The Duke's Men [1] What the Duke Desires (36 page)

She whirled for the door. She wasn’t sure what to say to Max, but she couldn’t leave
things the way they’d left them.

“Tell me one thing, Lisette,” Tristan called out from behind her. “Where was this
paragon of virtue last
night? He wasn’t in our cabin. And he damned well wasn’t in here.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. She might be as much to blame for her “ruin” as
Max, but Tristan would never see it that way. “Where was he?” she said stiffly. “He
was mourning the brother he thought he was about to lose yet again.”

Then she walked out and headed for the hatchway. Let the two of them stew a bit. Victor
had been relentless in his speculations, and Tristan had been the one to bring them
up in the first place. No wonder Max had recoiled. They both could have done it more
gently.

She hadn’t helped, either. She’d just been so excited at the idea that the madness
might not be hereditary after all, that Max might finally have some answers. She hadn’t
stopped to consider how he would regard what they said. That it would destroy his
faith in his mother.

Just because your mothers were whores doesn’t mean that mine was, too, damn it!

Despite understanding why he’d said it, the fact that he would include her in such
a cruel sally made her reel. Because if deep down, he really saw her only as the bastard
child of a whore . . .

She’d actually begun to believe that he didn’t care about her illegitimacy. But clearly
he did. What if he could never let that out of his mind? What if he were ashamed of
her?

Steadying herself for the prospect of seeing him, she
took a breath, then climbed out of the hatchway. But she was surprised to find the
deck nearly empty. There was no phalanx of officials, just the captain writing something
in a notebook and Max standing with the doctor in deep conversation.

She approached the captain, because that was easier than approaching Max. “What happened
to the quarantine officers?”

“They’re gone. It was all over in a matter of minutes.” The captain nodded over to
the mast, where a seaman was lowering the fever flag. “They came, they informed us
we were out of quarantine, and they left.”

Max and the doctor approached them, and she tensed. Especially when Max refrained
from looking at her.

“Captain,” he said, “can you spare a couple of men to help Mr. Cale up onto the deck?
Dr. Worth and I agree that he’s much too weak to climb the ladder on his own. And
my carriage is already on the dock, waiting for him.”

“Certainly, Your Grace,” the captain said. “I’ll see to it right now.”

Lisette stared at Max. “Where are you taking him?”

“To my town house, where he can be looked after properly. Dr. Worth has agreed to
oversee his convalescence.”

“You would do that for Victor . . . after what he said? It’s very good of you.”

“Hardly.” Max’s cool gaze met hers. “He’s still the only other heir to the dukedom.
And he’s still my only
close family—even if he does seem to resent the fact at present.”

And Max was nothing if not loyal to his family.

Just then a seaman emerged from the hatchway behind them and reached down to catch
Victor under the arms as another seaman handed him up. The doctor hurried over to
supervise Victor’s being put onto a litter. She could hear a boat rowing up to the
ship. Another sailor hurried to secure it to the side.

Then she heard the sailor say, “Are you His Grace’s servant, come to help us with
the sick fellow?”

“No,” said a familiar voice, “I am definitely not His Grace’s servant.”

As Max turned toward the sound of the voice, Lisette groaned. “Dom has arrived.”

Her half brother had a look of fire in his eyes as he climbed onto the deck from the
ship’s ladder. When Max stiffened, as if bracing himself for another contentious encounter
with a member of her family, she hurried toward her brother to head him off.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “How did you know where to find me?”

“It wasn’t exactly hard, dear girl,” he growled, shooting Max a murderous glance.
“Skrimshaw told me when I arrived yesterday evening that you’d run off with Lyons—alone
and unchaperoned—on some wild-goose chase to find Tristan. So I went to the duke’s
town house, and his servants told me where he was. Then I came here. To throttle the
bastard.”

“You’re not going to throttle him.”

“Oh yes, I am,” Dom said, pushing past her.

But Max was already striding forward to meet him. “You needn’t worry about your sister’s
reputation, Manton. I’ve already offered her marriage.”

That took the wind out of Dom’s sails. “You have?” He glanced to Lisette. “Is that
true?”

She just stood there gaping at Max. She hadn’t expected him to mention that, not after
what had just happened in the infirmary.

Still, it didn’t matter. He’d made it very clear that he
didn’t
really want to marry the daughter of a French “whore.” He couldn’t even say he loved
her! He was merely trying to save her honor—and he needn’t bother.

“It’s true,” she told Dom. “He did offer marriage, but I refused.”

Max looked even more surprised than Dom. She could see him withdrawing into himself,
shuttering his expression.

Her heart sank. He was going to seize the chance she was giving him to escape marrying
her. And she couldn’t blame him. They weren’t nearly as well suited as she’d thought.

“That’s not how I remember it, Lisette,” Max said.

The husky words caught her off guard. He wasn’t seizing the chance after all?

For half a moment, her heart leaped. He
did
want her. She nearly threw herself in his arms to say that it wasn’t how she remembered
it, either.

Just because your mothers were whores doesn’t mean that mine was, too, damn it!

That halted her. No matter what he claimed right now, he would never be able to forget
who she was. And she would never be able to fit into his world. What had she been
thinking?

Besides, he no longer had to worry about dying mad and alone. He had his cousin, and
given what Victor and Dr. Worth had said, there was a good chance madness would not
be in his future. So she refused to hold him to an offer he’d made under vastly different
circumstances.

He would appreciate it later, and congratulate himself on having made a narrow escape.
As would she.

Or so she tried to tell herself. “Perhaps it’s not . . . exactly what I said,” she
remarked softly. “But I think you’ll agree that it’s for the best that we don’t marry.”

“The hell it is,” Dom put in. “According to Skrimshaw, the two of you set off to travel
halfway across England and France—”

“Under aliases,” Lisette said. “My reputation is intact.” She’d deal with Mrs. Greasley
later. No point in telling Dom right now that his sister would soon have to pretend
to be the grieving widow of a land agent.

“Reputation is one thing,” Dom snapped. “But if Lyons laid one hand on you, Lisette,
I swear—”

“His Grace was a perfect gentleman,” she said, swallowing down the tears clogging
her throat. She clasped her hands behind her back to hide their shaking from Dom.
“I have nothing to reproach him for.”

Something flared in Max’s eyes—though she couldn’t tell if it was anger or desire.
Or both.

But before he could speak, the captain came up to
him. “Mr. Cale is on shore now, Your Grace. They’re waiting for you.”

“Thank you. Tell them I’ll be there shortly.” Max faced Lisette. “I must go get Victor
and Dr. Worth settled in, and I have several important matters to attend to. But I
will call on you in a few days, I promise. This is
not
over.”

Then he strode off.

She wished she could believe him, but she knew better. Once he realized that he had
no more reason to fear marrying someone of his own rank, he would forget her.

A pity that she would never forget him.

Tears welled in her eyes that she fought mightily to contain.

“What the hell just happened?” Dom asked. “And who is Victor Cale? Skrimshaw told
me the two of you went off to find the duke’s brother, but I thought he said his name
was Peter.” His eyes narrowed on her. “And why are you crying?”

She brushed the tears ruthlessly away. “I’m not. It’s just this sea air. It makes
my eyes water.”

“Lisette—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dom.” Heading for the hatchway to see what was keeping
Tristan, she changed the subject. “I assume you avoided having Hucker follow you here.”

Dom froze. “Hucker? George’s man of affairs?”

Her blood chilled. She turned back to him. “You received my note, right?”

“No, I didn’t receive a damned thing. What are you talking about?”

“You had to have gotten my note!” How could he have not? Oh, Lord, what if Hucker
had followed him? “We have to get Tristan off this ship. Now, before Hucker and George
get here!”

Tristan’s voice came from the opened hatchway. “Why are Hucker and George coming here?”

The minute he caught sight of his half brother, Dom paled. “Are you out of your mind,
you damned fool? What are you doing in England?”

“It’s a long story,” Lisette said. “We need to leave. We probably don’t have much
time.”

“Where’s the duke?” Tristan asked.

“Gone. And I’m sure he’ll honor his promise to you if he can, but I don’t know if
there is much he can do if you actually get yourself arrested. So we have to get you
off this ship!”

“Let me fetch my trunk,” Tristan said and hurried down the hatchway.

She climbed down after him. “There’s no time, drat you!”

But he was already in his cabin, packing up. When she rushed in and tried to get him
to leave, he said, “Relax, Lisette, even if Hucker did follow Dom to the dock, he’s
got no reason to think Dom is coming to see
me
. Why would he think that?”

Oh, Lord, she’d forgotten that Tristan didn’t know she’d been in France with Max.
“Because the duke and I went to France after you, and he knows it.”

“
What
?” Tristan said. “You traveled alone with Lyons?”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“She’s right about that,” Dom said from the doorway. “If George had Hucker follow
her to France, he must really be eager to arrest you.”

“Exactly!” she cried. “So come on!”

The two of them got Tristan onto the deck. Then he halted. “What about your bag, Lisette?”

“It doesn’t matter!” she said, frustrated. “We have to get you off the ship!”

“Too late for that,” said a new voice.

Lisette’s heart dropped as she slowly turned to find George climbing on deck with
Hucker following behind. And after them, half a score of officers swarmed aboard.
“Lord save us,” she whispered.

“Damn you, George,” Dom growled.

Their brother ignored them both. “Good morning, Tristan,” George said with a look
of pure satisfaction. “I hate to tell you, but the only way you’re leaving this ship
is in chains.”

He nodded to Tristan, and one of the officers hurried over to seize her brother. “Tristan
Bonnaud, I arrest you in the name of the king for . . .”

She couldn’t hear the rest of it over the blood pounding in her ears. Despite all
her attempts to prevent it, George had finally gotten Tristan exactly where he wanted
him. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

A
S THE CARRIAGE
fought its way through morning traffic in London, Maximilian could only stare out
the window. Dr. Worth had taken a hackney coach to his own abode, saying that he would
gather some medications and then meet them at the town house. Victor, who lay on the
seat opposite, was sleeping after his exhausting transfer from the ship to Maximilian’s
coach.

Maximilian was numb. Lisette had refused him. Thanks to his cruel words, he’d lost
her.

He shouldn’t have called her mother a whore. He deeply regretted that. But damn it,
he’d had a right to be angry. She thought him a pampered aristocrat, an arrogant arse
who wouldn’t even admit to the vices of his family—vices that
she
and the others had drummed up out of some assertions from his lying madman of an
uncle.

“You’re a bloody fool, you know,” came Victor’s voice across from him.

He stiffened. That was the last thing he needed right
now—more idiocy from his cousin. “Thank you for your opinion, but at the moment I
don’t want to hear anything from you. I believe I’ve heard enough today already.”

A long silence fell between them, punctuated only by Victor’s coughing. Then the man
struggled to sit up, and Maximilian scowled at him. “Stop that. The doctor says you
need to rest.”

“I don’t like being a damned invalid,” Victor grumbled, though he drew the blanket
over his lap. “And you’re going to hear my opinion whether you like it or not, cousin.”

Maximilian scowled at him. “I’ve had just about enough of your disgusting insinuations
about—”