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...
Lisette was so taken aback by the Comte de Saint-Cloud’s comment regarding her relationship to Helene that she could think of nothing more to add to the conversation.
Of course she accepted that it would have been awkward for Helene to suddenly produce a fully grown daughter.
But surely no more awkward than it was for that fully grown daughter to suddenly discover that the couple she had thought were her parents were not even related to her, and that instead the cold and haughty Helene Rousseau was actually her mother?
Even so, Lisette had not realised until now that Helene had not publicly claimed her as her daughter at all, but instead only as her niece.
She was not sure how she felt about that.
‘Lisette...?’
She had been so deeply in thought that she had not realised the carriage had come to a halt, and that a groom now stood beside the open door waiting for her and the Comte to alight.
Which must mean, whilst she had been lost in thought, they had arrived at the Comte de Saint-Cloud’s home.
She gave a firm shake of her head. ‘I wish to return to the tavern now, monsieur.’
‘Why?’
‘Why? Because...well, because—’
‘What so urgently awaits you there, Lisette, that you cannot spare a few minutes to sit and share a glass of wine with me?’ the Comte teased softly.
It was not her time that concerned Lisette, but her reputation.
At
