‘No,’ Georgianna denied vehemently. ‘Never that. Never,’ she repeated with a shudder of revulsion. ‘The truth of the matter is—I realised some time ago—Zachary, I do not believe I was ever truly in love with André.’ She gave a pained grimace at the admission. ‘I was very naïve, flattered by his attentions and desperate to escape a loveless marriage and, I now know, in love with love rather than André himself.’
Zachary stared at her searchingly for long, tense moments, before turning abruptly to cross the room and seat himself behind his imposing mahogany desk. That she had not loved Rousseau after all was no reason to suppose, to hope, she would ever love him.
‘I am gratified to you—’ he nodded ‘—for allowing me to know that Rousseau’s death has not succeeded in breaking your heart, as I previously believed it to have done.’
Georgianna could hear the but in his voice.
But the admission made no difference to the outcome of their own conversation, perhaps?
Whether or not that was true, Georgianna had no intentions of leaving here tonight without there being complete honesty between herself and Zachary. After which, fate, or rather Zachary, could do with her what it would. ‘Are you not interested to know how it is I came to be certain I was never in love with André?’
His mouth twisted wryly. ‘No doubt it is difficult to continue to love a man whom you knew had attempted to kill you.’
‘Indeed.’ She nodded ruefully. ‘Almost as difficult, in fact, as finding you have fallen in love with the very same gentleman whose hand in marriage you had once shunned so cruelly.’
Zachary rose sharply to his feet. ‘Georgianna?’ His eyes glittered as he gazed across at her uncertainly.
Her heart was now beating so erratically, so loudly in her chest, she felt sure that Zachary could not help but be aware of it, too, despite the distance between them. ‘It is the truth, Zachary.’ She forced herself to forge ahead, to not retreat or back down, now that she had come so far. ‘Since I returned to England you have shown me a side of yourself I did not know existed. That I did not even dare dream existed. On the outside you are so very much the cool and arrogant Duke of Hawksmere, so very much in control. But inwardly there is a kindness to you, one which you try to hide, but which shines through anyway.’
‘And you reached this conclusion by my having locked you in my bedchamber? By my making love to you at every opportunity?’ He raised incredulous brows.
‘I reached that conclusion by knowing that you could have been so much harsher with me, after the way I had behaved in the past. By knowing that you were complicit in protecting my reputation, despite that behaviour. By your overwhelming kindness to Jeffrey these past months. And by the realisation this evening, the certainty,’ she declared determinedly as he would have spoken, ‘that your reasons for seeing André dispatched were not, as I had supposed, because of loyalty to England, or because of a personal grudge you held against him, for having dared to elope with your future bride.’
‘Dear God, you thought that of me?’
Colour warmed the paleness of her cheeks. ‘I am ashamed to say it occurred to me those might be your reasons.’
‘I did it because of you, Georgianna. Because André had attempted to kill you.’ Zachary’s hands were clenched at his side.
It was as Georgianna had thought earlier when he’d pleaded with her so emotionally.
‘Just leave it on the side table there,’ Zachary instructed his butler harshly as the man entered after the briefest of knocks, holding aloft the tray with the decanter and glasses. ‘And in future, would you please knock and wait before entering any room in which Lady Georgianna and I are alone together?’ he added, his gaze remaining intent upon Georgianna.
‘Certainly, your Grace.’ The butler placed the tray upon the side table. ‘Will that be all, your Grace?’
Zachary barely resisted the impulse to tell the man to go to the devil, wishing to be alone again with Georgianna, to continue their conversation. To hear her repeat that she had fallen in love with him.
Something he hardly dared to believe.
‘You may retire for the night, Hinds,’ Zachary dismissed distractedly. ‘And thank you.’
His butler gave him another startled glance before gathering himself and leaving the room. As evidence perhaps that Zachary’s temper had been less than pleasant this past few days?
As no doubt it had, caught up in the pained whirlpool of his uncertainty in his own emotions, as he had surely been.
‘Is that not a strange request to make of your butler, when there is no reason to suppose that the two of us might ever be alone together in a room in this house again?’ Georgianna queried huskily.
Zachary stepped out from behind his desk. ‘There i
s every reason to suppose it, Georgianna.’ He strode purposefully towards her before grasping both of her hands in his. ‘Believe me, when I tell you, that these past three weeks I have come to love and admire you beyond anything and anyone else in this world.’
‘Zachary?’ she choked out emotionally.
‘Georgia, will you please, I beg of you, consent to becoming my wife?’
Georgianna stared up at him wonderingly, sure Zachary could not truly have told her that he loved her, too. That he had begged her to marry him?
His hands tightened about hers as he obviously mistook her silence for hesitation. ‘And not because of any ridiculous clause in my father’s will, either. Indeed, if you require it as proof of the sincerity of my feelings for you, I will give away half of the Hawksmere fortune to my cousin Rufus forthwith, as my father’s will decrees if I do not have an heir by my thirty fifth birthday. Anything, if you will consent to become my wife immediately.’