The Unthinkable Read online

  Genie felt herself smile in return, hard-pressed to remain unaffected. Huntingdon seemed different these past couple days. Lighthearted. Happy. Playful. Not so serious. More like the boy she’d remembered than the hard, quick-tempered man she didn’t.

  Indeed, there had been so many moments of unexpected thoughtfulness these past two days, she’d wondered if perhaps he’d been telling the truth in the conservatory. Had she misjudged him? Had he truly been trying to do the right thing? The timing was just so suspicious.

  What if he wasn’t trying to avoid scandal? What if that strange episode with the carriage was the cause of his sudden change of heart? She couldn’t get that incident out of her mind. Clearly, he’d feared an accident. Considering their long delay and the death of his father and brother in similar circumstances, she couldn’t blame him for being worried. It was the magnitude of his worry that surprised her. He’d feared for her. Which meant he cared for her. Undeniably, from that moment on he’d behaved quite differently, seducing her with kindness.

  She almost wished that he would go back to being angry and severe; it was far easier to hate him that way.

  Huntingdon took Caro’s hand and lifted it to his mouth. “I’m delighted that you were able to join us on such short notice. As you can see, it’s a small celebration. I regret that Lord Castleton was unable to come, but I hope you and Lady Castleton will stay for the hunt.”

  “We’d be delighted,” Caro answered on behalf of both women. “My husband is in Scotland, and he will be very disappointed to have missed meeting Genie, whom he’s heard so much about.” Caro looked about the room, her eyes narrowed slightly. “I was hoping that Lizzie might be here?” she asked gently.

  Genie felt a sharp pang of sadness and shook her head.

  Huntingdon slipped his hand around her waist. “The duchess and I hope to travel to Thornbury soon, and celebrate with her family at that time,” he explained for her.

  “Oh, I see,” Caro said, though it was clear that she didn’t.

  The absence of her family was the most obvious indication that everything might not be as wonderful as it seemed. Huntingdon had of course written to her father with the news of their impending nuptials, but he hadn’t pushed the matter of her family’s attendance—somehow understanding that she wasn’t ready to see them. She wasn’t, but not for the reason he thought. It wasn’t shame preventing her from reuniting with her family; she didn’t want to have to lie to them again.

  As for Lizzie, the mystery surrounding her had still not been explained to Genie’s satisfaction. Unable to confront Fanny, who’d left soon after Huntingdon did for Donnington, Caro, on that afternoon at Hawkesbury House, had provided only the barest hint of what had happened to Lizzie. Immensely popular during her season in London with Fanny, Lizzie had nonetheless returned to Thornbury, never to be heard from again. As to why, Genie still did not know. She needed to speak with Fanny, but since Genie’s arrival, Fanny had gone out of her way to avoid being alone with her. Apparently, breaking off the engagement with Edmund had not softened Fanny’s opinion of her any. Genie couldn’t blame her.

  Caro reluctantly moved on and Genie felt Huntingdon tense at her side as the next group of well-wishers approached.

  “So,” Percy drawled. “What other secrets have you been hiding, Mrs. Preston? Or should I say, Miss Prescott?”

  Genie fought to control her expression, but she knew she must have paled, because she felt Huntingdon’s hand tighten protectively at her waist.

  “Actually, it’s Your Grace,” Huntingdon corrected, his voice edged with steel.

  Percy sneered. “Of course, how remiss of me, ‘Your Grace’.”

  “Naughty scamp,” Lady Davenport chided, swatting Huntingdon with her fan. “Keeping all of us in the dark about the identity of your bride. Not that you fooled me. Didn’t I tell you these two were in love, Nigel.”

  “That you did, dumpling.” Lord Davenport swatted at Huntingdon, who, prepared this time, braced himself before he was knocked over. “You can’t hide anything from my Hyacinth,” Lord Davenport boomed, chest puffed out with pride. “Not to say that she hasn’t been extremely put out, old boy. Keeping such details to yourself. It’s not the thing,” he said, shaking his head. “Not the thing at all.”

  “Just look at them,” Lady Davenport cooed with her husband as if Huntingdon and Genie weren’t standing right there. “Have you ever seen a more handsome couple? And so in love!” Genie’s cheeks burned, but Lady Davenport went on, oblivious to the discomfort she was causing. “They can’t keep their eyes off each other. Oh, to be young again,” she said with a long, dramatic sigh. “I remember there was a time when you couldn’t keep your eyes off me,” she said to her husband with a playful pout.

  Lord Davenport took her plump hand and brought it to his mouth. “I still can’t, pet. You’re still the most beautiful woman in the room.”

  “Nonsense,” Lady Davenport chided, but she blushed like a schoolgirl receiving her first compliment. She turned back to Huntingdon and said starchily, “So what do you have to say for yourself, young man?”

  “Yes,” Percy interjected snidely. “We can’t wait to hear the details of how this great romance developed across two continents. Why did you say nothing before of Miss Prescott’s identity as Mrs. Preston at Lady Hawkesbury’s ball? It’s all tantalizingly mysterious.”

  “Nothing mysterious,” Huntingdon said offhandedly, as if the question didn’t bother him. “We knew the interest the ton would take in our marriage, we hoped to have some time to ourselves before the vultures began to circle.” He stared at Percy, leaving no doubt for whom the emphasis was meant.

  Despite the none-too-subtle warning, Percy did not back down. “Hmm, sounds reasonable. But why do I have a sneaking suspicion that you are hiding something?”

  Genie was shocked to hear the new dowager duchess intercede. “Why Percy, you dreadful boy,” she said loud enough for everyone around to hear. “You always were such a quarrelsome child. Always trying to stir up trouble. I would have thought you were too old for such nonsense. My son had fond memories of our sojourn in Gloucestershire, and Mrs. Preston in particular, so it was only natural when she returned to England after the death of her husband for him to renew their acquaintance.”

  Genie knew her eyes must be as round as saucers. Even Huntingdon looked surprised. She couldn’t believe it. The Duchess of Huntingdon had just come to her defense.

  Lady Davenport finally seemed to comprehend that Percy was being rude. “Come along, Percy. You’ve made quite enough of a nuisance of yourself for one day.”

  “That’s right, son,” Lord Davenport guffawed. “Save some for tomorrow.”

  Red-faced and furious, Percy moved away. Genie relaxed, suddenly very conscious of the firm hand around her waist and the warmth of the powerful body pressed so close to her side.

  Huntingdon leaned down. “Stay away from Percy,” he warned, sending shivers down her neck with the soft tingle of his breath.

  Genie nodded, ignoring his high-handed command, for once they were in agreement. Lord Percival Davenport was like an asp, coiled and waiting to spring.

  But rather than just issue the order (as he usually did), Huntingdon surprised her by explaining further. “I’d hoped to curtail his interest in you at the Hawkesbury ball, which is why I ignored his snide remarks.”

  Genie’s eyes widened. So that was why he’d not defended her.

  “You see what he’s like,” Huntingdon continued. “Since we were children he’s had an unreasonable hatred of me. When I became duke, even more so.”

  “He envies you.”

  Huntingdon looked at her hard. “Maybe. In any event, now that he knows you’re the girl from my past, I’m afraid his suspicious appetite has been whet. He’ll be insatiable, looking for anything to hurt me.” He took her chin in his hand, and drew her gaze to his. “Including using you.”

  Her heart clutched at the huskiness in his voice. She was powerless to resist