So many mixed emotions, all running around inside him, with Lisette at the heart of all of them.
The heart...
Christian was an educated man, and that intellect told him that emotions came from a person’s head and not their heart, as the romantics liked to wax lyrical.
But if that was so, then why had his chest ached so much since he learned of Lisette’s abduction? As if a heavy weight had been placed upon it, restricting his breathing and making him feel nauseous.
‘She will not allow her to be harmed, Christian.’
‘She?’ He looked sharply at Maystone.
The older man sighed. ‘Helene Rousseau.’
‘We cannot be sure she is behind this.’
‘I am.’ Aubrey Maystone moved to replenish his brandy glass, holding the decanter up questioningly to Christian and replacing it back on the tray when he gave an impatiently dismissive shake of his head.
‘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.