She felt the blood leach from her cheeks at the realisation that her own mother had been one of her abductors. ‘I do not understand...’
Lord Maystone gave a regretful smile. ‘I have only just begun to do so—’ He broke off as he quickly reached forward to drag Lisette behind him as Helene Rousseau drew a pistol from the waistband of the rough trousers she was wearing.
‘I said you were to come alone,’ Helene rasped in accented English, her pistol pointed not at Maystone or Lisette but at someone behind them.
Lisette turned to see that Christian now stood just a few feet away, his own pistol aimed at Helene’s heart; his approach had been made so stealthily that none on the bridge, least of all Lisette, seemed to have been aware of him standing there until Helene was finally alerted to his presence.
Lisette gave a wince as she saw the dangerous coldness of Christian’s expression as he continued to aim his pistol at Helene. A cold intensity of purpose that prevented Lisette from gauging his mood towards her.
Although she knew that it could not be in the least favourable, when she had put not only herself in danger with her impetuousness, but now also Lord Maystone and Christian himself.
She had every intention of apologising to him for her reckless stupidity if—when they had all escaped from this situation unharmed.
In the meantime, she was still finding it difficult to believe that Helene was in London at all, let alone that she had been instrumental in her abduction. The other woman must have followed on another ship almost immediately after their own sloop had left France.
‘Put the pistol down, Helene,’ Lord Maystone was the one to instruct firmly. ‘Before someone gets hurt. Undoubtedly yourself, considering that Christian is an expert shot and unlikely to miss from such close proximity.’
Helene’s nostrils flared. ‘It is a pity my men did not succeed in disposing of him five days ago.’
Maystone chuckled ruefully as Lisette gave an indignant gasp. ‘It is as well for you that they did not, otherwise I fear we would not be having this conversation at all.’
Helene’s eyes glittered malevolently as she now turned her pistol onto him. ‘I did not come here to talk.’
‘I am well aware of it, my dear,’ Lord Maystone accepted wearily. ‘And I am completely at your service, if you could first allow Lisette and Christian to depart, and perhaps this young man?’ He indicated Davy, now standing back in the shadows.
‘I have no intention of going anywhere,’ Christian stated firmly, completely baffled as to Helene Rousseau’s presence in London, but totally aware that it boded ill for any who were acquainted with her cold ruthlessness.
‘Nor I,’ Lisette stated just as determinedly.
That was not his intention, Christian acknowledged with frustration. Although, knowing Lisette’s stubbornness, he should have expected it. ‘Were it not for your rebelliousness of nature, then none of us would be here at all,’ he reminded harshly.
A guilty blush instantly coloured her cheeks, her lashes becoming downcast, but for once she remained silent.
Christian found that he disliked Lisette’s silence even more than he had enjoyed her outspokenness in regard to himself these past few days.
As much as he disliked the fact that she remained at Maystone’s side once she achieved her release. Perhaps understandably when his own anger must be so apparent. Lisette obviously did not realise it, but it was an anger born of anxiety, rather than anything else.
‘As the young people both seem bent on being a part of this conversation—’ Aubrey Maystone spoke lightly ‘—perhaps we might all, with the exception of your young accomplice, retire to the comfort of Sutherland’s carriage for the rest of it? Away from prying eyes and listening ears.’
Helene Rousseau gave him a contemptuous glance. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Nothing?’ He quirked steely brows.
Her mouth thinned. ‘No.’
‘Just want the satisfaction of putting a bullet through my heart, hmm?’ the older man said drily.
The Frenchwoman gave a hard feral smile. ‘I have thought of little else for some time now.’
Christian could see the bewilderment in Lisette’s expression and knew that it must reflect his own. Maystone had never mentioned knowing Helene Rousseau personally during all these months they had been investigating her and her brother, and yet it was obvious from the conversation that the two had met before.
An uneasy feeling had begun to settle in the depths of Christian’s chest.
‘Dear, dear, Helene,’ Maystone chided mockingly. ‘Has no one ever told you that vengeance invariably destroys the avenger rather than the victim of that vengeance?’