She hesitated, holding the two sides of her gown together, as she forced herself to look across at Hawksmere. ‘Please attempt to hold your derision and scorn at bay, if only for a few minutes, if you please, Hawksmere.’ Her voice shook with emotion.
Zachary frowned as he looked across at her searchingly, having no idea what it was that Georgianna was hiding from him. He was nevertheless aware that, whatever it was, it affected her deeply. ‘Show me,’ he encouraged gruffly, shoulders tensed.
Georgianna kept her eyes closed, her lips clamped firmly together, as she slowly parted the two sides of her gown before her fingers pulled down the soft material of her camisole, fully exposing her breasts to him.
It was impossible for Zachary to hold back his sharply indrawn breath as he saw the discoloured and livid scar between the swell of Georgianna’s breasts for the first time.
Even from across the room he could see that the redness of the puckered and scarred skin now exposed to him was recent and several inches around. It was the same type of wound and scarring he had unfortunately seen many times during his years of battle against Napoleon’s armies.
His gaze moved sharply back up to the pallor of Georgianna’s face. Her eyes were once again open as she looked back at him with a flat and unemotional expression. He moistened lips that had gone suddenly dry.
‘Is that…?’
‘The result of a bullet wound?’ Georgianna finished dully. ‘Yes, it is.’
Zachary stood up, too restless, too disturbed by what he was seeing to remain seated for a moment longer. He crossed the room in long strides before gently pushing her fingers out of the way so that he might better see the livid red scar. ‘How is it you did not die from such a wound?’
She gave an emotionally choked laugh. ‘As it was so obviously intended that I should?’
‘Yes.’
‘How typical of you, Hawksmere, to cut straight to the point.’ She looked up at him coldly. ‘It was pure chance that I did not die, that the force of the bullet was deflected slightly by the locket I wore about my neck at the time.’
Zachary gave a dazed shake of his head, unable to stop looking at the terrible scarring that had been inflicted on Georgianna’s otherwise beautiful and flawless skin. He was unable to stop himself from imagining a bullet entering Georgianna’s smoothly perfect flesh, and the agony she must have suffered as it ripped through that delicate tissue, no doubt taking her down. Miraculously the locket prevented it from actually killing her.
He looked up, eyes narrowed. ‘Who did this to you?’
Her smile turned humourless. ‘Ah, and now comes the intelligence beneath the scorn and derision.’
‘Georgianna.’
‘Have you seen enough that I might refasten my gown now?’ she challenged tensely.
His jaw clenched tightly as he demanded again, ‘Who did this to you?’
Her eyes hardened to glittering violet jewels. ‘Who do you imagine did it to me?’ She refastened her gown without waiting for his permission. ‘Who was it that you yourself said could not allow me to live once I had left him?’
‘Rousseau,’ he breathed softly.
‘Exactly. Rousseau,’ she confirmed flatly. ‘Have you seen enough yet to believe me, Hawksmere?’ she challenged tautly. ‘Or would another scar help to finally convince you that everything I have told you is the truth?’ She lifted a hand to move back the cluster of curls gathered on her left temple, revealing a long scar where a second bullet appeared to have grazed and broken her skin without actually penetrating it. ‘This one was to be the coup de grâce, I believe. Unfortunately for André it was dark that night and I must have turned my head away at the last moment, because the second bullet only succeeded in rendering me unconscious rather than killing me outright.’
A single bullet to the heart and another to the head.
‘An assassin’s method,’ Zachary acknowledged gruffly.
‘Because André killed me,’ Georgianna confirmed emotionally. ‘Or, at least, he believed that he had when he left me for dead in that deserted forest just outside Paris,’ she continued flatly. ‘Which is where Monsieur Bernard, having heard the two shots and fearing for his livestock, found me unconscious and took me back to his farm.’
‘The doctor?’
‘The Bernards dare not call in a doctor, because they had no way of knowing who had inflicted such injuries. And, being unconscious, I could not tell them, either.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Madame Bernard removed the bullet herself, then she sewed the wound back up as best she could. It could have been worse, I suppose, and monsieur might have lived alone and so been the one to attempt to sew the wound.’
‘For pity’s sake, be silent a moment, Georgianna.’ Zachary choked as he finally found the breath to speak.
‘Why?’ she challenged. ‘Did I not tell you yesterday that we all carry scars, some more visibly than others? Or does it sicken you to see such imperfection? It sickened me at the time. Although, in truth, I did not see the scars for some weeks,’ she continued conversationally. ‘I remained unconscious for several days afterwards and delirious for the better part of a week or more,’ she explained flatly as Zachary looked at her sharply. ‘And then, finally, when I did awaken it was to discover that I was blind, Zachary. Completely and utterly blind.’ She raised her chin as she looked at him in defiant challenge.
‘Dear God.’
‘Yes.’