Christian Seaton: Duke of Danger Read online

  ‘I do not feel the same way about you, Lisette,’ he told her huskily. ‘Far from it, in fact,’ he added drily for the evidence she had seen just that morning regarding his body’s reaction to her.

  She eyed him scathingly. ‘Then that is your misfortune, monsieur, because I most assuredly now despise you.’

  Christian could see that emotion burning fiercely in her eyes. And she was only going to hate him more once she met Maystone and knew of Christian’s real motivation in bringing her to England with him. ‘But you will stay anyway.’ It was a statement, not a question.

  Lisette drew in a ragged breath. ‘And what happens when your “ward” suddenly disappears? When I have returned to France? What lies will you tell about me then?’

  The truth was Christian had no idea what the future held for Lisette.

  He only knew his own need to protect her as much as he could. And publicly claiming her as his ward now he was back in England was the only way he knew to do that.

  ‘As you are now acknowledged as being my ward, I will be perfectly within my rights to hunt you down and bring you back if you should attempt to run away from me,’ he stated evenly.

  ‘You—’

  ‘Just as, as your guardian, I would also be perfectly within my rights to hunt down anyone who attempted to hurt you,’ he added softly, understanding now why his close friend Griffin Stone, the Duke of Rotherham, had once felt pressed to claim his now wife as his ward. As he had also discovered, for a single gentleman it was the only way in which to protect an unprotected female who had no one else to care what happened to her.

  And Christian did care what happened to Lisette. Very much so.

  ‘—are an arrogant—’ Lisette stared at him suspiciously. ‘Why should anyone attempt to hurt me? I do not know anyone in England. Or they me.’ She looked puzzled.

  The time for truth, Christian acknowledged with an inner wince. ‘Unfortunately, that is not true of your mother—’

  ‘Helene?’ Lisette looked even more mystified. ‘As far as I am aware, she does not know anyone here either—’ She broke off to look at him searchingly. ‘This has something to do with the fact that you were in Paris spying upon her, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Did you know your uncle, André Rousseau?’

  Lisette stilled. ‘I believe I told you that he died before I arrived in Paris...’

  ‘I believe you did too.’

  ‘And?’

  Christian Seaton grimaced. ‘And I have no way of confirming whether that is the truth.’

  Lisette’s chin tilted challengingly. ‘Unlike you, Your Grace, I do not lie.’

  His mouth thinned at the rebuke. ‘I did not start out with the intention of lying to you, Lisette.’

  ‘That may be true,’ she allowed grudgingly. ‘But you are certainly responsible for continuing to do so.’

  He grimaced. ‘I had no way of knowing if you were to be trusted with the truth.’

  Lisette gave what she knew to be a humourless smile. ‘You still do not.’

  ‘True,’ the Duke conceded. ‘But we are on English soil now.’

  They were, yes, and, despite Lisette’s outward show of bravado, she was more than a little unnerved by being in a strange country where she knew no one. Except the man who had been lying to her from the moment they first met. A man whose reason for being in Paris had been to spy on Helene Rousseau.

  ‘What did you hope to learn by watching Helene?’ she prompted cautiously; she knew that the woman who was her mother had been plotting and planning—even if Lisette had no idea of the details of those plots and plans—during those late night and secret meetings in a room above the tavern. But she had no way of knowing how much Christian Seaton knew of those meetings, or indeed Helene herself.

  In the circumstances, sadly perhaps more than Lisette knew herself, in regard to the latter.

  ‘How much do you know of her...nocturnal activities?’

  Lisette blinked. ‘I am uncertain of your meaning,’ she came back cautiously.

  Christian could not help but smile ruefully at Lisette’s guarded response to his question. No, there might not be any physical similarities between Lisette and her mother, but the intelligence was most certainly there.

  ‘Oh, I believe you understand me perfectly.’ He nodded. ‘That you are well aware your mother is a Parisian who has no affection for her own King.’ He paused but Lisette offered no reply. ‘Your uncle, André Rousseau, was another. He came to England two years ago under an assumed name, to work as tutor to the son and heir of an English earl. During the year he spent here he set up a network of spies, within the homes of many members of society as well as the English government,’ he continued evenly. ‘Their ultimate intention was to assassinate the Prince Regent, as well as the other leaders in the coalition, and thus cause chaos within those countries which would allow the newly escaped Bonaparte to march on Paris and resume his place as Emperor of France.’

  Lisette was so shocked by what Christian was telling her that her legs felt so weak she now stumbled her way across the bedchamber to drop down onto the chair beside the window before answering him. ‘That is incredible.’

  ‘But nevertheless true.’

  She swallowed with difficulty, her mouth having suddenly become very dry.

  ‘To achieve their goal they kidnapped the young grandson of a powerful man behind the English government, threatening to kill the boy if that gentleman did not hand over certain information regarding the date and locality of Bonaparte’s second incarceration,’ the Duke continued remorselessly.

  ‘No...!’ Lisette felt her face pale.

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed grimly. ‘Luckily, we were able to rescue the boy in time, without that necessity, and so prevent Bonaparte from escaping a second time.’

  ‘And you believe—you are of the opinion Helene was involved in this plot?’ Lisette felt sick at the thought.

  Although why she should be she had no idea; Helene had already demonstrated, by not so much as bothering to see or visit her own child once during the first nineteen years of that child’s life, that she was not in the least maternal. Nor, apparently, was she afflicted with any softer feelings in regard to a child’s life.

  ‘Your uncle, André Rousseau, was instrumental in setting these plans in motion, but I believe that it was your mother, Helene Rousseau, who was responsible for seeing that those plans were carried out after his death.’ He nodded tersely.

  Lisette moistened the dryness of her lips before speaking. ‘I had no idea...’

  Christian so much wanted to believe that. He did believe that. Convincing Maystone of the same was the stumbling block.

  His discomfort now owed nothing to his wounded thigh and everything to do with what he had to say next. ‘There are...people in England who will wish to speak with you, Lisette.’

  ‘Me?’ She looked shocked at the idea.

  He grimaced. ‘You are as close to Helene Rousseau as we are likely to get—’

  ‘I am not close to her at all!’ Lisette protested. ‘I hardly know her.’

  ‘Nevertheless, you are her daughter.’

  Lisette took in the full import of Christian’s words. ‘You are hoping to use me in some way in order to influence Helene’s future actions.’

  A nerve pulsed in Christian’s clenched jaw. ‘I am hoping to protect you; others may wish to do otherwise.’

  Lisette no longer knew what to think.

  That Helene could be involved in something so monstrous as kidnapping a child was abhorrent to her.

  That she would be used as a similar weapon against Helene was also obvious.

  She gave a shake of her head. ‘Helene will not be swayed by any threats that are made towards me.’

  Unfortunately, Christian also believed that to be
the truth; fanatics such as Helene and her brother André were not people who allowed personal emotions to enter into their bigger plans. Something else he would need to convince Maystone of.

  In the meantime, as he had suspected, he had now succeeded in frightening Lisette with the truth. ‘I will not allow anyone to hurt you—’

  ‘And how will you stop them?’ Lisette rose abruptly to her feet as she looked at him coldly. ‘I should have known that your interest was never in me, that I was merely a convenient pawn for you to use in the continued war against Napoleon!’

  ‘That is not true—’

  ‘It is true, and you know that it is!’ Tears glistened in those beautiful blue eyes. ‘I cannot believe, after I helped to save you from your attackers, and then nursed you through the night and on the voyage to England, that you were all the time being so deceitful!’ She turned on her heel and ran to the door.

  ‘Lisette—!’ Christian once again attempted to sit up and swing his legs to the side of the bed with the intention of rising to his feet, ignoring the pain as he pushed up unsteadily onto his feet, wanting only to reach Lisette, to prevent her from leaving, to reassure her—

  ‘Well, well, well, and what have we here?’ drawled an all too familiar voice.

  Christian felt himself toppling and then falling back onto the bed as he looked up and saw his brother-in-law Marcus Wilding, the Duke of Worthing, standing in the doorway with Lisette an unwilling prisoner in his arms.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Can you manage, Christian, or shall I release this beauty in order to assist you?’

  Christian glared across the bedchamber at his brother-in-law as he carefully sat up on the bed; Marcus was one of his best friends as well as his brother-in-law, but that did not change the fact that he also had an infuriating knack for the understatement.

  ‘Ah, I see you have decided to manage on your own.’ Marcus’s green eyes were alight with curiosity. ‘Perhaps you would care to make the introductions?’ He arched a pointed black brow at the young woman whose wrist he now held securely in order to prevent her from leaving.

  Christian’s glare turned to a scowl. ‘What are you doing here, Marcus?’

  The other man looked completely unruffled, by Christian’s taciturn tone and Lisette’s continued efforts to release herself.

  ‘I am here to see you, of— Ouch!’ Marcus looked down in surprise as one of Lisette’s tiny booted feet came down painfully on his instep. ‘A hellion, by God!’ he murmured admiringly.

  Christian would have warned the other man, in regard to Lisette’s temper, if he was not feeling quite so out of sorts with Marcus himself.

  Having sent word ahead for his coach to arrive in Portsmouth, he should perhaps have realised that his overprotective sister, and consequently his totally besotted brother-in-law, would keep themselves apprised of his movements.

  ‘Just so,’ he confirmed drily as he settled himself more comfortably on the side of the bed. ‘Lisette, the man you just assaulted is Marcus Wilding, the Duke of Worthing, and married to my sister Julianna.’

  Lisette ceased her struggles instantly to instead look up at the devilishly handsome man holding her prisoner; green eyes were dancing merrily down at her as he met what was no doubt her shocked gaze.

  Of course she was surprised at meeting yet another duke; indeed, she seemed to be meeting more than her fair share of them recently.

  ‘And you are...?’ this new duke queried pointedly.

  ‘I am—’

  ‘Lisette Duprée, my ward,’ Christian Seaton answered the other man challengingly, or so it seemed to Lisette.

  And no doubt it was; if this was Christian Seaton’s brother-in-law, then he must know that the other man did not have a ward. Or, at the very least, he had not done so the last time the two of them had met.

  ‘My ward,’ Christian repeated firmly.

  ‘Your French ward?’ The Duke of Worthing arched questioning brows.

  ‘As I said.’ The other man nodded stiffly.

  Lisette now found herself the focus of Marcus Wilding’s narrowed gaze as he obviously tried to make sense of Christian’s announcement. ‘I am—I was—I am travelling to visit my relatives in England, monsieur, and His Grace was kind enough to offer to act as my guardian for the duration of the voyage.’ A guilty blush coloured her cheeks even as she spoke the lie.

  ‘Really?’ Those dark brows arched even higher. ‘She speaks no English at all, Christian?’ He addressed the other man in that language.

  Christian’s jaw tightened at the almost accusatory tone he could hear in his brother-in-law’s voice. ‘I will explain all later, Marcus.’

  ‘I am not the one you will need to explain yourself to,’ the other man assured him ruefully.

  ‘Maystone—’

  ‘I was thinking more of Julianna, actually,’ Marcus drawled mockingly. ‘Although I am sure Maystone will be interested in this...development too.’

  Christian frowned at thoughts of both Julianna and Maystone. But the die had been cast now, his claim made, and he had no intention of abandoning Lisette to interrogation by either Maystone or Julianna.

  ‘Care to explain the reason why you’re currently...incapacitated?’ His brother-in-law indicated his injured thigh.

  ‘Again, not now,’ Christian answered tightly.

  Amusement darkened Marcus’s eyes. ‘The hellion did not shoot you, did she?’

  Christian’s eyes narrowed. ‘No.’

  ‘Then perhaps one of her outraged relatives?’

  That question was far too close to the truth for Christian’s liking. ‘Stop enjoying yourself at my expense, Marcus, and tell me—is Julianna well?’ He was fully aware this was the easiest way in which to divert Marcus; the other man enjoyed nothing more than talking of the wife he adored.

  ‘Very.’ Marcus instantly beamed.

  ‘My sister is enceinte, Lisette.’ Christian included her in the conversation as she looked at them both curiously.

  ‘Mon félicitations, monsieur,’ she offered warmly.

  ‘Merci, madamoiselle. You really must do something about this only speaking French, Christian.’ Marcus frowned. ‘It will not go down well in some quarters.’

  ‘I intend to do so.’ In truth, it seemed that Lisette had already acquired a smattering of English; several of the names she had called him earlier—in heavily accented English—were worthy of a dockside sailor. Which, no doubt, was exactly from whom she had heard them!

  ‘The two of you seemed to be having...some sort of disagreement when I arrived?’ Marcus glanced at him questioningly.

  ‘A difference of opinion, that is all,’ Christian dismissed.

  Marcus’s brows rose. ‘Sounded a bit more than that to me, old chap.’

  ‘Well, no doubt as a married man you would know more about such differences of opinion than I!’ Christian came back tersely.

  ‘Not so, Christian. Julianna and I rarely, if ever, differ in opinion,’ the other man dismissed loftily.

  ‘That is because Julianna thinks you are a conceited ass and you know that you are!’

  ‘Something like that.’ Marcus grinned unabashedly before sobering. ‘You realise Maystone will have to be informed of both your return and your injury.’

  ‘But not immediately.’ He would much prefer it if he was not at a disadvantage, caused by his wound, when he spoke with the older man.

  Marcus shrugged. ‘Not sure how that’s going to be possible, Christian. We were not the only ones awaiting word of your return, and the moment he learned you had sent for your carriage, Maystone dispatched me here to meet you and accompany you back to London. He wishes you to report to him immediately as to your findings.’

  Christian deeply regretted having sent for his carriage at all, if that was
the case. ‘That is obviously not possible in my present condition.’ He grimaced.

  ‘Obviously.’ His friend nodded. ‘What do you want me to tell Maystone when I return to London later today?’

  Christian felt no surprise at hearing Marcus intended to return to the capital today, with or without him. Previously a profligate rake, Marcus was now totally devoted to Julianna and the baby they were expecting; no doubt he could not bear the thought of being separated from her, even for a single night. It pleased Christian that his sister and his friend had found such happiness together.

  At the same time it in no way helped him to find a solution to this present dilemma. ‘You could always tell Maystone I have not arrived as yet?’

  The other man grimaced. ‘In which case, he will have expected me to linger in Portsmouth until you do.’

  Damnation.

  ‘Perhaps, Your Grace,’ Lisette was the one to put in softly, ‘you might tell this gentleman, of whom you both speak so respectfully, the truth? That Christian was injured whilst involved in the work for which the gentleman named Maystone no doubt sent him to Paris?’

  Both men turned to look at her in astonishment. Rightly so; it might have been rude of them to do so, but their conversation had all taken place in English.

  Lisette steadily returned their shocked gazes. ‘I said I did not speak English, Your Grace, not that I did not understand it.’

  Hell and damnation!

  Christian had been under the misapprehension all this time that Lisette did not understand any conversation spoken in English. To now learn that she had knowledge of the language made him question any and all of those conversations unguardedly spoken in front of her.

  Could it be that she was indeed a spy for her mother, Helene Rousseau?

  Until a few moments ago Christian would have staked his life on that not being the case. The revelation that Lisette understood English, even if she did not speak it, meant he was now less certain. A lot less certain. Especially as he and Marcus had not exactly been discreet in their own conversation.