Читать книгу The Complete Regency Season Collection - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 37

Chapter Fifteen

‘Good evening, Hinds.’ Georgianna handed her bonnet and cloak to the surprised butler as she stepped past him into the cavernous hallway of Hawksmere House. ‘Is his Grace at home?’

The butler looked more than a little flustered by having her arrive at his employer’s home at eleven o’clock in the evening. ‘He returned some minutes ago and has retired to his study.’

‘Which is where?’ She gazed pointedly at the half dozen doors leading off the entrance hall.

‘The second door on the right. But...’

‘Thank you.’ Georgianna gave the butler a brightly dismissive smile, determined to go through with her decision to speak with Zachary again. ‘Perhaps you might bring through a decanter of brandy?’ Bravado had brought her thus far—she did not intend to let it desert her now.

‘His Grace has just this minute instructed I do so, my lady.’ Hind’s brows were still raised in astonishment at her commanding behaviour.

Understandably so, when she considered the butler was fully aware that she had once been held here as Hawksmere’s prisoner.

Although she did feel slightly heartened by the fact that Zachary had obviously felt in need of a restorative brandy—or two—upon his return home. ‘I will not delay you from your duties any longer then, Hinds.’

‘What on earth is going on, Hinds?’ Hawksmere came to an abrupt halt in the now-open doorway of his study, his expression one of stunned disbelief as he gazed across at her.

‘Georgianna?’

‘Hawksmere.’ She managed to greet him with the same brightness as she had addressed the butler seconds ago, determined not to lose her nerve now that she found herself face to face with Zachary.

As Jeffrey had gently chided earlier, the situation between herself and Zachary had come to a breaking point, with no going back, only forward. Wherever that might take her. Consequently, Georgianna had nothing left to lose now but her pride. And where Zachary was concerned, she found that she now had none. How could she have, when she knew he had cast aside his own pride earlier this evening, by offering to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness.

‘The brandy, Hinds, if you please?’ she reminded, sending Hinds scurrying down the hallway.

Zachary was dressed far less formally than he had been earlier this evening, having removed his jacket and cravat, leaving him dressed only in his waistcoat over the snowy white shirt open at the throat and black pantaloons, which clearly showed the lean perfection of his muscled legs and thighs.

He looked delicious, Georgianna decided, good enough to eat, in fact. The heated colour warmed her cheeks as she recalled that she had already tasted and devoured Zachary, when the two of them made love together yesterday afternoon.

She held Zachary’s wary gaze unwaveringly as she softly crossed the hallway to join him. ‘May I come in?’ she beseeched huskily, her heart beating erratically in her chest as he made no effort to stand aside and allow her entry into his study.

Zachary’s hand tightened on the doorframe, where he had reached out to steady himself in his complete surprise at seeing Georgianna standing in the entrance hall of his London home. ‘Is Jeffrey with you?’

‘Jeffrey knows that I am here, because he put me into our carriage himself. Otherwise, I am quite alone,’ she dismissed huskily.

A scowl darkened Zachary’s brow. ‘That was most improper of you.’

She gazed up at him quizzically. ‘As you stated earlier, we are well past that point.’

Maybe so, but Zachary’s concern was on Georgianna’s behalf, rather than his own. His own reputation was such that her visiting him alone would only add to his reputation as being something of a rake, whereas Georgianna’s still bore a question mark, as far as society was concerned.

‘Why are you here, Georgianna?’ he prompted warily.

‘You would rather I had not come?’

He would far rather Georgianna stayed and never left. Ever again. But, as their earlier conversation had seemed to confirm that was not even a possibility, he could not help but question as to the reason why Georgianna had left the Countess of Evesham’s ball only minutes after he had done so himself. With the intent, it seemed, of following him here. With her brother’s full consent and co-operation, by the sound of it.

His mouth tightened disapprovingly. ‘Jeffrey should have known better than to allow it.’

‘Jeffrey overheard part of our own conversation on the terrace earlier.’

‘I can see I shall have to have words with that young man regarding his habit of eavesdropping on private conversations.’ Zachary scowled.

Georgianna shook her head. ‘He is far more mature and sensible than either of us have given him credit for,’ she assured drily. ‘But would you rather I left again, Zachary?’ She looked up at him searchingly.

He drew a deep breath into his starved lungs as he realised he had forgotten to breathe. He allowed himself to indulge his senses where Georgianna was concerned, gazing upon her obvious beauty and the dewy perfection of her skin, that begged to be touched and tasted, and now breathing in her unique perfume— something floral as well as the unique and feminine warmth that was all Georgianna.

‘I would rather you had not come here at all,’ he maintained harshly, still making no effort to step aside and allow her entry to his study. It was his last bastion of defence, a place where he did not have any visible memories of being with Georgianna. Unlike his bedchamber upstairs. And the bedchamber adjoining that one. And the blue salon.

Her chin rose determinedly. ‘I wished to continue our earlier conversation.’

His jaw tightened. ‘And I believe we said then all that needs be said to each other.’

Georgianna looked up at Zachary searchingly, as she easily noted his unkempt appearance. His hair was tousled, as if he had run his agitated fingers through it several times since returning home. The lines beside his eyes and mouth seemed deeper, his mouth set in a thin and uncompromising line, and there was a dark shadow upon his jaw, where he was obviously in need of a second shave of the day.

Altogether, he looked nothing like the suave and sophisticated gentleman who had arrived at the Countess of Evesham’s ball earlier this evening.

Because of the unsatisfactory outcome earlier of that conversation with her?

That was what Georgianna was here to find out. And, having made that decision, she had no intentions of leaving here tonight until she had done so.

‘You know, Zachary, we both have scars that are visible to the eye if one cares to look for them.’ Her gaze softened as she reached up to gently touch the livid scar upon his throat, stubbornly maintaining that touch even when he would have flinched away. ‘But I, for one, have other scars, ones deep inside me, that are not at all visible to the naked eye.’ She smiled sadly. ‘They are the scars left by my unhappy experience at André’s hands. Of uncertainty. Of questioning my self-worth.’

‘The devil they are.’

Georgianna nodded as Zachary scowled his displeasure at her admission. ‘Those scars make it difficult for me to believe that any man, any gentleman, could ever, would ever, want to be with me after— Zachary?’ she questioned sharply as he reached up to curl his fingers about her wrist before pulling her inside his candlelit study and closing the door firmly behind them. His eyes were a dark, unfathomable grey as he gazed down at her hungrily before his arms moved about her and he lowered his head to crush her lips beneath his own.

It would have been so easy to lose herself in that kiss. For Georgianna to give in completely to the arousal which instantly thrummed through her body. To feel gratified, to revel, in this proof that Zachary still desired her, at least.

But she could not. Dared not. Because she knew it would be all too easy to give in to those desires and for the two of them not to talk at all. And they needed the truth between the two of them, before, or if, there was to be any more lovemaking.

Georgianna wrenched her mouth from beneath Zachary’s even as she pushed against his chest to free herself.

His arms fell reluctantly away as he stepped back, his heavy lidded gaze now guarded. ‘I trust that answers your question as to whether or not you are wanted by me?’

She drew in a shaky breath, even more determined, after Zachary’s show of passion, to say all the things she knew needed to be said between them. ‘I made a mistake last year, Zachary, one for which so many people have suffered.’

‘You most of all,’ he pointed out gruffly.

She sighed equally as shakily. ‘I really was so very young, and even more foolish. I am ashamed to say that at the time I saw it all as a grand adventure, with no real thought for what the long-term consequences of my actions might be.’

‘Except to escape being married to me,’ Zachary reminded drily.

‘Yes.’ Georgianna’s gaze now avoided meeting his, as she began to pace the rug before the warmth of the fireplace. ‘And now I have so many things to thank you for, Zachary.’

His eyes widened. ‘What on earth...?’

‘I am so grateful for your own efforts, last year and now, to maintain my reputation in society,’ she continued determinedly. ‘So thankful that Jeffrey has had you to help him through these trying months since our father died. And...’ she looked up at him helplessly ‘...and, yes, I am more gratified than I have cared to admit, until now, that you have helped rid the world of a monster such as André Rousseau.’ That last admission was against everything she had been brought up to believe in regard to the sanctity of human life.

It was also, Georgianna now accepted, a large part of why she had been so angry with Zachary when he had informed her of André’s death. Because, having lived in fear of discovery by André these past few months, she had wanted him to be dead. Wished him so. And she had inwardly rejoiced yesterday when Zachary had told her André was indeed dead.

It was a reaction, a rejoicing, of which she had felt heartily ashamed.

But that shame and anger were directed towards herself, not Zachary. ‘I was ashamed to admit it until now,’ she admitted huskily.

‘But you loved him. Love him still, damn it.’

Her eyes widened. ‘I most certainly do not. I...’ She paused, chewing briefly on her bottom lip before continuing. ‘I fear I have been less than honest, with myself, and with you, on that matter.’

Zachary gave a grimace. ‘Your reaction yesterday, your distress, were evidence enough of how you felt. That you still had feelings for the man,’ he added harshly.

‘No,’ Georgianna denied vehemently. ‘Never that. Never,’ she repeated with a shudder of revulsion. ‘The truth of the matter is—I realised some time ago—Zachary, I do not believe I was ever truly in love with André.’ She gave a pained grimace at the admission. ‘I was very naïve, flattered by his attentions and desperate to escape a loveless marriage and, I now know, in love with love rather than André himself.’

Zachary stared at her searchingly for long, tense moments, before turning abruptly to cross the room and seat himself behind his imposing mahogany desk. That she had not loved Rousseau after all was no reason to suppose, to hope, she would ever love him.

‘I am gratified to you—’ he nodded ‘—for allowing me to know that Rousseau’s death has not succeeded in breaking your heart, as I previously believed it to have done.’

Georgianna could hear the but in his voice.

But the admission made no difference to the outcome of their own conversation, perhaps?

Whether or not that was true, Georgianna had no intentions of leaving here tonight without there being complete honesty between herself and Zachary. After which, fate, or rather Zachary, could do with her what it would. ‘Are you not interested to know how it is I came to be certain I was never in love with André?’

His mouth twisted wryly. ‘No doubt it is difficult to continue to love a man whom you knew had attempted to kill you.’

‘Indeed.’ She nodded ruefully. ‘Almost as difficult, in fact, as finding you have fallen in love with the very same gentleman whose hand in marriage you had once shunned so cruelly.’

Zachary rose sharply to his feet. ‘Georgianna?’ His eyes glittered as he gazed across at her uncertainly.

Her heart was now beating so erratically, so loudly in her chest, she felt sure that Zachary could not help but be aware of it, too, despite the distance between them. ‘It is the truth, Zachary.’ She forced herself to forge ahead, to not retreat or back down, now that she had come so far. ‘Since I returned to England you have shown me a side of yourself I did not know existed. That I did not even dare dream existed. On the outside you are so very much the cool and arrogant Duke of Hawksmere, so very much in control. But inwardly there is a kindness to you, one which you try to hide, but which shines through anyway.’

‘And you reached this conclusion by my having locked you in my bedchamber? By my making love to you at every opportunity?’ He raised incredulous brows.

‘I reached that conclusion by knowing that you could have been so much harsher with me, after the way I had behaved in the past. By knowing that you were complicit in protecting my reputation, despite that behaviour. By your overwhelming kindness to Jeffrey these past months. And by the realisation this evening, the certainty,’ she declared determinedly as he would have spoken, ‘that your reasons for seeing André dispatched were not, as I had supposed, because of loyalty to England, or because of a personal grudge you held against him, for having dared to elope with your future bride.’

‘Dear God, you thought that of me?’

Colour warmed the paleness of her cheeks. ‘I am ashamed to say it occurred to me those might be your reasons.’

‘I did it because of you, Georgianna. Because André had attempted to kill you.’ Zachary’s hands were clenched at his side.

It was as Georgianna had thought earlier when he’d pleaded with her so emotionally.

‘Just leave it on the side table there,’ Zachary instructed his butler harshly as the man entered after the briefest of knocks, holding aloft the tray with the decanter and glasses. ‘And in future, would you please knock and wait before entering any room in which Lady Georgianna and I are alone together?’ he added, his gaze remaining intent upon Georgianna.

‘Certainly, your Grace.’ The butler placed the tray upon the side table. ‘Will that be all, your Grace?’

Zachary barely resisted the impulse to tell the man to go to the devil, wishing to be alone again with Georgianna, to continue their conversation. To hear her repeat that she had fallen in love with him.

Something he hardly dared to believe.

‘You may retire for the night, Hinds,’ Zachary dismissed distractedly. ‘And thank you.’

His butler gave him another startled glance before gathering himself and leaving the room. As evidence perhaps that Zachary’s temper had been less than pleasant this past few days?

As no doubt it had, caught up in the pained whirlpool of his uncertainty in his own emotions, as he had surely been.

‘Is that not a strange request to make of your butler, when there is no reason to suppose that the two of us might ever be alone together in a room in this house again?’ Georgianna queried huskily.

Zachary stepped out from behind his desk. ‘There is every reason to suppose it, Georgianna.’ He strode purposefully towards her before grasping both of her hands in his. ‘Believe me, when I tell you, that these past three weeks I have come to love and admire you beyond anything and anyone else in this world.’

‘Zachary?’ she choked out emotionally.

‘Georgia, will you please, I beg of you, consent to becoming my wife?’

Georgianna stared up at him wonderingly, sure Zachary could not truly have told her that he loved her, too. That he had begged her to marry him?

His hands tightened about hers as he obviously mistook her silence for hesitation. ‘And not because of any ridiculous clause in my father’s will, either. Indeed, if you require it as proof of the sincerity of my feelings for you, I will give away half of the Hawksmere fortune to my cousin Rufus forthwith, as my father’s will decrees if I do not have an heir by my thirty fifth birthday. Anything, if you will consent to become my wife immediately.’

Georgianna’s mouth felt very dry, and after its wild pounding earlier she was sure her heart had now ceased to beat altogether. ‘Is your cousin in need of half the Hawksmere fortune?’

‘Thanks to Rufus’s business acumen, he is already one of the richest men in London.’ Zachary bared his teeth in a brief smile before just as quickly sobering. ‘Nevertheless, I will happily give him the money, if it will ensure that you believe I am sincere in my declaration of love for you. If you will only consent to become my wife as soon as it can be arranged?’

Georgianna had no idea what she had expected the outcome of her visit here this evening to be, but she knew she had certainly never expected it to be the complete and utter happiness of hearing Hawksmere declare his love for her and his asking her to marry him.

Her vision was blurred by those tears of happiness. ‘You truly love me?’

‘To the point of madness,’ Zachary assured fervently. ‘Indeed, I believe I have been half-insane with the emotion these past few days.’ The intensity of his gaze held her. ‘I love you so very much, Georgianna Rose Lancaster.’

‘As I love you, Zachary Richard Edward Black,’ she answered him huskily. ‘Completely. And always.’

His face lit up. ‘Then put all of the past behind us and consent to marry me.’

She swallowed. ‘Are you absolutely sure that is what you want, Zachary? My reappearance in society is still tenuous.’

‘What are you suggesting, Georgianna?’ Zachary demanded. ‘That I should make you my mistress rather than marry you? That I should hide you away somewhere?’

‘I am something of a novelty in society just now, Zachary, but if anyone should ever learn of my elopement with André...’

‘They will not discover it,’ Zachary announced arrogantly. ‘And even if they did, none would dare to question the reputation of the Duchess of Hawksmere.’

It was a name, a title, when used in connection to herself, that had once filled Georgianna with such dread. Now it only filled her with a happiness that threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I am so in love with you, Zachary. So very, very much, my darling. And if you are serious in your proposal of marriage...?’

‘I will accept nothing less,’ he assured firmly.

She glowed up at him. ‘Then I believe I should much prefer that you keep the Hawksmere fortune intact for our children, when they are born.’

‘Georgianna?’ Zachary had almost been afraid to hope, to dream, that Georgianna would ever accept his proposal. ‘You truly will consent to become my wife?’ His fingers tightened painfully about hers. ‘You will marry me as soon as a special licence can be arranged?’

She nodded happily. ‘And Jeffrey shall give me away and one of your friends, Wolfingham, perhaps, shall stand up with you. Oh, yes, I will marry you, Zachary. Yes, yes, please, yes.’ She launched herself into his arms as his mouth swooped down to once again claim hers.

* * *

‘You were very brave to come here alone this evening, my love,’ Zachary murmured admiringly some time later, Georgianna’s head resting on his chest as the two of them lay on the chaise in his study together. He played with her curls, having once again released her hair so that it cascaded loosely down her back.

She laughed softly, contentedly, the two of them having professed their love for each other over and over again this past hour or more. ‘To confront the fierce lion in his den?’

‘To have completely tamed the lion in his den,’ Zachary corrected with humour. ‘Indeed, I find I am so much in love with you I very much doubt I shall ever be able to deny you anything in future, love.’

Georgianna hesitated, knowing that there was still one thing that she had not confessed to her beloved. The last confession.

When she first returned to England she had been too angry at Hawksmere’s incarceration of her, to talk of such things, and since then there had been no right time, no opportunity, for her to do so.

‘What is it, Georgia?’ Zachary sat up slightly as he sensed her sudden tension. His hands gently cupped either side of her face as he looked down at her searchingly. ‘Tell me, my love.’

She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘I— It is only— A lady should not talk of such things,’ she choked out emotionally.

‘Now you are seriously worrying me, love.’ Zachary frowned. ‘We have talked about so much this past hour. The past, the now, our future together. What on earth is there that still bothers you so much that you look as if you are about to cry?’

Georgianna felt as if she were about to cry. It was all too embarrassing. Too humiliating.

Her gaze dropped from his as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘When I eloped with André...’

‘I thought we had agreed earlier that we would not discuss that ever again,’ Zachary reminded with chiding gentleness.

‘Just this one thing, Zachary,’ she pleaded. ‘It is important, if we are to be married.’

‘We are most certainly going to be married and sooner rather than later.’ Zachary had never been as happy as he had felt this past hour of knowing that Georgianna loved him, that she had consented to marry him. He could not bear it if that happiness—if a lifetime with Georgianna as his wife, should ever be snatched away from him.

‘Whatever you have yet to tell me, never doubt my love for you, Georgianna. Never. Do you understand?’ He held her tightly against him. ‘Be assured, nothing you have to say, now or in the future, will ever change that,’ he added with certainty.

Georgianna looked up at him wonderingly, moved beyond measure at the knowledge that Zachary loved her so deeply, so unconditionally. The same deep intensity of emotion with which she now loved him. ‘It is nothing bad, my love,’ she assured huskily as she reached up to stroke his cheek. ‘Only embarrassing for me to speak of,’ she conceded ruefully.

‘I grow more intrigued by the moment, my love.’ He eyed her quizzically.

‘Where to start?’ Georgianna pulled out of his arms before standing up and turning away slightly, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her. ‘When I eloped with André—allow me to finish, my love, please!’ she begged as Zachary made a noise of protest. ‘We spent several uncomfortable days being jostled about in the coach together on the way to the seaport. We passed the sea journey as brother and sister in separate cabins. And once we reached Paris...’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘You are well aware of what transpired within days of our reaching the French capital.’

Zachary’s narrowed gaze remained intently on Georgianna as he slowly stood up to move softly to her side, reaching down to lift her chin so that he might gaze down directly, searchingly, into the frankness of those violet-coloured eyes. ‘Are you saying...?’ He drew in a sharp breath, hardly daring to believe.

‘I am saying that André and I had never shared any more than a few chaste kisses before we eloped and that he did not so much as kiss me during the whole of our journey to France.’

‘Georgianna?’

She swallowed. ‘The intensity, depth, of our own lovemaking was—is, the first I have ever known.’

‘Can it be? Are you a virgin still, Georgianna?’ Zachary prompted tensely.

The colour deepened in her cheeks as she nodded. ‘I could not bear to tell you before now.’ She grasped tightly to the front of his waistcoat as she gazed up at him imploringly. ‘The Zachary I met on my return to England would have enjoyed tormenting me with that knowledge. Would have mocked and taunted me as to André’s disinterest in me. Would have—’

‘Hush, my love.’ Zachary placed a silencing fingertip against her lips, his heart having swelled almost to bursting point in his chest.

He had long ago accepted that Georgianna had been Rousseau’s lover and it had made no difference to the deep love and admiration, respect, that he now felt for her. But to now realise, to know, that Georgianna had never, would never, belong to any other man but him?

It was a priceless gift. A gift beyond anything Zachary might ever have imagined.

‘I took such liberties with you.’ He groaned, disgusted with himself. ‘I was far too rough in my lovemaking. Too advanced in the things I did to you and demanded from you in return.’

‘I loved the way you made love to me, Zachary, and so enjoyed making love to you,’ she admitted shyly. ‘Indeed, I cannot wait to repeat it.’

‘That will not happen until after we are married,’ he assured her determinedly.

She chuckled throatily. ‘Can it be that Zachary Black, the arrogant and haughty Duke of Hawksmere, has now become prim and respectable?’

‘You may take it that Zachary Black, the arrogant and haughty Duke of Hawksmere,’ he repeated huskily, ‘intends to cherish and love, to make love to, Georgianna Rose Black, Duchess of Hawksmere, and only Georgianna Rose Black, Duchess of Hawksmere, for the rest of their lives together.’

It was so much more, so indescribably, wonderfully, ecstatically more than Georgianna Rose Lancaster, soon to be Black, could ever have hoped or dreamed of.

* * * * *