The Regency Season Collection: Part One. Кэрол Мортимер
Zachary had left him where he lay in his own blood as he hurried back to Wolfingham’s side, putting a supporting arm about his friend as they made good their own escape. The two of them hid at the dockside until it was time for them to board their ship and set sail back to England that same night.
The satisfaction of being able to tell Rousseau, before he died, that Georgianna still lived became a hollow victory as Zachary now saw the way Georgianna looked across the room at him with emotionless eyes.
‘I am leaving, of course,’ she answered his earlier question flatly. ‘I presume informing me of André’s death was the reason you wished to speak with me today?’ She arched cool brows.
There was such a coolness about her, a distance, that frustrated Zachary intensely. Had he been wrong, misread the situation completely, and Georgianna did indeed still have feelings for the man who had once been her lover?
‘You should know I have absolutely no regrets concerning Rousseau’s death,’ he assured through gritted teeth. Wolfingham had no cause for regrets in the matter, either, had merely been defending himself when Rousseau met his end. If Rousseau had not died, then Wolfingham assuredly would have, and that was totally unacceptable to Zachary. ‘A friend of mine was also grievously wounded that night.’
Georgianna frowned slightly. ‘Wolfingham?’
‘Yes.’
‘But he lives still?’
‘No thanks to your friend Rousseau.’
‘He was never my friend.’ Her eyes glittered, with the fierceness of her anger as well as unshed tears. ‘I must go.’
‘Georgianna!’
She gave a fierce shake of her head. ‘We have nothing left to talk about, Hawksmere.’
Addressing him as Hawksmere was indication enough of how Georgianna now felt towards him, the cold dismissal in her tone only adding to that obvious disdain.
And pride, though a cold bedfellow, was preferable to Zachary having his further pleas for her understanding rejected out of hand. ‘I will see you again this evening, when I accompany you and Jeffrey to Lady Colchester’s musical soirée.’
Georgianna gave a shake of her head. ‘I am not sure I feel well enough to attend.’
‘You most certainly will attend, Georgianna.’ Zachary grated harshly. ‘Not only will you attend, but you will also give every appearance of enjoyment in the enterprise. In appearing at my side, along with Jeffrey, as my two wards.’
She raised her chin in challenge. ‘I am sure you know me well enough by now, Hawksmere, to know that I shall not be bullied into doing anything I do not wish to do, by you or anyone else.’
His jaw tightened, eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Nevertheless, it was planned for this evening to be your first appearance back into society, following your period of mourning. As such, as your guardian, I must insist that you accompany Jeffrey and me.’
She looked across at him searchingly, knowing by the coldness in Zachary’s eyes, the bleakness of his expression and the nerve pulsing in the tightness of his jaw, that he meant exactly what he said. Nor could she deny the importance of her appearance at Lady Colchester’s tonight, following what many in society believed to have been the ending of her engagement to Hawksmere and her term of mourning her father. ‘We shall see,’ she finally answered noncommittally.
This young woman would surely be the death of him, Zachary acknowledged impatiently. Either that, or he might go quietly and completely insane.
How could it be that just a few moments ago the two of them had been so enjoyably making love together, as close as any two people could be—certainly as close as Zachary had been to any woman—and now they were as distant as they had been ten months ago? More so, for then Zachary had not really known what it was to be close to Georgianna, had never so much as even spoken to her; now he knew exactly what, and who, he would be losing when she walked out of his life for a second time.
The woman he had come to admire above all others.
Georgianna.
Georgia.
‘I do believe you are alarming our poor hostess with the darkness of your scowls, Zachary,’ an amused voice drawled beside him as Zachary stood near one of the windows in Lady Colchester’s music room during a break in the entertainments.
His eyes widened as he turned to look at Wolfingham. ‘Should you be out and about when you are still recovering from a bullet wound to your shoulder?’
‘It would look decidedly odd if I were absent from society for any length of time. Besides which, needs must, I am afraid.’ Wolfingham gave a grimace.
‘Oh?’
His friend nodded abruptly. ‘I do not suppose you have seen anything of my little brother this evening?’
Zachary’s brows rose. ‘Should I have done?’ As far as he was aware, young Lord Anthony Hunter had been fortunate enough not to have put in even a nominal appearance at Lady Colchester’s musical soirée. Not unless he had arrived and left before Zachary and his party arrived.
‘Obviously not,’ Wolfingham uttered disgustedly.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘If there is, then it is for me to deal with,’ his friend dismissed briskly. ‘What were you scowling at so intently just now?’ Wolfingham glanced across the room in the direction Zachary had been scowling earlier. ‘Who is the honeypot attracting all the bees?’
Zachary did not at all appreciate hearing Georgianna described as a honeypot. Even if that was exactly what she had been from the moment they arrived at Lady Colchester’s home several hours ago.
Georgianna was resplendent in a gown of purple silk, a strip of lace styled discreetly across the tops of her breasts, and so concealing that damning scar, with a matching purple feather adorning the darkness of her curls.
They had barely had time to greet their hostess before the first of the handsome young bucks began to flock about them. Most of them acquaintances of her brother, Jeffrey, eager to be re-introduced to his beautiful sister. But there had been some older gentlemen, too. Single gentlemen, of Zachary’s own age and older, attracted no doubt by the air of untouchable remoteness with which Georgianna appeared to have steeled herself in order to endure appearing at this evening’s entertainment.
A remoteness, which had thawed throughout the evening until, as now, she appeared to be enjoying the attentions of so many handsome gentlemen. The wariness had slowly faded from her gaze, a becoming blush now adorning her cheeks, and those two familiar dimples having appeared in those same cheeks when she smiled, at what were no doubt flattering and flirtatious comments being made to and about her.
And for the whole of this time Zachary had wished for nothing more than to dismiss the attentions of every single one of those handsome and fawning gentlemen, before whisking Georgianna away somewhere they could be private together.
So, yes, Wolfingham’s description of his having been scowling minutes ago—enough so as to have warned off the approach of all and any who were not closely acquainted with him, who were very few—was no doubt an accurate one.
‘My ward, Lady Georgianna Lancaster,’ he now supplied.
Wolfingham continued to look at Georgianna consideringly. ‘This is the same young woman to whom you were so briefly betrothed last year?’
‘Yes.’
The other man’s brows rose. ‘She appears to be much changed from a year ago.’
Zachary’s mouth tightened at the reasons for those changes, in both Georgianna’s appearance and