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  THE UNTHINKABLE

  Monica McCarty

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  The Unthinkable

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  Excerpt from TAMING THE RAKE

  COMPLETE MONICA MCCARTY BOOKLIST

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Acknowledgments

  I need to go back quite a few years to give proper thanks to some of the people involved with this book from the beginning. Bella Andre and Jami Alden, I’m looking at you! As my early critique partners, I don’t even want to think about how many times you read this book (Jami, thanks for reading it yet again after about a ten year lapse), but thanks to you both for your collective brilliance, sage advice, and ongoing encouragement in (finally!) seeing this book to publication. A huge thanks to Carrie at Seductive Musings for this gorgeous cover, Shona McCarthy for her extremely helpful copyediting, Anne Victory and Cyrstalle for their eagle-eyed “oops” detecting, and Lisa Rogers for the ebook formatting. I also want to give a very special thanks and shout out to Isobel Carr who generously offered to help me format this novel for print only to be caught in word processing program hell. It wasn’t pretty, and the fact that it was last minute made it even worse. A huge thanks—I owe you big time.

  The Unthinkable

  © 2015 Buccaneer Press LLC

  The Unthinkable is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organization, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Cover Design: © Seductive Designs

  Photo copyright: Woman:

  © Novel Expressions

  Photo copyright: Landscape:

  © Depositphotos.com/ianwool

  Photo copyright: Ship:

  © Depositphotos.com/ Elenarts

  Photo copyright: Letter:

  © Depositphotos.com/ estudiosaavedra

  All rights reserved.

  Excerpt from TAMING THE RAKE Copyright © 2015 Buccaneer Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced without prior written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations for purposes of review.

  Five years ago Eugenia “Genie” Prescott, the daughter of a country parson, gave her heart to a young nobleman who betrayed her. Seduced by an unspoken promise of marriage, she is forced from her home to avoid scandal. Irreparably changed from the destruction wrought by the failed relationship, Genie has paid for her sins in tragedy and heartbreak. Returning to England on the arm of the man who rescued her from hell, she is determined to reclaim the life denied her and never be at the mercy of a man again. But the secrets of the past threaten to ruin her future when she comes face-to-face with the man whose betrayal nearly destroyed her.

  Forced to choose between duty and desire, Lord Fitzwilliam Hastings refused to defy his family and do the unthinkable: marry a girl of inferior wealth and rank. But by time he realizes his error, Genie has disappeared. Haunted by the failure of his youth, and by the girl he could never forget, Hastings, now unexpectedly the Duke of Huntingdon, has searched for her for five years. But now that Genie is back, the duke has his chance for atonement and is determined to make it up to her… even if the reluctant Genie has to be persuaded.

  If thou remember’st not the slightest folly

  That ever love did make thee run into

  Thou hast not lov’d.

  —William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, scene iv

  CHAPTER ONE

  Carlton House, June 19, 1811

  The soft glow of the gaslights cast ominous shadows across the coach as it crept along Pall Mall. But not even the black curtain of a starless night could relieve the oppressive heat of the sweltering London evening. The air inside the luxurious carriage had passed beyond stagnant over an hour ago, turning the once-delicate mingling of the ladies’ fine French perfumes to pungent and cloying. The normally loquacious occupants of the coach had been silenced by darkness and shared discomfort. The short journey from Berkeley Square to Carlton House that should have taken a quarter of an hour had already extended to an excruciating three.

  The interminable wait would try the patience of a saint. And Eugenia Prescott had long ago forsaken her chances for sainthood. Tension knit with excitement balled in her gut. With what was at stake tonight, each minute of delay was pure agony.

  After years of pain and heartbreak, Genie stood poised on the verge of triumph. If all went according to plan, tonight would be the beginning of the end of her long quest to secure the life that was denied her five years ago.

  The coach lurched forward then jerked to another abrupt stop. Stop and start, like the erratic pounding of her heart. Yet each step, no matter how infinitesimal, brought her closer to the realization of her dream.

  She sank back against the silken walls, closed her eyes, and slipped into the shadows, hiding her impatience from the watchful eyes of her companions. She drew a deep breath, both to steady her nerves and to give herself a moment to absorb the significance of all that she had accomplished.

  She’d journeyed from the doorstep of hell to the very pinnacle of elite society. Miss Eugenia Prescott, the prodigal parson’s daughter, who’d fled ruin and disgrace, surviving hardship her provincial upbringing never could have imagined, had returned as the soon-to-be fiancée of an earl. Accomplishment enough to be sure, but there was more. Tonight Genie would make her entrée into high society at one of the grandest events ever to befall the fashionable world.

  Much rode on her success this night. Acceptance by the ton would secure her future and enable her to finally put the darkness and bitter memories of the past behind her.

  Resisting the urge to look outside the small window yet again, Genie adjusted the bodice of her gown, giving only momentary relief from the biting pinch of her stays. Though beautiful, her ensemble was not particularly comfortable in even the most agreeable of circumstances. After hours of confinement in the stifling coach, the diaphanous ivory column gown clung to her lean body as if she’d dampened the skirts, as was the fashion of the more risqué members of the ton. Still, despite her discomfort, Genie had never looked more beautiful. It was a fact, thought without conceit. She had long since taken any pleasure in her beauty. What she’d thought a blessing had turned out to be anything but. Now her face and body were all she had to ensure her survival—and her future.

  “Finally,” Lady Hawkesbury, one of her companions and chaperone, broke the silence. “It’s almost our turn.”

  Too nervous to respond, Genie instead concentrated on calming her racing heart. Trepidation nibbled at the edges of her consciousness. Everything she had battled and scraped for was so close she could almost reach out and grab it. Almost. But not quite.

  The coach clattered to its final stop. A moment later the blue and gold liveried coachman opened the door, releasing the stale air with a gentle cleansing