The Unthinkable Read online

  The duchess smiled weakly, a shadow crossed over her eyes. “I remember. Though it seems a very long time ago.” Her voice had a far-off quality. It was clear to Genie that the loss of her husband still caused her enormous pain. The shadow cleared before she continued. “I will be happy to provide Mrs. Preston with whatever assistance she might need.”

  She sounded sincere, Genie thought. Her ready assent to help Genie came as a bit of a surprise. Apparently, the cruel duchess was not completely without feeling.

  The relief Huntingdon felt at seeing Genie fled the instant Hawk touched her.

  He’d known he acted like an ass—riding out into the night like some crazed bedlamite—but he’d never been more happy to see anyone in his life. Whatever embarrassment he’d suffered was surely worth it to see that she was unharmed. If he lived a thousand years he’d never forget how she’d looked when he’d first caught sight of her, glowing like the silvery moon in the black of night. Flawless, opalescent skin; honey blond hair that shone as bright as the sun; luminous blue eyes that pierced the veil of darkness.

  When their eyes locked, he felt as though he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. So severe had been his reaction. His chest had tightened with relief. And something more. Something he’d never thought to feel again. A wave of emotion so extreme, it felled him with a certainty that his happiness was inexplicably tied to this woman. Her suffering was his.

  Ironically, it was at that moment—when he realized that she was safe—that he knew the answer to the question that had been haunting him.

  He’d been agonizing for days. The conversation with his mother had sparked an ember of discontent that had been smoldering since the night of the ball. His recent conduct weighed heavily on him. Genie’s accusations rang true. He’d pursued her with such a single-minded purpose that he’d lost sight of what was right and honorable. He wanted her, so he forced her to him by threatening to ruin her. Something he’d already done once.

  He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

  Fear of losing her had brought him unexpected clarity. The fog in his mind lifted, enabling him to take a hard, objective look at his actions. He’d become so focused on his goal, he’d lost sight of the harm he did in trying to achieve it. And harming Genie again was the last thing that he wanted to do.

  For years he’d only thought to find her. To ease his conscience and assure himself that she’d come to no harm from his failings. But the moment he’d set eyes on her again, he’d wanted more. He’d wanted to make it up to her, to right the wrong he committed all those years ago. Failing a second time was unthinkable. So he’d done what was necessary to ensure that she married him.

  But now, at the very cusp of the realization of his objectives, he knew that it would all mean nothing if he hurt the very person he wanted to protect more than anyone else in the world. It had taken the thought of losing her to make him realize that he had to let her go. He had hurt her enough; it was time for her to heal.

  And to heal, he needed her trust. He wanted to prove to her that he was not the same boy who let her down all those years ago. He’d turned himself around and proved himself a worthy duke. Now he’d prove that he was a man worthy of her love. A man to whom she could confide the painful secrets of her past. Perhaps then he could soothe the pain and return the sparkle for life that she’d lost.

  His good intentions, however, suffered a severe blow when Hawk touched her. A black haze of jealousy descended over him as he watched the easy interchange between his former friend and his bride. He fought the urge to rip Hawk’s hand from her arm, the primitive possessiveness as unreasonable as it was inexplicable. He was a fool to be jealous of Hawk, but he deeply envied their closeness. A closeness that he’d squandered long ago. Every time she called him Edmund it reminded him of what he’d lost.

  Huntingdon should be the one to offer Genie comfort. She seemed so confident and sophisticated; he was ashamed to admit that it didn’t occur to him that she might be nervous about her responsibilities as a duchess. Or that Donnington Park might appear a bit daunting to its new mistress. He’d had no idea.

  The duchess had summoned Mrs. Mactavish, the housekeeper, but Huntingdon couldn’t let Genie go. He’d made a decision; he might not go through with it if he waited until tomorrow.

  He stepped between Genie and Hawk. “Please, if you wouldn’t mind, Mrs. Preston, I’d like to speak with you before you retire.”

  “I’m very tired.”

  The instinctive look that she gave Hawk before she replied burned in Huntingdon’s chest. He kept his expression impassive, fighting a frown. “It will only be a minute,” he insisted.

  “Very well,” she agreed, but with obvious reluctance.

  Hawk looked like he was going to argue, but stopped himself when Huntingdon shot him a fierce glare of warning. It wasn’t Hawk’s place to interfere, and he knew it.

  Huntingdon motioned to the footmen to follow the others out. He wanted privacy for this conversation. “Come,” he said taking her arm. “I wanted to show you something.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “Can’t it wait until morning?”

  He smiled. “No. I’m afraid what I have to show you can only be seen at night.”

  He led her across the marble salon and into the next room. Though a large fireplace provided warmth, the cavernous room was substantially cooler than the last and Genie shivered. He resisted the urge to fold her under his arm. He didn’t trust himself to touch her.

  Genie glanced around, her eyes stopping on the fine pianoforte and large golden harp. “The conservatory?” she asked. He nodded. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Ah, but this is not what I want to show you.”

  Her brows gathered above her tiny nose. “Then what?”

  The blond curls peeking from beneath her traveling bonnet shimmered in the candlelight. His breath caught. Unable to resist the siren call of her beauty, he cupped her chin, his fingers stoking the soft velvet of her skin. He heard her sharp intake of breath. Her lips parted. God that mouth, he thought. He ached to taste her. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

  “I missed you.” The words slipped out. He was surprised by the huskiness of his voice, by how fast his passion flared after only a moment in her company.

  Standing so close, he could smell the sweet rose of her perfume and the subtle honey of her skin. He felt strangely alive, invigorated by her mere presence. Blood pounded through his body and his skin grew warm. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming.

  She didn’t answer, but her lips quivered as if she knew what he was thinking. As if she knew instinctively how badly he wanted to put his mouth on hers. To crush her body to him, and let their passion consume them. To kiss her mouth, her skin, to run his tongue down the sharp cleave of her breasts. To inhale her sweetness. To assure himself in the most primitive way that she was alive.

  As much as he wanted to give free rein to his lust, even more desperately, he ached to hear her say something. To return the sentiment. To give him a reason not to offer her freedom. Her gaze fell to his mouth and his groin tightened at the unconscious response. Unspoken permission, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more than passion. He wanted her soul. He wanted everything.

  Lust had always been between them. But unlike last time he would not let it control him. This time he had the maturity and the strength to do what was right. Before he could change his mind, he lifted her chin, forcing her gaze up to the ceiling. “I wanted you to see this.”

  He watched the wonder transform her face, giving him a glimpse of the girl that he remembered. For once she didn’t hide her reaction. Her lips curved into a wide grin and her eyes sparkled. “Oh, my.”

  The heavens lay open above them. The stars twinkled brightly across the evening sky through the glass of the domed ceiling.

  “Did you do this?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Not by myself.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s magnificent.”

&n