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