Christian Seaton: Duke Of Danger. Carole Mortimer

Comte’s much longer strides or risk falling over onto the dirty cobbles beneath her feet.

      The Comte either did not hear her or chose to ignore her as he continued to stride purposefully, and knowledgeably, down several alleyways Lisette had not even known were there, despite having lived in Paris for some weeks now.

      A carriage waited in the shadows of one of the streets, and it was towards this vehicle that the Comte now guided her as a groom jumped quickly down to hold the door open for them both to get inside.

      Lisette held back from entering the carriage. ‘It is impossible for me to go with you, monsieur— Umph!’ The rest of Lisette’s protest was cut off as the Comte de Saint-Cloud unceremoniously picked her up in his arms and deposited her inside the carriage before tersely instructing the groom to move on as he joined her and the door was firmly closed behind him.

      A lantern lit the inside of the heavily curtained carriage—which was perhaps the reason Lisette had not been able to see the light before now?—allowing her to appreciate the plushness of the interior.

      And the man now seated opposite her...

      His hair shone like burnished gold in the lamplight, those lavender eyes narrowed in a face that was far too handsome for any woman’s comfort. Especially so, when he had kissed that woman a short time ago and she was now alone with him in his carriage.

      ‘You take liberties, monsieur.’ Lisette glared across at the Comte as she now straightened her bonnet from where it had been knocked askew when he had picked her up and thrust her inside the carriage.

      Some of the Comte’s tension seemed to ease and he relaxed back against the upholstery as the carriage began to move forward. ‘You are the one who came looking for me, Lisette, remember.’

      She did remember. And she now regretted it. For surely this man had demonstrated in the past few minutes that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Even against such men as Helene might send to accost him? Yes, Lisette believed that might be the case.

      That air of easy charm he had affected in the tavern earlier this evening had now been replaced by a narrow-eyed watchfulness. Which Lisette sensed could be as dangerous as Helene’s implied threats against him had been such a short time ago. Leading Lisette to believe she had wasted her time, and put herself in danger of incurring Helene’s wrath, by leaving the tavern to seek out and warn such a self-assured gentleman.

      Her chin rose. ‘You were the one waiting outside the tavern in the hope I might join you.’

      Christian could hardly argue with the logic of that comment. Unless he also wished to confess to Lisette that she had not been his only reason for skulking about in that doorway tonight.

      As he still had no idea yet whether she was the innocent she seemed or an accomplished actress, he would be wiser to allow her to continue with her assumption that his intentions were dishonourable.

      Especially as he was unsure if that might not be the case...

      Her kiss had seemed to lack experience, but that could have been part of an act. Innocence was not a trait that usually appealed to him in a woman, but it had succeeded in arousing him in Lisette’s case.

      He was still aroused.

      He shifted slightly forward on his seat so that his arousal was not noticeable. ‘Are you sorry that I did?’ he prompted softly as he took both her gloved hands in his much larger ones and continued to act the roué Comte de Saint-Cloud.

      She blinked long lashes over those huge blue eyes. ‘I—’ she moistened plump lips ‘—I came only to warn you, mon—Christian,’ she corrected huskily as he gave her a reproving smile.

      Christian forced himself not to tense at her comment. ‘To warn me of what, mon ange?’

      It had been so long since anyone had spoken to Lisette with such gentleness, such kindness, that she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

      Helene had provided her with all the necessary comforts—a home, a bed, clothes to wear—but there was no softness in the woman who claimed to have given birth to her. Helene possessed none of the Duprée warmth and easy affection. Indeed, Lisette found it difficult to believe that the older woman could ever have felt passionately enough about a man to have made a child with him.

      Until this moment, when the Comte spoke to her so gently, she had been battling so valiantly to adapt to her new life that she had not realised how much she had missed the warmth of another human being.

      Even one as dangerously attractive as the Comte de Saint-Cloud.

      And he was dangerous. He had flirted with her earlier. Invited her to supper at his home—and goodness knew what else he intended. And he had kissed her a short time ago. A kiss such as Lisette had never imagined receiving from any man. A kiss that had warmed her from her head to her toes, and caused sensations within her body she had never felt before, nor could explain.

      She straightened determinedly. ‘I came to warn you that Helene is most displeased by the attentions you showed me tonight. So displeased that I believe she might mean to ask some of her...friends to cause you actual physical harm.’

      There, she had now done what she intended to do, and given this man fair warning. It was now up to the Comte whether or not he acted upon that warning.

      ‘If you would stop the carriage now?’ Lisette requested. ‘I believe I might be able to walk back to the tavern from here.’ Although she could not say she relished the idea; Helene had warned her that pickpockets—and worse—lurked upon these streets after dark, in search of the unwary and the drink-sodden, and they did not return to their lairs until daybreak. The thought of being accosted by such people as she walked back to the tavern was enough to cause her to tremble.

      Christian suspected that there was more about him that ‘displeased’ Helene Rousseau than his overt flirtation with her young niece.

      As for his allowing Lisette to depart his carriage now... ‘We will return to my home first, where we can sit and talk in warmth and comfort—’

      ‘Oh, but—’

      ‘If you still wish to return home afterwards—’ he talked over what he knew was going to be Lisette’s protest ‘—I will bring you back in my carriage.’

      ‘There is no “if” about it, monsieur,’ she assured him firmly. ‘Nor do I wish to go to your home; an unmarried lady does not enter the house of an unmarried gentleman without causing severe damage to her reputation.’

      The fact that Lisette currently lived in a lowly tavern with a woman such as Helene Rousseau was surely already damage enough to her reputation?

      As if aware of his thoughts, a blush now appeared in Lisette’s cheeks. ‘I did not always live in a tavern, monsieur,’ she informed him stiffly. ‘Until just two months ago I lived on a farm in the country with my...with relatives.’

      Very curious...

      Although it would explain why there had never been any mention of Lisette in the reports made by other agents for the Crown, in connection to Helene or André Rousseau.

      ‘I, for one, am grateful that your aunt brought you to live with her in Paris,’ he drawled.

      ‘My aunt?’ Lisette repeated sharply.

      ‘Mademoiselle Rousseau,’ Christian supplied slowly even as he looked at Lisette searchingly; she seemed surprised—shocked?—by his knowledge of her relationship to the older woman. ‘She explained your connection to me earlier this evening,’ he added gently.

      Lisette moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Yes, of course...my aunt,’ she rallied slightly, even tried to smile a little.

      Christian was not fooled for a moment by Lisette’s attempt to cover her confusion.

      He just had no idea as to the reason for that confusion...