The Unthinkable Read online

  One side of Hawk’s mouth lifted. “Your brother can take care of himself.” The decidedly avuncular expression in his eyes made her want to cry. “But your concern is sweet. You’re far too protective of your friends and family, sometimes I think your emotions prevent you from seeing the whole picture. You’re so young.”

  “I’m one and twenty,” she said vehemently, managing not to stomp her foot in frustration.

  “Practically ancient.”

  He thinks I’m a child. She wanted to cry. “Don’t make fun of me,” she said hollowly.

  He seemed to take pity on her earnestness. “I’m sorry.” He reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear. A brotherly gesture to him, but torture to her. Her breath caught as his finger swept the side of her cheek. She thought she might die with longing. For a brief instant she thought awareness flickered across his gaze. He smiled gently, perhaps reading her thoughts and dropped his hand, excusing himself.

  Her hand covered her cheek, holding in the heat left by his touch.

  But before she could consider what had just happened, someone came up beside her. Turning, she saw that it was Percy.

  “Seems like I’m not the only one who is not enjoying myself,” he said wryly.

  “What do you mean?”

  He indicated Hawk’s retreating back. “Still pining after that one?”

  Fanny didn’t answer him, she didn’t need to. No doubt her face probably said it all.

  “Don’t waste tears on Hawkesbury, Fanny,” he said gently. “If he doesn’t know your worth, he doesn’t deserve your heart.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not like that, he sees me as a sister.”

  “He’s a fool.”

  He said it with such disgust she had to smile. Percy might be an unusual champion, but right now she was just happy to have one. Unlike her relationship with her brother, Percy and she had always gotten along quite well. She never understood why he hated Fitz the way he did.

  “Not a fool. Only in love with someone else.”

  “Ah, the beautiful new duchess, conquering hearts wherever she goes?”

  Fanny shot him a look of surprise. He knew about Hawk and Genie? Her heart sank, realizing Hawk’s humiliation was common knowledge. It gave her all the more reason to be furious with Genie. “They met in America, but I don’t think she ever loved him.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think she ever got over my brother.”

  “But she married?”

  “So she says.”

  Percy’s eyes sparked with something beyond brotherly concern. “What do you mean?”

  Fanny bit her bottom lip, nervous. She’d allowed jealousy to loosen her tongue, giving voice to her suspicions that were based on nothing more than intuition. Despite Percy’s kindness to her, she probably shouldn’t be discussing this with him. But it was so nice to have someone on her side. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “Don’t mind me, I’m not making any sense right now.”

  He gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. “He’ll forget about her.”

  Fanny thought for a moment. “Yes, eventually, but it won’t make any difference. He’ll never see me as anything other than his friend’s little sister.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth and gave her a courtly kiss. “As I said, he’s a fool.”

  Genie returned to the celebration not long after Fanny had stormed out of the chamber.

  She smiled and laughed, chatting amiably with the guests, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Lizzie. How could Lizzie have blamed herself for Genie’s mistakes?

  Genie had never considered what her leaving would do to Lizzie. She thought she was doing the right thing, avoiding scandal, enabling her sister to have a London season. Instead, she’d left her sister to bear the brunt of the speculation and to shoulder the blame—wrongly—for Genie’s mistakes.

  Had Genie’s mistakes ruined her sister’s chances for happiness too? She remembered how anxious Lizzie had been to make her entry into society, how she couldn’t wait to have a beau (or two), how the thought of a London season would have filled her to bursting with excitement. Could the sad, quiet girl that Fanny described be the same lighthearted, naughty sister she’d left five years ago?

  Was it possible for someone to change that much?

  Of course it was. All she had to do was think of herself.

  Genie felt sick. How could her actions have had such unintended consequences?

  A firm hand slid around her waist and she looked up to see Huntingdon at her side. Awareness and a warm sensation, not at all unpleasant, swept over her. Unintended consequences. Just like Huntingdon could never have guessed what would happen to her when he hadn’t answered the plea in her note.

  She shivered. Where did that come from? The situations were not at all the same… or were they? Thinking she was cold, Huntingdon lifted the shawl she wore low across her back and settled it higher over her shoulders. “I was beginning to worry about you.” Huntingdon looked over meaningfully at Fanny who was speaking with Percy. “Is everything all right?”

  It was so strange having a normal conversation with him. Her husband. One that did not involve anger and recrimination. Genie managed a crooked smile. “Fanny is very upset with me.”

  Annoyance darkened his expression. “If she is being impertinent or causing you any problems—”

  She put her hand on his arm, stopping him. “Don’t be upset with her. She has every right to be angry.”

  “Will you tell me what this is about?”

  “Yes. Later.”

  He nodded, pleased, before he nearly fell over at her feet from a firm thump at his back.

  “Delightful celebration, my boy,” Lord Davenport said. “Capital, capital. But if I were you, I’d take my bride away before she’s too exhausted to enjoy the rest of the wedding traditions,” he boomed with an exaggerated wink. “If you get my meaning.”

  Genie stilled. The wedding night. She’d completely blocked it from her mind. Panic welled up within her. The cold sweat of fear broke out on her forehead. She thought that she could go through with it, but now that the time had come her confidence had deserted her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  She lay in the strange bed like a trussed up goose waiting to be devoured. Her hair had been brushed until it shimmered in long waves down her back. She wore a silk chemise and wrap, which despite being chosen for their modesty, managed to cling to every womanly curve.

  She yanked the bed coverings up to her nose and sank deeper into the feather mattress, trying to disappear. Her heart raced as the clock ticked and the fire crackled.

  She could do this…

  But it was the waiting that was the worst. Knowing what was to come, but being powerless to prevent it.

  Just like in Boston.

  Eventually, they’d worn down her resistance. Her employers, men who took her into their homes to teach their children, then tried to attack her in the hallways. Forced from one job to the next, she’d learned to let them grope. A graze of a finger on her breast, a squeeze of her bottom, a stiff kiss. She’d suffered the humiliation, knowing that each place of employment might be the last.

  But sooner or later the greedy devils would want more than she could stomach and she’d be forced to leave. Until finally, ignoring the warning bells clamoring in her head, Genie was forced to accept a position in the house of a milliner and his family. A man with beady eyes and swarthy skin who made her flesh crawl.

  Everything about it had felt wrong, but what choice did she have?

  Work or starve.

  And so she worked… and waited. Waited for the inevitable.

  It didn’t take long. One night not a month after her arrival, when the rest of the family was in bed, the milliner had snuck into her room. He’d refused to take no for an answer. She’d fought like a madwoman, his fetid hand over her mouth stifling her screams. He pulled up her dress and she felt his hard member against her stomach. Revulsion