The Regency Season: Dangerous Dukes: Marcus Wilding: Duke of Pleasure / Zachary Black: Duke of Debauchery. Carole Mortimer

that?’ he prompted softly.

      Georgianna swallowed, hating that she had shown any sign of weakness in front of Zachary Black, the mocking Duke of Hawksmere. She hated him for dwelling on that weakness, whereas before she had merely feared him.

      Nor did she have any intention of telling this hateful man of the head injury she had suffered and which, for two weeks, had left her blind. For that short time she had been caught in eternal darkness, afraid that she would never be able to see again.

      It had been fear unlike anything Georgianna had ever known before, including the bleakness of those hours after André had attempted to murder her, leaving her body in the woods for the wild animals to devour.

      She accepted she had wronged Zachary Black in the past and had apologised for it, but surely, surely she did not have to now reveal all of her humiliations so that he might taunt her further?

      She hoped to keep some dignity.

      ‘How did you get that?’ she demanded sharply, eyes wide as she saw and recognised her travelling bag sitting on the floor just inside the door of the bedchamber.

      Hawksmere gave it a cursory glance before turning back with a dismissive shrug. ‘It was collected from your lodgings this morning, of course.’

      ‘I— But— How did you know where...? I told you earlier the name of the street where I had taken lodgings,’ Georgianna confirmed heavily.

      ‘You did, yes.’ Zachary gave a hard smile of satisfaction. It had not taken long at all for one of his footmen to be sent to Duke Street to discover in which lodging Georgianna was staying. ‘It was not too difficult to guess that the Anna Smith, who arrived in London yesterday, was in fact Georgianna Lancaster,’ he added coolly as she seemed to have been struck momentarily dumb. ‘And the two small portraits on the dressing table of your mother and father together, and another of your brother, confirmed it was so.’

      Those violet eyes rose quickly to meet his. ‘You went to Mrs Jenkins’s house yourself?’

      He shrugged. ‘I did not think you would appreciate having one of my footmen pawing through your more personal items.’

      She bristled. ‘Obviously you did not hesitate to do so yourself.’

      ‘Obviously not.’ Zachary gave a mocking nod. ‘We may have fought a war with France, but I have always considered that they do make the most sensual of ladies’ undergarments.’

      Two spots of colour appeared in the paleness of Georgianna’s cheeks. ‘And no doubt you have seen enough of them to be an expert on the subject?’

      ‘No doubt.’ Zachary’s mouth quirked in amusement. ‘Is it not a little late for you to be exhibiting such maidenly outrage, Georgianna?’ he added hardly.

      He was right. Of course he was right, Georgianna acknowledged heavily. She knew she had forfeited any right to feel outrage, maidenly or otherwise, in Hawksmere’s eyes, as well as those of all decent society, the moment she left her home in the middle of the night and eloped with André.

      Except, unbelievable as it would undoubtedly be for others to learn, she was still a maiden...

      She and André had spent the first night and day of their elopement travelling by coach to the port where they intended to board the boat bound for France, their intention being to marry there rather than linger overlong in England. And André had explained, once they reached that port, that they stood more chance of remaining undetected if they travelled as brother as sister. A logic for which Georgianna had been exceedingly grateful.

      Not least because, by that time, she had begun to doubt the wisdom of her actions.

      It had all seemed so romantic, so exciting, when she and André made their plans to elope together in the middle of the night. But the long hours spent in the coach together, the rattling and jostling too severe to allow sleep or even rest, and fraying both their tempers and patience, had enabled Georgianna to see André as rather less than the romantic hero she had thought him to be.

      To realise that, by running away with André in the middle of the night, she had cut herself off completely from her family, from society, in a scandal so shocking she would never be able to return.

      The respite of travelling on the boat together as brother and sister had been something of a balm to her already frayed nerves.

      To accept that she was no longer as sure that she wished to become André’s wife at all.

      Considering the nightmare that had followed, it was perhaps as well she had already begun to have those doubts.

      She drew herself up to her full height of just over five feet as she now met Hawksmere’s gaze unflinchingly. ‘I trust you are not expecting me to thank you for something that was unnecessary in the first place?’

      ‘Oh, it was very necessary, Georgianna,’ he corrected harshly. ‘As I informed you earlier, you are to remain here for the next few days. And I thought you might feel more comfortable if you had your own things with you.’

      Georgianna’s head ached from having awoken so suddenly, in response to Hawksmere shutting out the daylight. The same response, panic and fear, she always felt now at finding herself in complete darkness.

      Nevertheless, headache or no, she could not allow Hawksmere’s words to go unchallenged. ‘We both know your only concern was to allay Mrs Jenkins’s suspicions when I did not return there later today. No doubt she was suitably impressed at the presence of the illustrious Duke of Hawksmere in her modest home?’

      He gave that derisive smile. ‘No doubt.’

      Georgianna gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘You really do mean to keep me a prisoner here, then?’

      His jaw tightened. ‘For the moment, yes.’

      She sighed. ‘An occurrence which I can see does not suit you any more than it does me.’

      He shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘It would seem that neither one of us has a choice in the matter. But there is a bright side to all of this, Georgianna,’ he added softly as he crossed the bedchamber with those soft and predatory steps. ‘Just think, you did not have to marry me in order to share my bedchamber.’

      Georgianna refused to be intimidated as Hawksmere now stood just inches away from her. So close, in fact, that she could see every detail of the livid scar upon his throat, as well as the dark stubble on his jaw, evidence that he had not yet had time to shave today. Indeed, his evening clothes from the night before showed that he had not so much as taken the time to change his clothes yet this morning.

      Because, despite his scepticism towards her earlier, he had believed enough of what she told him to not waste any time in sharing that information?

      Georgianna certainly hoped that was the case.

      She could bear any amount of Hawksmere’s mockery, as well as his scorn and disgust, if at the same time he helped to thwart this latest plot to liberate Napoleon from Elba.

      She gave a humourless smile. ‘We must all be grateful for small mercies, your Grace.’

      Zachary’s bark of laughter was completely spontaneous. A genuine appreciation of Georgianna’s continued feistiness, despite the direness of the situation in which she now found herself.

      And not much succeeded in amusing Zachary any more.

      As an only child, he had inherited the Hawksmere title eleven years ago, upon the death of both his parents in a carriage accident. The years that followed had been lonely as well as busy ones, mainly filled with the responsibilities of his title, and fighting against Napoleon, in open battle, and secretly as an agent for the Crown.

      Those same years had shown him that women, young and old, thin or plump, fair or dark, single or married, were willing to do almost anything for the attentions of a duke. This had resulted in a jading, a cynicism within him, beyond Zachary’s control.

      It appeared Georgianna Lancaster