The Regency Season Collection: Part One. Кэрол Мортимер

and society,’ she excused lightly.

      ‘But you are pleased to be, surely?’ he cajoled.

      Barely a year separated them in age and Jeffrey had certainly matured exponentially during his months as the Earl of Malvern under Hawksmere’s guidance. But still Georgianna felt so much older than her brother now, in her emotions as well as her interests.

      Not that she could explain to Jeffrey without fear of revealing too much of her experiences over the past year.

      They had necessarily talked of her elopement, her parting from André, her months of working, though she had not revealed exactly where she had worked, only that it was in a kitchen, to earn the money for her boat passage back to England. Not once during their conversations had Georgianna told Jeffrey the complete truth about the months she had spent in France. How could she, when that truth was so horrible, so demeaning, so frightening?

      It was a truth which only Hawksmere knew for certain.

      Such was her brother’s obvious admiration and liking for the older man, and oblivious of their guardian’s work for the Crown, Jeffrey had so far not questioned why she had chosen to go to Hawksmere, of all people, immediately upon returning to England. Nor had Georgianna chosen to enlighten her brother as to the exact day of her return, or that she had been kept a prisoner in Hawksmere’s home for two days and nights.

      She might be angry with Zachary, resentful even, but it served no purpose for her to confide in her brother, when he obviously admired Hawksmere so. The older man was to be his guardian for some time to come. Also, it could endanger the work Zachary even now carried out for the Crown.

      ‘Of course.’ She gave her brother a brightly reassuring smile. ‘I am merely finding it strange, after so many months away.’

      ‘In that case, a dinner party is exactly what is required.’ Her brother moved to the fireplace to warm his hands, the darkness of his hair appearing blue-black in the firelight.

      ‘A dinner party?’ Georgianna’s pulse jumped in nervousness, her heart leaping in her chest, as she joined Jeffrey beside the fire. ‘But I thought tomorrow evening at Lady Colchester’s musical soirée was to be our first appearance back into society?’ Individual calls by members of society was one thing, as was riding in her carriage in the afternoons, but Georgianna was dreading having that society staring at her en masse and wondering if any of the rumours that so abounded about her were true.

      ‘I should have said a dinner party en famille,’ Jeffrey corrected cheerfully. ‘Hawksmere has sent word he is returned from the country and wishes the two of us to join him at Hawksmere House for dinner this evening.’

      Hawksmere?

      Georgianna moved to sit down abruptly on the chair beside the fireplace, her knees feeling suddenly weak at the knowledge that Zachary was returned from France. And safely, too, if he was inviting the two of them to join him for dinner this evening.

      ‘You have seen him?’ she prompted huskily.

      ‘He sent for me this afternoon.’ Jeffrey nodded.

      But not her, Georgianna realised. Because she would be his ward for only a matter of months more? Or because he had no wish to see her again? Including her in this evening’s dinner invitation was, after all, what Jeffrey would have expected of their guardian.

      ‘Hawksmere is hardly family, Jeffrey,’ she remonstrated stiffly.

      ‘As good as,’ he dismissed unconcernedly, seeming completely unaware of Georgianna’s reaction to the news of Hawksmere’s invitation.

      Georgianna had not realised until that moment how worried she had been about Zachary’s safe return from France.

      A concern she was starting to fear might be based on something other than the anger she bore towards him, for once again having omitted to tell her the full truth.

      * * *

      ‘It really was not necessary for you to include me in this dinner invitation, Hawksmere!’

      Zachary found himself smiling for the first time in days as Georgianna attacked him with her acerbic tongue the moment she entered the blue salon of his home on her brother’s arm, rather than offering the expected polite greeting.

      ‘And how gratified you must be to know that there is only the matter of three months before you will be relieved of my guardianship,’ he continued haughtily even as she sketched him a polite curtsy.

      ‘Georgianna?’ Jeffrey looked nonplussed by his sister’s sharpness towards their guardian.

      Zachary, on the other hand, found himself highly entertained. ‘The history between your sister and me necessarily means that we are still working on acquiring an acceptable politeness between the two of us, Jeffrey,’ he excused to the younger man, even as he stepped forward to take Georgianna’s gloved hand in his, his own gaze meeting her glittering violet one as he raised that hand to his lips. ‘You are looking exceptionally lovely this evening, Georgianna,’ he drawled as he straightened before slowly relinquishing her hand.

      She did indeed look very beautiful, the darkness of her hair fashionably styled so as to conceal the scar at her temple. Her fashionable gown was the same violet colour as her eyes, with a swathe of lace artfully fashioned across the top of her bosom, so concealing the scar Zachary knew she also bore there.

      ‘I am sure there is no need for false politeness between the two of us in the privacy of your home, Hawksmere,’ she dismissed offhandedly as she moved away, at the same time reminding Zachary, at least, that he had not felt the need for this same politeness the last time she had been in his home. ‘Jeffrey cannot help but be aware of the reason for our strained relationship.’

      Zachary raised dark brows. ‘I had hoped we had come to a different understanding of each other since your return?’

      Those violet coloured eyes flashed darkly. ‘Only in as much as I believe that we have come to an acceptance of our hearty dislike of each other.’

      ‘Georgianna!’

      ‘Do not be alarmed, Jeffrey.’ Once again Zachary soothed his younger ward’s shock at his sister’s rudeness. ‘Georgianna and I understand each other perfectly. Do we not, Georgianna?’ The hardness of his tone was a warning for her to temper her anger and dislike of him. Her behaviour was not only alarming her brother, but also implied that they knew each other far better than their previously known acquaintance might imply.

      Which they obviously did.

      Zachary had thought of Georgianna often these past two weeks, whilst he was away in France. More often than he might have wished, if truth be known, and not just because of his dealings with Rousseau.

      Georgianna had only been a prisoner in his home for a matter of thirty-six hours, but they had been intensely intimate hours. Hours, when Zachary came to know Georgianna rather better than he had ever known any woman. Hours, when he had come to admire her, for her spirit and determination. Hours, when he had come to like, even appreciate, her outspokenness and the way that she refused to be cowed by anything he did or said to her. Hours, when he had come to desire her more than any woman of his acquaintance.

      As he desired her still, Zachary acknowledged as he studied her through narrowed lids.

      Georgianna appeared less strained than she had been two weeks ago, the lines smoothed from her forehead and beside her eyes and mouth, and there was a becoming colour in the smoothness of her cheeks and full, pouting lips. But she still looked too slender in that violet-coloured gown. Perhaps more so, her unadorned neck and throat appearing delicately vulnerable, as did the slenderness of her arms.

      And Zachary’s desire to possess all that loveliness was almost painful.

      Damn it, it was painful.

      His body throbbed with desire for her even more after their two weeks apart.

      ‘Yes, Hawksmere, I believe we do indeed understand each other. Perfectly.’ She lifted her