‘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.
‘I should warn you, though, I have reason to believe the man may recognise me,’ Zachary warned, unconsciously touching the definitive scar upon his throat.
Wolfingham nodded. ‘What would you like me to do in order to divert his cohorts?’
Zachary gave a hard grin. ‘Succinct and to the point—I have always liked that about you.’
‘A man who would treat a woman in such a despicable way does not deserve to live.’