As Zachary now wished to kill Rousseau.
His hands clenched on his thighs with the need he felt to encircle the other man’s throat and squeeze until no more air could enter Rousseau’s lungs. To make him suffer, as Georgianna had surely suffered. First, by her humiliation in the man’s duplicity. Then by being shot and left for dead. Regaining consciousness days later, only to find she was blind and in terrible pain. And then the months spent in Paris after that, and still fearing for her life. The latter because of her loyalty to England. A loyalty Zachary had distrusted and mocked her for, again to the point of cruelty.
Zachary was heartily ashamed of his harsh behaviour towards Georgianna these past two days. For having disbelieved her. For taunting her. And for then having made love to her, as if she were no better than that whore she had earlier denied being.
He could only try to make amends for those wrongs and hope that Georgianna might one day be able to forgive him.
And Rousseau deserved to die for his treatment of her.
Zachary intended seeing that it happened. Before too many days had passed, if he had his way. And he would. Because, in his eyes, Rousseau was no more than a rabid dog in need of being put down. Not for his loyalty to Napoleon, but for using an innocent, such as Georgianna had once been, to achieve his ends. For attempting and believing he had killed her when she was of no further use to him.
None of which helped to ease the burden of what Zachary now had to reveal to Georgianna, before then watching the hatred and contempt that would burn in those beautiful violet-coloured eyes towards him.
He drew in a long, controlling breath. ‘I am taking you to your brother at Malvern House.’
Georgianna sat forward with a start, her face paling beneath her black bonnet. ‘You cannot.’ Her eyes were wide in her distress. ‘Zachary, how can you be so cruel as to humiliate me further, by having my own brother turn away from me? I told you the truth earlier. I showed you.’
‘There will be no humiliation, Georgianna.’ Zachary sat forward on his own seat to reach out and grasp both of her tiny gloved hands in his, knowing it was possibly the last time she would allow him such familiarity. ‘There will be no humiliation for you, Georgianna, and your brother will not turn away from you,’ he assured evenly, ‘because there was no scandal.’
She stilled at the same time as she blinked rapidly to hold back the tears now glistening in her eyes. ‘I do not understand,’ she finally murmured huskily.
And Zachary had no wish to tell her when he knew it would result in those beautiful eyes hardening with hatred for him. But his behaviour towards Georgianna this past two days allowed for no mercy being given on his own behalf. He deserved no forgiveness from her, no mercy. For any of the things he had said and done to her.
He released her hands to sit back against his seat as he looked across at her between narrowed lids. ‘The notification of the ending of our betrothal appeared in the newspapers only a week after it was announced.’
Guilt coloured her cheeks. ‘I expected no other.’
‘That announcement stated,’ Zachary continued firmly, ‘that Lady Georgianna Rose Lancaster had decided, after all, against marrying Zachary Richard Edward Black, the Duke of Hawksmere.’
‘But that is not what happened!’
‘It also stated that it was your intention to retire to the Malvern country estate for the remainder of the Season,’ Zachary completed determinedly.
Georgianna now looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
‘Your father died in a riding accident only a month later,’ Zachary continued evenly, ‘at which time it was decided between your brother Jeffrey and myself that he would announce that you both intended to remain secluded at Malvern Hall for your time of mourning.’
She swallowed. ‘What are you saying?’
Zachary drew in a deep breath before answering softly. ‘That ther
e was no scandal. As is acceptable, you were the one to end our betrothal and since then it is believed you have been living quietly at Malvern Hall with your brother.’
‘How can this be?’ Georgianna gave a dazed shake of her head.
The duke moved restlessly. ‘Your father, brother and I discussed it after it was discovered you had eloped with Duval, or Rousseau, as he was later discovered to be. It was your family’s hope that you would be found and returned before—well, before any harm might be done to your reputation and without any but the close family, and myself, being the wiser for it.’
Georgianna’s cheeks became even more flushed in acknowledgement of the harm to which Hawksmere referred. ‘And you agreed with this decision?’
Hawksmere’s mouth tightened. ‘Yes.’
‘Because such an announcement lessened your own humiliation?’
His mouth thinned. ‘No doubt that was part of it,’ he allowed drily. ‘But I hope I also thought of you, and your family, in that decision. I am not a vindictive man, Georgianna,’ he assured evenly as she now looked at him blankly. ‘No matter the impression I may have given to the contrary these past two days,’ he acknowledged heavily.
Georgianna did not believe Hawksmere’s behaviour to have been particularly vindictive towards her. She knew that she had fully deserved his anger, for her having eloped with another man so soon after the announcement of their own betrothal, causing him embarrassment. As she also deserved the distrust Zachary felt in regard to her return, when he knew that the man she had eloped with was actually a spy for Napoleon.
But this? Having allowed her to continue to think, these past two days, that she was unforgiven by her father and a pariah to her brother, the only family she had left in the world, as well as ostracised in society, was another matter entirely.