Helene...?
Lisette turned to look wonderingly at the man—woman?—wearing the kerchief, just in time to see that kerchief pulled down and to find herself looking into the hard uncompromising face of the woman who claimed to be her mother.