The Unthinkable (34 page)

She turned away. Unable to look at him any longer. She didn’t want to see the subtle reminders of all that she had lost.

But the dull ache in her chest, the longing for something just out of her reach, told her that she had not forgotten.

What had he done?

Huntingdon opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had just happened. His body had found release, but everything else felt terribly wrong. One minute she was nearly falling apart in his arms and the next she’d seemed a million miles away.

He didn’t know what to say. He felt so bloody awkward. Like he’d failed her again.

Disappointment rocked him. He should be holding her in his arms, bathing in the aftermath of orgasmic bliss, but instead she lay stiffly next to him, every outward sign indicating not to touch her. So he didn’t. Though he wanted to pull her into his arms and beg her forgiveness.

Never had he felt so inadequate. Even after their first time. The first time there was always pain. This time he had no excuse. He should have done everything to ensure that she joined him in release. But he’d fallen on her like some randy schoolboy.

He’d made a grave mistake. Rather than the closeness he wanted, she’d slipped even further away from him.

“Genie, I…”

Her gaze met his and he faltered. The disappointment in her eyes cut him to the quick. He’d let her down. “Genie, I’m sorry. I should have—”

She stopped him. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“But you didn’t—”

“I was nervous.”

Her words did not ring true. It had been more than nervousness. Something had made her withdraw from him and he was such a lust-driven fool he’d failed to heed the warnings her body had tried to give him.

Had there been more to her request than grounds for an annulment?

He’d sensed her pulling away that first time, too, but had attributed it to hesitation. Now he wondered if there was another reason—a far more nefarious reason. He knew where Edmund had found her, and the condition he’d found her in. She’d been beaten. But had there been more to it? Or had one of the men who frequented the brothel…

He couldn’t finish the thought. Rage took hold of him. Rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The thought of someone hurting her…

He didn’t believe her. Genie could see it in his eyes. He blamed himself. And Genie feared that with how vulnerable she felt right now, if he pulled her in his arms and asked the right questions she could do something foolish and tell him everything.

Even worse than her shame would be his pity. Or would it be disgust? Her secrets were her protection, and she was scared that without them she would lose her strength. She would be weak—vulnerable—as before.

He stared at her long and hard, as if searching for an answer. A strange look crossed his face, like something had just occurred to him. His eyes flashed with a spark of anger.

He took her chin in his hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “Did somebody hurt you… intimately?”

Her heart fell to her feet. Her blood pounded with her increasing panic. How easily he’d guessed. Was her damage so obvious? Shame caused her to lash out. “Do you mean other than you?”

He flinched, but his hand didn’t move from her face. “Were you raped?”

“No!” she snapped back honestly.

But he didn’t believe her. She could feel the penetrating scrutiny of his gaze scanning every inch of her face, waiting for a crack. A crack that she wouldn’t give him.

“If something happened you need to tell me.”

She jerked her face away. She didn’t need to tell him anything; he had no right to her secrets. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Something happened a few minutes ago, and I want to find out what it was.”

“Nothing happened.”

“I used to please you,” he said softly.

She choked on the tears balling in her throat and blurted out harshly, “I used to love you.”

He jerked back as if she’d struck him. The force of the raw emotion that ravaged his face struck her cold. Her chest pinched with regret. He looked shocked, then destroyed, like a man who’d been beaten.

“I see,” he said tightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to your rest.”

Genie stared in horror at his expression. She wanted to say something to explain, but the words stuck in her throat and he’d already turned his back on her. She hadn’t meant to reject him so cruelly, she just wanted him to leave so she could nurse her wounds in privacy.

He rose from the bed and quickly moved to gather up his belongings, the clothes that not so long ago he’d teasingly stripped from his body.

A swatch of blue hanging from a pocket in his waistcoat caught her attention. He jerked around and she watched as it fluttered to the ground.

“Wait,” she called after him, “you dropped—”

But her words were lost in the loud slam of the door. A knot of dread formed in her gut. She slipped out from under the covers and started toward the thin piece of blue fabric, the dread increasing with each step. In her heart, she knew what it was. And what it meant.

He hadn’t forgotten her. He’d had her with him all this time.

She knelt on the ground and lovingly lifted the tattered and faded blue ribbon to her face. Tears streamed down her face. Dear God, what had she done?

The ribbon was still clutched in her fingers when she woke in the morning curled up in a ball on the floor, right where she’d collapsed in tears the night before. It felt like a dam had burst inside her. The discovery of the ribbon had shattered the protective wall she’d surrounded herself with since Edmund had found her at Madame Solange’s.

The small, insignificant piece of trim had changed everything.

All this time, he’d kept the talisman of the time they’d first made love. She
had
meant something to him. He hadn’t forgotten her. But the question that ate at her soul was what else it might mean? Could he possibly have cared for her all this time? Her cruel words from the night before echoed in her head and she knew she had to see him.

But not looking like this.

She rang for her maid and began the long process of her toilette, made longer by the damage she’d done to her eyes from the night of crying. Cold compresses helped with the swelling, and liniment with the blotchiness. By the time she made her way downstairs, it was midmorning.

His valet informed her that his grace had left the house on estate business before the sun had risen. As the manservant didn’t know when he was expected to return, Genie waited for him in his private study.

Too emotionally drained to read, she passed the time by alternately staring out the window (as if that would make him appear faster) and inspecting the personal items scattered about the room. The two miniatures displayed prominently on his desk had to be his parents, though the cheery girl smiling back at her was barely recognizable as his mother. She chuckled at the charming portrait of him by his youngest sister, Penny, proudly hung above the sideboard next to a Gainsborough. Four or five books on husbandry and livestock were stacked on one side of his desk. Flipping through one on sheep, she noticed that he’d written extensive notes in the margins. Clearly he took his duties as duke seriously.

Without thinking, she picked up a few of the letters scattered across his desk and began to arrange them in a neat pile. Scanning the signatures, she noticed that most were progress reports from various local mines, mills, and factories. That surprised her. She knew he had numerous estates, but didn’t realize that he had other sources of income. The discovery only made her realize just how little she knew of the man he’d become.

She sat down in the chair behind his desk and picked up one of the letters. She shouldn’t be nosing around in his private things, but she admitted a certain amount of curiosity about his activities.

Intent on reading, she didn’t hear the door open.

“What are you doing?”

She dropped the letter and looked up guiltily at the sound of his clipped voice. His dark expression gave no quarter. Genie’s intentions faltered slightly under his hard stare. She’d laid down the gauntlet last night, setting the tone for their marriage, and he, apparently, had accepted. The boyish charm of the past few days had vanished.

She glanced down at one of the miniatures on the desk. He actually reminded her of his brother, Loudoun.

She drew a deep breath and lifted her chin. “I was waiting for you.”

“In the future you may make an appointment with my secretary. If you have any questions about the managing of the household, please ask my mother. She has offered to train you in what is required.”

The formality of his tone hurt more than she expected. “I didn’t mean to look through your things, but I noticed the letterhead and I was curious.”

He stared at her blankly. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

“I didn’t know that you owned mills and factories.”

“Does my being in trade offend your refined sensibilities?”

“Of course not,” she said, taken aback. “I think it shows an extreme amount of foresight.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the entry, interested despite his intention not to be. “How so?”

She shrugged. “I admit I’m no expert on the subject, but it doesn’t take much to realize that industry will be an important part of England’s future. And with landowners taxed so heavily with the war, it seems extremely prudent to diversify your sources of income.”

She’d cracked his reserve. By his look he was unabashedly impressed. “Do not underrate your expertise, my dear. I’m afraid you have more insight into the subject than half of parliament. Which is one of the reasons a post in Perceval’s government is so important to me.”

For a moment Genie preened under his praise before the ramifications of what she had done hit her. He wouldn’t have that post. Fearing that guilt was plain on her face, she stood up from behind the desk and moved to the window. He straightened from his lazy stance in the doorway and moved into the room, closing the door behind him.

“I’m sure you did not wait for me all this time to discuss my mills.”

“No.” She shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to explain.

“I’m afraid I’m very busy.”

She gathered her courage and held out her hand. “I wanted to ask you about this.” Her fingers opened to reveal the ribbon.

Something flickered across his face before his expression turned accusing. “Where did you get that?”

He obviously thought she’d been looking through his things. Given what she’d just been doing, she didn’t blame him. “It fell from your waistcoat last night.”

He continued to stare at her wordlessly. It was impossible to guess what he might be thinking. She looked for a sign, any sign that he still cared for her.

Clearly, he wasn’t going to explain, so she asked, “You kept it all this time?”

He shrugged noncommittally, perhaps embarrassed by the sentimentality.

“You remembered,” she prodded.

“Of course I did,” he said sharply. “I already told you as much.”

“But I didn’t believe you.”

“And now you do?” He laughed harshly. “You trust a piece of ribbon and not my word.”

“You’d given me your word before.”

He flinched. “You’ve developed a rather keen ability to level a man with the blade of your tongue, Genie.”

“If you mean I’ve grown stronger and I’m no longer a foolish girl to gamble everything on the word of a ‘gentleman,’ then yes I have changed.”

“I never thought of you as someone I could take advantage of.”

“That’s not how it seemed from my perspective. I thought it was all a game to you.”

“It wasn’t a game. I cared for you.” His voice grew thick. “Deeply.”

He still cared. The knowledge of what they had lost cut through her. Her voice broke. “Then why did you abandon me?”

He sighed wearily. “I was a young fool. I won’t excuse my conduct, but I never meant for things to happen the way they did. I never meant to make love to you. But it happened. And if you’ll recall, I didn’t have to force you.”

“No, you didn’t. But you promised to marry me. I trusted you.”

“I wanted to marry you. When I spoke those words, I honestly believed my parents would not object to a match between us. You weren’t the only one who was young and naïve. I should have fought harder, stood up to them, done the honorable thing. I know that. And if you had not disappeared, I would have. No matter what you think. I will accept most of the blame for what happened, but not all of it.”

Stung, Genie recoiled. How dare he blame anything on her! She opened her mouth to argue, then she quickly slammed it shut again. What if he was right? For so many years she’d blamed him, she’d ignored her own part in what had happened. She’d been a willing participant, a very willing participant. He hadn’t forced her. She’d known that what she was doing was wrong, but ignored it.
Two
people had made love on that riverbank. Shouldn’t she bear some responsibility for her own decisions?

He’d made mistakes, but so had she.

But she wasn’t ready to give up on all of that anger and resentment she’d harbored for so long. “You can hardly blame me for ‘disappearing.’ Your mother threatened to ruin my family, and when I wrote to you for help, you refused to come to me.”

He took a few steps toward her, she thought he was going to pull her into his arms but at the last minute he stopped. Instead, he dragged his fingers through his hair. “That letter was the single biggest mistake of my life. I was being pressured from every direction and I was angry at you for forcing my hand. I came a few days later, but you’d already left.” He reached out and took her chin in his hand, tipping her face back. Her heart twisted; stunned by the depth of emotion in his gaze. “Haven’t you ever done something you regret, something that had consequences far beyond what you might have anticipated?”

Lizzie. Her sister immediately sprang to mind. Genie had never realized what leaving might do to her sister, just as Huntingdon could not have known the horrible chain of events that his letter would set in motion.