He gave that derisive smile. ‘No doubt.’
Georgianna gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘You really do mean to keep me a prisoner here, then?’
His jaw tightened. ‘For the moment, yes.’
She sighed. ‘An occurrence which I can see does not suit you any more than it does me.’
He shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘It would seem that neither one of us has a choice in the matter. But there is a bright side to all of this, Georgianna,’ he added softly as he crossed the bedchamber with those soft and predatory steps. ‘Just think, you did not have to marry me in order to share my bedchamber.’
Georgianna refused to be intimidated as Hawksmere now stood just inches away from her. So close, in fact, that she could see every detail of the livid scar upon his throat, as well as the dark stubble on his jaw, evidence that he had not yet had time to shave today. Indeed, his evening clothes from the night before showed that he had not so much as taken the time to change his clothes yet this morning.
Because, despite his scepticism towards her earlier, he had believed enough of what she told him to not waste any time in sharing that information?
Georgianna certainly hoped that was the case.
She could bear any amount of Hawksmere’s mockery, as well as his scorn and disgust, if at the same time he helped to thwart this latest plot to liberate Napoleon from Elba.
She gave a humourless smile. ‘We must all be grateful for small mercies, your Grace.’
Zachary’s bark of laughter was completely spontaneous. A genuine appreciation of Georgianna’s continued feistiness, despite the direness of the situation in which she now found herself.
And not much succeeded in amusing Zachary any more.
As an only child, he had inherited the Hawksmere title eleven years ago, upon the death of both his parents in a carriage accident. The years that followed had been lonely as well as busy ones, mainly filled with the responsibilities of his title, and fighting against Napoleon, in open battle, and secretly as an agent for the Crown.
Those same years had shown him that women, young and old, thin or plump, fair or dark, single or married, were willing to do almost anything for the attentions of a duke. This had resulted in a jading, a cynicism within him, beyond Zachary’s control.
It appeared Georgianna Lancaster was the exception.
Not only had she chosen to run away from becoming his duchess ten months ago, but even now she continued to defy and challenge him in ways that no other woman ever had.
‘I believe I prefer you feisty and defiant, Georgianna, rather than the naïve ninny you were ten months ago,’ Zachary murmured appreciatively as he looked down searchingly into the pale face she held up to challenge him. The arching of her slender neck allowed those ebony curls to fall silkily down the length of her spine to her pert little bottom.
‘A naïve ninny you nevertheless intended to make your wife,’ she reminded scathingly.
He shrugged. ‘I believed you to be a malleable ninny then.’
Her brows rose. ‘And now?’
Zachary gave a slow and appreciative smile. ‘Now I believe this added fire makes you more appealing than I might otherwise have expected.’
Georgianna shuddered, keeping a watchful eye on Hawksmere as she instinctively took a step back from him. She was wary of the way in which his eyes now glittered down at her so intently, almost as if a white light had been ignited in those silver depths. Georgianna was unsure of precisely what that flame might mean, but she did know that she no longer wished to stand quite so close to him.
Hawksmere took that same step forward before raising his hand to gently cup one side of her face, the soft pad of his thumb moving in a soft caress across her parted lips. ‘There is nowhere you would be able to run this time, Georgianna, that I would not find you.’
Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest: at Hawksmere’s threats, his proximity, and the effects of that caressing thumb against her lips. A sensuous caress, much as Georgianna might wish it otherwise, which caused a heat to course through her whole body, leaving her skin feeling flushed and tight and her breasts swelling uncomfortably beneath her gown.
Because, as Hawksmere had claimed earlier, she was aroused by his touch?
How could that possibly be, when she disliked this man, when she had run from him, from the very idea of becoming his wife, less than a year ago?
Perhaps it was just that she had been alone, and lonely, for so very long? Too long without the gentle touch of another? Since she had been held by another? Looked at with warmth, if not affection?
Except the warmth in Hawksmere’s gaze was so clearly predatory rather than affectionate.
Georgianna pulled back sharply from the mesmerising effect of that silver gaze. ‘I have no intentions of running anywhere,’ she assured him decisively. At least, not until this matter of Napoleon’s liberation was settled. ‘Did you go to your superior this morning and report my information?’
Zachary continued to look down at Georgianna for several long moments more. His response to her was undeniable. To her beauty, her proximity, to having touched and caressed those soft and pouting lips. Totally undeniable, when his erection pressed so insistently against the front of his breeches.
‘And what business is it of yours whether I did or I did not?’ He arched a challenging brow.
‘But...’ she blinked her bewilderment ‘...I am the one responsible for giving you that information.’
He nodded abruptly. ‘All the more reason for it to be mistrusted, surely? What did you expect, Georgianna?’ he taunted as she looked pained. ‘Did you think that by returning to England, by twittering about some ridiculous plot of how Napoleon intends to leave Elba before the end of the month, that all would be forgiven? That you would be a heroine, and could then return to your family, to society?’ he prompted cruelly.
Those striking eyes became misty with unshed tears. ‘I am well aware there can be no forgiveness, in any quarter, for the way I have behaved,’ she spoke so softly Zachary could barely hear her, as her tears fell unchecked down the paleness of her cheeks.
Zachary felt instant regret for his deliberate cruelty. Whatever this woman might have done to him personally in the past, there was an undeniable vulnerability about her now, an aloneness, that Zachary knew he could relate to.
He breathed deeply through his nose. ‘Perhaps that situation is not quite so bleak as you think it is.’
She tilted her head curiously. ‘What do you mean?’
He owed this woman nothing except his contempt and distrust, Zachary reminded himself impatiently. Certainly not absolution for her deeds of ten months ago.
And yet...
He was not a deliberately cruel man, no matter what others might say or think to the contrary. He considered their past association.
Could Georgianna really be blamed for what had happened in their past? She was a young girl of only nineteen who’d feared, to the extent of running away from marriage to a man who had not even troubled himself in getting to know her before offering for her. He’d been a man who had not even spoken to her before making that offer. And once made, she’d had that offer accepted by her father without knowing a thing about it—or him.
Much as it galled him, Zachary knew he must accept some of the blame for the way in which Georgianna had run away back then.
But not for what had happened since that time, or the possible depth of her continued involvement with Rousseau.
He hardened