She shrugged uninterestedly. ‘Will just have to wait.’
Zachary did not want to wait. Did not want to share Georgianna for another minute longer. With her friends. Her brother. Or the dozen or so eager young bucks watching them so curiously from across the room. No doubt all waiting for the moment they could pounce upon Georgianna again. If there was any pouncing to be done, then Zachary wished it to be only by him!
What he really wanted to do was to once again make Georgianna a prisoner in his bedchamber. To keep her there, making love to and with her, until she did not have the strength to even think of leaving him again.
It was a side of himself Zachary did not recognise. A side of himself which he was uncertain he wished to recognise.
His mouth thinned. ‘You are refusing to leave with me?’
‘I believe I must, yes.’ Georgianna gave him an impatient glance as his scowl of displeasure deepened. ‘You are acting very strangely this evening, Hawksmere.’
No doubt. He felt very strange, too. Felt most uncomfortable with the uncharacteristic emotions churning inside him. There was most certainly impatience at their surroundings. That restlessness to be alone with Georgianna. The desire to make love to her again. And that interminable, unacceptable jealousy of the other men, just waiting for the opportunity to fawn over and flatter her.
What did it all mean? This turmoil of emotions, this possessiveness he now felt towards Georgianna?
Until he knew the answer to those questions, perhaps he should not talk privately with Georgianna, after all, but instead go to his club? Perhaps with the intention of imbibing too much brandy? If only as a means of dulling this turmoil of unfathomable emotions that held him so tightly in its grip.
He removed his hand from the top of Georgianna’s arm as he stepped back to bow formally. ‘I will wish you a goodnight, then, Georgianna.’
Georgianna blinked her surprise at the abruptness of Zachary’s sudden capitulation to her refusal to leave with him, when just seconds ago he had seemed equally as determined that she would do so.
Would she ever understand this man?
Probably not, she conceded wearily. ‘Goodnight, your Grace.’
She bowed her head as she curtsied just as formally.
‘Georgianna.’
She glanced up at Hawksmere from beneath lowered lashes as she slowly straightened. ‘Yes?’
A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw, his face pale, a fevered glitter in the paleness of his silver eyes as the words seems forced out of him rather than given willingly. ‘Never mind,’ he muttered, his gaze no longer meeting hers. ‘I wish you joy for the rest of your evening.’ He gave another curt bow. ‘If you will excuse me? I will inform Jeffrey of my early departure.’
She nodded. ‘Your Grace.’
Zachary had never felt such heaviness in his chest before as he now felt walking away from Georgianna in search of Jeffrey Lancaster. He felt strangely as if he were leaving a part of himself behind. A very vital part. Almost as if he might never see Georgianna again after this evening. Which was ridiculous, when he was to be her guardian for another three months at least.
‘I believe you and I need to talk privately, Hawksmere.’
Zachary turned at the harsh sound of his younger ward’s voice, eyes n
arrowing as he took in the angry expression on Jeffrey Lancaster’s youthfully handsome face.
‘Is there a problem, Jeffrey?’ he prompted warily, wondering if Jeffrey had witnessed the tension just now between his sister and Zachary.
The younger man’s face flushed with displeasure. ‘I did not mean— It was not done intentionally— I had thought to join you and Wolfingham earlier and…I inadvertently overheard part of your conversation,’ he bit out accusingly.
And, as Zachary so clearly recalled, any part of his private conversation with Wolfingham would be considered damning to a third party. Most particularly Wolfingham having spoken of the conditions of Zachary’s father’s will, as being the reason for his betrothal and intended marriage to Jeffrey’s sister eleven months ago.
Chapter Fourteen
Zachary slouched down in the chair beside the fireplace at his club as he stared down morosely into the bottom of his empty glass. A glass which seemed to have been emptied of brandy far too often these past few hours.
The club was much quieter than it had been when he arrived here after leaving Lady Colchester’s musical soirée, the group of gentlemen who had been playing cards upon his arrival, having long departed. In fact, the club seemed to have emptied almost completely now that Zachary took the trouble to take stock of his surroundings. Something he had certainly not noticed before now, lost in the darkness of his own thoughts as he had been, and still was.
He continued to frown as he filled his glass again from the decanter on the table beside him. The alcohol dulled his senses, if it had not settled the confusion of his thoughts.
Of one thing he was absolutely certain, however: Georgianna now hated him.