Dangerous Dukes 01 - Zachary Black - Duke of Debauchery

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘And does my brother know I shall be returning to him today?’

  ‘I sent him a note earlier informing him so and have received confirmation back from him, yes,’ Hawksmere added softly.

  ‘And does he welcome me back, despite knowing of my past behaviour?’

  ‘He holds Rousseau completely responsible for past events.’

  ‘Then I may return to my brother, my home, into society, without fear of rejection?’

  A nerve pulsed in the tightness of Hawksmere’s jaw. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you have known this since we met again yesterday, known how much it pains me to think of my father’s disappointment in me, to be estranged from Jeffrey? And yet you have continued to let me believe…’ Georgianna did not even take the time to consider her next action, merely reacted, eyes glittering angrily as she lifted her hand and stuck Hawksmere across one hard and arrogant cheek.

  Zachary had seen the angry spark in Georgianna’s eyes, had noted the lifting of her gloved hand and guessed her intent. He’d made no attempt to avoid the painful slap she administered to the side of his face. Knowing he deserved it. That he deserved so much more than a single slap.

  So, yes, let Georgianna slap him. Again and again, if that was her wish. Zachary would neither protest nor attempt to stop her.

  ‘You are truly despicable!’ Georgianna now glared across the width of the carriage at him. ‘A despicable, unprincipled bastard! Oh, yes, Hawksmere,’ she declared scornfully as he raised surprised dark brows. ‘I assure you, I heard far worse than that during my months of working in Helene Rousseau’s tavern. And you—you deserve to hear every one of those words for the way in which you have deceived me.’ She blinked back the tears as they now blurred her vision of the arrogantly superior face across from her own.

  ‘Perhaps we should take them as having already been said?’ Zachary excused himself gruffly.

  She gave an impatient shake of her head, her hands clenched together. ‘I have spent months in despair of ever being able to see or speak to my brother again. Of ever seeing my home again. Of knowing that all in English society shunned me. This past few days of believing I would never be able to visit my father’s graveside and beg his forgiveness. A despair which you might have spared me, if you had a mind to do so. If you had a heart with which to do so. Which you so obviously do not,’ she added coldly.

  Zachary had no defence against Georgianna’s accusations. He knew he was guilty of everything she now accused him of. Except perhaps the latter.

  It was true he had offered for Lady Georgianna Lancaster ten months ago because he needed a wife and an heir before his thirty-fifth birthday. It was true also that he had been more annoyed than concerned at the inconvenience when she had eloped with another man. As he had no doubt also agreed with Malvern’s solution to that problem, as a way of saving himself deeper humiliation, as much as he had Georgianna’s reputation.

  But he had not really known Georgianna at that time. Had seen only that plump pigeon, whom he’d decided would make him a suitable and undemanding wife, and a mother for his heirs.

  The Georgianna with whom he had spent so many hours these past two days was not only a beautiful woman, but one for whom he knew he had felt a grudging admiration even before she had revealed the extent of the scars she bore, as evidence of Rousseau’s betrayal of her.

  She was also a woman for whom Zachary felt desire every time he so much as looked at her.

  Even now, with her looking across at him with such contempt, Zachary was aware that his body pulsed with that same desire beneath his pantaloons.

  Perhaps not as proof that he did indeed possess a heart, but enough so that Zachary knew he felt regret for the wide chasm that now yawned between the two of them. Fuelled by the dislike and contempt Georgianna now felt towards him.

  His expression was grim as he nodded abruptly. ‘I deserve each and every one of your accusations.’

  She eyed him scathingly. ‘That was never in any doubt.’

  ‘No.’

  Georgianna frowned her frustration with the calmness of Hawksmere’s acceptance of her anger. What she really wanted was for him to mock or taunt her, as he usually did, so that she might have the satisfaction of slapping him again.

  At the same time she felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She could see her brother Jeffrey again. Could go to Malvern Hall and visit her father’s graveside and offer him her apologies for her behaviour the previous year. Could return to Malvern House if she wished. Take part in the upcoming Season, too, if that was what she decided to do.

  Not that she intended telling Hawksmere of any of the lightness and elation she felt; his contemptuous behaviour towards her this past two days did not deserve to be forgiven, or forgotten, so easily.

  At the same time as Georgianna knew she could never forget his lovemaking of earlier this morning.

  Having believed her to have been André’s mistress for several weeks, at least, Georgianna might have expected Zachary to show contempt for her during their lovemaking. Instead he had been poetical in his appreciation of her body. Giving, even gentle, in his caresses, as he introduced her to a pleasure she had never imagined, let alone experienced.

  But beneath all of that appreciation and gentleness Zachary had been keeping the secret that she was not in disgrace, after all, Georgianna reminded herself, impatient with the softening of her emotions towards him. Which surely must make him every inch that bastard she had just called him?

  ‘Again, I owe you my heartfelt apologies, Georgianna.’

  She looked sharply across at him, unsure what he was apologising for. For not telling her before now that she was not in disgrace in society? Or for the intimacies of this morning?

  Zachary sighed heavily as Georgianna made no response to his apology. ‘Except, of course, I do not possess a heart,’ he acknowledged evenly. ‘In which case, I will instead offer you my sincerest apologies. For having wronged you and hurt you these past two days.’

  Deliberately. And without remorse. Each word was like the lash of the whip across the flesh on his back.

  Georgianna looked across at him uncertainly. ‘And is that supposed to excuse your behaviour?’

  ‘No,’ Zachary answered heavily.

  ‘To make you feel better, perhaps?’ she added scornfully.

  He gave a humourless smile. ‘If it was, then I assure you it has failed miserably.’

  She raised haughty brows. ‘I trust you will understand when I say that I am glad of that?’

  How could he have ever thought this young woman was just a plump and malleable pigeon to be taken to the altar, impregnated, and then left forgotten and languishing on one of his country estates?

  Even without her terrible experiences of this past year, he very much doubted that Georgianna would ever have been that malleable wife he had deliberately sought, and expected. If he had taken the time and trouble to get to know her, then he would have realised she possessed far too much spirit, was too emotional, to have ever settled for just being his ignored duchess and the mother of his heirs.

  A spirit that was now denied him for ever.

  Georgianna, quite rightly, would never forgive him for having deceived her. For deliberately allowing her to think she was still in disgrace. For imprisoning her. For making love to her.

  ‘I understand, and completely accept, the anger you feel towards me.’ He nodded abruptly just as the carriage drew to a halt outside Malvern House. ‘Would you like me to come in with you or would you prefer to reconcile with your brother alone?’

  Georgianna felt extremely nervous now that they had actually arrived at Malvern House, the same house she had always lived in whilst in London. The house where her brother Jeffrey now awaited her.

  Her brother would be nineteen now and already he had been the Earl of Malvern this past nine months. Without benefit of even his sister to support him, with only that guardian, an elderly friend of her father’s, to guide and help
him.

  ‘Georgianna!’

  She was given no more time for those regrets, or the insecurity of wondering if Jeffrey really would be pleased by her return, as the carriage door was flung open and her brother himself hurtled inside the carriage before pulling her into his arms.

  Georgianna gave a sob as she clung to Jeffrey, totally overwhelmed by the eagerness of his greeting, and being with someone she loved and who obviously still loved her. It had been so long since anyone had held her so tenderly, so unconditionally. Hawksmere’s lovemaking did not count when she knew his motive had been revenge for her past misdemeanours towards him.

  Zachary felt the unaccustomed sting of tears in his own eyes as he witnessed the emotional reunion between brother and sister. Jeffrey with his usual youthful enthusiasm, Georgianna crying with joy as she clung to the younger brother she obviously adored and had missed so much.

  A reunion that Zachary could have allowed her much sooner than this, if he’d had a mind to do so.

  Georgianna might never forgive him for that, but Zachary knew he would never forgive himself, either. Or for any of his behaviour towards her these past two days.

  Behaviour for which he would happily have got down on his knees and begged for forgiveness if he had thought it would do any good!

  He raised a hand to the cheek that still stung from where Georgianna had slapped him just minutes ago. A vehemently delivered slap he had fully deserved.

  As he deserved the tearfully accusing gaze she now gave him over her brother’s shoulder.

  Jeffrey was the one to finally pull back as he continued to beam down at his sister. Their colouring was similar, both were dark haired and blue eyed. ‘Perhaps we should take this reunion into the house? Join us, Hawksmere?’ Jeffrey prompted lightly as he glanced at Zachary.

  Zachary saw the flash of resentment in Georgianna’s eyes as she remained tucked beneath her brother’s protective arm. ‘I think not, thank you, Jeffrey. I have several other things in need of my attention this morning.’ He excused himself.

  The younger man frowned his disappointment. ‘I thought you might at least come in for a few minutes?’

  Zachary bit back his impatience. ‘As I said, I have other things to do today.’

  ‘I am sure we have taken up enough of Hawksmere’s valuable time, Jeffrey,’ Georgianna exclaimed without so much as a glance in the duke’s direction.

  ‘I did not think.’ Jeffrey grimaced. ‘Of course you are busy. But perhaps you would like to join us for dinner later this evening?’

  ‘Jeffrey.’

  ‘That will not be possible, I am afraid,’ Hawksmere drawled over Georgianna’s alarmed protest.

  She blinked. ‘His Grace is leaving.’

  ‘For my country estate later today.’ Once again the duke rudely spoke over Georgianna, his eyes flashing a reproving silver as he gave her a pointed glare. Evidence that Jeffrey was not one of the people privileged to know of Hawksmere’s activities for the Crown.

  Georgianna felt the warmth of that rebuke in her cheeks as she lowered her gaze. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Thank you for returning my sister to me.’ Jeffrey grinned his pleasure at the older man as he held Georgianna close to his side.

  Hawksmere nodded abruptly. ‘I believe you will find that it was Georgianna who has returned herself to us all.’

  She looked up at him sharply, searching that hard and arrogant face for some indication of Hawksmere’s signature sarcasm and finding none. Instead he gazed across at her guardedly, as if unwilling to reveal his emotions. Which, no doubt, he was.

  She straightened before speaking formally. ‘I trust you will have a safe journey, your Grace.’

  ‘As do I,’ he drawled before turning to Jeffrey. ‘I will be in touch when I return to town, Malvern.’

  ‘We shall look forward to it, shall we not, Georgianna?’ Jeffrey beamed enthusiastically.

  ‘Of course,’ Georgianna concurred softly, purposefully not looking at Hawksmere, knowing she would see only mockery for her there, both of them aware that if they never saw each other again it would be too soon for either of them.

  And yet…

  Once Georgianna had alighted from the carriage and begun slowly walking up the steps to Malvern House beside her brother, she was aware of a feeling of discomfort as she heard Hawksmere’s carriage move on down the cobbled street. Of feeling slightly bereft at not knowing when, or if, she would see ever him again.

  She was angry with him, yes, as her slap to his cheek had demonstrated. But what if he did not return from France? She was not angry enough, did not dislike him enough, to never wish to see him again.

  Georgianna came to a halt on the top step into Malvern House before turning to gaze after Hawksmere’s carriage, catching a brief glimpse of his profile inside the carriage as it turned the corner before disappearing from view.

  ‘Are you well, Georgianna?’

  She turned to find Jeffrey looking down at her with concern, his eyes bluer than her violet-coloured ones, his boyish face having grown handsome, chiselled, this past year. No doubt from his added responsibilities as Earl of Malvern. ‘I am very happy to be home, thank you, Jeffrey,’ she assured him warmly.

  ‘You looked a little wistful for a moment. We shall see Hawksmere again very soon, I am sure,’ he added reassuringly. ‘He has become a regular visitor at Malvern House these past few months.’

  ‘He has?’ Georgianna looked up at her brother curiously as the two of them entered the house together, warmly accepting the butler’s beam of pleasure and kind words at seeing her returned to Malvern House.

  Jeffrey nodded. ‘I have found his guidance invaluable these past months.’

  ‘But what of your guardian? I would have thought that he would have been your mentor rather than Hawksmere?’ Georgianna handed Carter her bonnet and gloves.

  ‘Perhaps we should discuss this in the library,’ Jeffrey requested before turning to the butler. ‘Lady Georgianna and I would like hot chocolate and crumpets beside the fire, if you please, Carter.’

  Georgianna’s heart melted at the reminder of the way in which she and Jeffrey had passed many an afternoon together in the schoolroom when they were younger. ‘Oh, yes, please, Carter.’ She squeezed her brother’s arm as they walked companionably to the library. ‘It is so good to be back with you, Jeffrey,’ she spoke emotionally once they were seated opposite each other beside the warmth of the fire.

  Her brother sat forward, looking quite the dandy in his blue superfine and high-collared shirt. ‘And you will tell me all about your adventures in a minute,’ he promised. ‘But first, did Hawksmere not talk to you of our guardian?’

  ‘He mentioned that you have one,’ Georgianna answered carefully, not sure of exactly what Zachary had told Jeffrey in his note in regard to when, how and why she had returned to England.

  ‘We both have one, the same one, until we are both one and twenty,’ Jeffrey corrected ruefully.

  Georgianna’s eyes widened. ‘But…’ She had a guardian? After all she had been through this past ten months, the independence, the decisions she had been forced to make for herself, she now had to suffer having a guardian until her birthday in three months’ time? ‘Who is it?’ she demanded as a terrible foreboding began to wash over her.

  Jeffrey grinned. ‘Hawksmere, of course.’

  That was the very answer Georgianna had begun to suspect, and dread.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Would you care to tell me exactly what we are still doing in Paris, Zachary, when our mission was to sound out public feeling here, in regard to Napoleon’s imminent arrival in Paris, before returning to England with our report?’

  Zachary did not so much as glance at his companion as he kept his narrowed gaze levelled upon the establishment across the street from where the two of them stood, dressed as middle-class citizens of Paris.

  ‘Do you remember Bully Harrison from Eton?’

  There was a slight pause. ‘How could I forg
et him, when he took such pleasure in beating the younger boys at every opportunity?’ Wolfingham confirmed impatiently, green eyes hard. ‘I also remember you taking an even greater delight in giving him a beating of your own, as a warning for him to instantly cease those unpleasant activities. Which he did. But I do not see what Harrison has to do with us being here in Paris.’

  ‘There is an even worse bully inside that establishment.’ Zachary nodded in the direction of the Fleur de Lis tavern across the street. ‘A monster who took delight in hurting a woman.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Zachary confirmed grimly.

  ‘A woman of your acquaintance?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is she—? Did he hurt her very badly?’

  Zachary’s jaw tensed. ‘He lied to her. Seduced her. For his own selfish reasons. And, when she was of no further use to him, he shot her. Twice. Once in the chest and then in the head.’

  ‘Assassin!’ Wolfingham hissed.

  Zachary nodded. ‘Miraculously she did not die. But she now lives in daily fear of the monster discovering his failure. Of him seeking her out and completing the assassination.’

  Wolfingham glanced across at the tavern. ‘And he is in there now?’

  ‘I saw him enter a short time ago, with half-a-dozen cohorts.’ Zachary nodded.

  ‘Knife or pistol?’

  ‘I believe I told you that he shot her.’

  ‘I enquired as to whether you intend to use knife or pistol?’

  Zachary’s brow cleared slightly as he turned to look appreciatively at one of his closest friends. ‘I apologise for underestimating you, Wolfingham,’ he drawled ruefully. ‘And I shall use my pistol. I believe I should like him to know what it is like to stare down the barrel of a gun and know you are about to breathe your last,’ he added with grim satisfaction as he thought of how Georgianna must have suffered the night Rousseau attempted to kill her. And he wasn’t just thinking of her physical wounds, but the emotional ones he doubted would ever completely heal.

  There was little enough he could do to make amends for the emotional wounds he had inflicted on her since, but dispatching Rousseau was certainly a start.