The duke looked puzzled. ‘And yet it so obviously distressed you when I informed you of his demise yesterday afternoon.’
She moistened dry lips. ‘I am, of course, sorry to hear of the death of any man or woman, but I cannot in all conscience say I am sorry that André is no longer here to torment or frighten me.’
‘But you blame me still for instigating that death.’
She had never blamed him for André’s death, only questioned the reasoning behind it. But to reveal that to Zachary now must surely also reveal the depth of her own feelings for him.
A depth of feeling he so obviously did not return, nor would he ever do so.
In the circumstances, it was humiliating enough, surely, that she had now realised she had fallen in love with the man she’d once so passionately despised. Surely she did not need for Zachary to be made aware of her humiliation, too?
‘Georgianna?’ he prompted softly now.
She gave a dismissive shake of her head as she avoided looking into that searching silver gaze. ‘I blame no one for André’s death but André himself.’
He let out a shaky breath. ‘I wish I could believe that was true.’
‘You may be assured that it is. I was shocked to learn of his death, nothing more. But I believe I must go back inside now,’ she added quickly as she realised he was about to question her further on the subject. ‘It is somewhat colder out here than I had realised.’
‘Here, take my jacket.’ Zachary began to shrug his shoulders out of the close-fitting garment.
‘No.’ Georgianna had taken a horrified step backwards at the suggestion. She was already completely physically aware of Zachary, of his closeness, his warmth, his tempting masculinity, without being surrounded by the warmth and smell of him, too, as she would be if he were to now place his jacket about her shoulders. ‘I really must go back inside.’ She took another step back.
Zachary sighed heavily, as he obviously saw her efforts to put yet more distance between them. ‘If it is not Rousseau causing you to now flinch away from me, then I can only presume— Jeffrey lost no time last night in informing you of the conditions of my father’s will, I take it?’ A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw.
Her chin rose. ‘No.’
He nodded. ‘There is no excuse for the selfishness of my actions last year. I deeply regret— I am sorry for— Damn it, would you perhaps consider forgiving me if I were to get down on my knees and beg?’ he grated harshly, eyes glittering fiercely in the moonlight.
Exactly what was Zachary asking forgiveness for?
For that cold and cynical offer of marriage he had made for her last year?
For his distrust and mistreatment of her when she’d returned to England three weeks ago?
For having made love to her so exquisitely that just to be near him again now made her tremble with that knowledge?
For being complicit in, if not personally responsible, for André’s death?
For having made her fall in love with him?
Georgianna had already forgiven Zachary for those other things, but the love she now felt for him, a love she knew he would never return, was like a painful barb in her chest. And would, she believed, remain so for the rest of her life.
It was not Zachary’s fault she had fallen in love with him, of course, but…
To have Zachary get down on his knees in front of her for any reason? To hear him beg for her forgiveness?
No.
Never!
It was unthinkable in such an aristocratic and proud man.
In the man she now realised she loved with all her heart.
‘No,’ she answered decisively. ‘Can you not see how impossible it all is, Zachary?’ she added forcefully as he scowled darkly. ‘That apologies between us now are— That on their own they are not enough?’
Zachary had nothing else to offer Georgianna but his sincere contrition for any and all of his past misdeeds to her. A contrition Georgianna now made it obvious she neither wanted nor wished to hear. It was as he had suspected: Georgianna could never forgive him. For any of his actions, in the past, or now.