The Regency Season Collection: Part One. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ of Francine Poitier, the married daughter of the farmer and his wife.’ Again, she had kept to the truth as much as possible when she returned to Paris, knowing that if her identity were to be checked by Helene Rousseau, that the other woman would learn that the Bernards’ did indeed have a married daughter called Francine.

      Zachary released her hands to step back, not sure if he dared believe this fantastical tale. But he wanted to. Oh, yes, he found that he dearly wanted to believe it.

      But, in truth, it seemed too much to accept that the young and flirtatious Georgianna Lancaster, that indulged and plump pigeon, the daughter of the Earl of Malvern, could possibly have worked as a labourer on a farm for several months, and then in the Paris tavern owned by Helene Rousseau, albeit in the kitchen. ‘And how did you manage that?’ he prompted in perfect French.

      ‘I managed it very well, thank you,’ Georgianna replied just as fluently. ‘My father was unaware of it, of course...’ she grimaced ruefully as she reverted back to English ‘...but during the winter months we spent at Malvern Hall before I...before I left, I had attended all of Jeffrey’s French lessons with him.’

      Zachary’s mouth twisted humourlessly. ‘No doubt drawn more by the charming and handsome Frenchman teaching the subject, than an interest in the language itself.’

      ‘No doubt,’ she conceded quietly. ‘But, as you now hear, I did learn it.’

      ‘That must have made it doubly choking for you when the duke who offered for you was neither charming nor handsome,’ he rasped harshly.

      Georgianna’s eyes widened incredulously. Hawksmere could not be serious, could he?

      Oh, he definitely lacked the charm, was too forthright and forceful to ever be called charming, but as any woman of the ton would be only too happy to confirm, he was most certainly handsome. And it was a handsomeness that would cause most women to willingly overlook his lack of charm.

      Even Georgianna admitted to having been taken with his dark and dangerous good looks during her first two Seasons. Indeed, he was a man it was impossible for any woman, young or old, to ignore. His arrogant bearing was always shown to advantage in his perfectly tailored clothes and she had never been able to decide whether his face was that of a fallen angel or a devil. André had possessed the face and golden hair of an angel, of course, but as Georgianna knew to her cost, he was most certainly a devil.

      Whereas Zachary Black had long been considered the catch of any Season.

      It had been the fact that Georgianna had been the unlikely one to ‘catch’ him which had come as such an unpleasant shock to her ten months ago.

      Gazing at such a handsome and unobtainable duke from afar was one thing—being informed he was to become her future husband was something else completely. Even the thoughts of becoming the wife of such a cynical and experienced gentleman had thrown Georgianna into a turmoil of doubt and fears. Mainly fears, she now realised.

      What could a young girl of nineteen know of being married to a jaded gentleman of one and thirty? How would she even know what to talk to him about, let alone perform any of her other wifely duties? Georgianna had shied away from even thinking of the two of them in bed together, she plump and inexperienced, he as sleek and beautiful as a Greek god, with a legendary number of women known to have shared his bed.

      Nor did she understand why he had chosen her at all, when he had never so much as even spoken or danced with her. The reason had become obvious, of course, and Hawksmere had confirmed it earlier today when he admitted he had believed her to be young enough, malleable enough, to make him an undemanding duchess.

      She clasped her hands tightly together as she forced her gaze to meet his. ‘So there you have the answer to your earlier question. Working in Helene Rousseau’s tavern was inadvertently the way in which I gathered the information I gave you earlier.’

      Impossible as it seemed, Zachary had already guessed that might be the case. Although he still had to question whether the delivery of that information had been deliberate or accidental. ‘And why did you find it so difficult to confide that to me earlier?’

      She drew in a deep breath. ‘Because I feared you would not believe me.’

      He raised dark brows. ‘But you no longer fear that might be the case?’

      She grimaced. ‘Whether I do or I do not is no longer relevant—having now lost my liberty, I consider I have nothing else left to lose, and everything to gain, by confiding all to you.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘And you expect me to believe that Helene Rousseau confided in you, a young woman she had employed to work in her kitchen?’

      ‘Of course I do not.’ Georgianna gave him an impatient glance for the derision in his tone. ‘The truth is that I eavesdropped on the conversation in which Napoleon’s liberation from Elba was discussed.’

      ‘Eavesdropped how?’

      ‘I quickly realised that a group of men, including André, met upstairs in a room of the tavern several times a week. And I discovered, quite by accident, that a convenient knothole in the floor of that room allowed their conversation to be overheard in the storeroom directly below.’

      ‘You will have to forgive my scepticism, Georgianna.’

      ‘Will I?’ she retorted sharply.

      Zachary grimaced. ‘The Rousseaus, both brother and sister, have been watched constantly since it was discovered that André Duval was actually André Rousseau, a known spy for Bonaparte.’

      ‘I am gratified to hear it,’ she responded tartly. ‘Indeed, it is a pity his duplicity was not discovered earlier, as it might then have saved me from considerable heartache.’

      And Zachary was not in the least gratified to hear that Rousseau’s treatment of her had succeeded in breaking Georgianna’s heart. ‘You speak now of having a fear of meeting Rousseau again; how is it that you did not fear meeting him again at his sister’s tavern?’

      She shook her head. ‘He was present at all of those meetings, but ordinarily he had no reason to ever enter the kitchen.’

      ‘Even so, you were taking a huge risk, Georgianna.’

      ‘Have you never heard that it is easier to hide in full view than it is to run away and attempt to hide?’ She sighed heavily.

      It was a ploy Zachary had used several times himself these past four troubled years. ‘I have, yes.’

      ‘Besides, you only have to look at me now...’ Georgianna glanced down ruefully at her slenderness ‘...to see I am nothing like the girl I once was.’

      Because she was no longer a girl but a woman, Zachary conceded grimly. Beautiful, intelligent, confident, capable, but most of all, in spite of everything, utterly desirable.

      And nothing Georgianna had told him this evening had lessened the pounding of the relentless desire Zachary had felt for her since meeting her again. Was it only a matter of hours ago? It seemed as if he had been in this state of constant arousal for days rather than just hours.

      He gave a shake of his head in an attempt to clear his head, at least, of that desire; his body was another matter entirely. ‘You understand I shall need time to confirm this new information?’

      She СКАЧАТЬ