The Unthinkable (31 page)

“How can you say such a thing?” Fanny sputtered, aghast.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why—after all that had happened—your mother agreed to sponsor Lizzie for a season?”

Fanny blanched, the red blush of anger slowly dissipating from her cheeks. “I never thought…”

“Didn’t you?” Genie prodded gently. “Didn’t you think it odd that she would bestow such largess upon my sister and brother?”

Fanny shook her head. “It wasn’t until much later that I found out what role my mother had played in your disappearance. I was never told the details. I thought it was for me that she brought Lizzie to London, though I suppose I did wonder about your brother getting the parsonage at Ashby. I should have known.” She paused, having obvious difficulty in assimilating this new information into the pile of blame that she’d heaped at Genie’s feet. Having a fair share of the Hastings pride, she refused to back down and pressed on. “What my mother did was abominable. But still, you could have confided in Lizzie.”

Genie thought back, trying to remember what had been going on in her mind at the time. She hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly. “I didn’t want to put Lizzie in a difficult position with my parents. It was better if she knew nothing. Then she wouldn’t be forced to lie.”

“But don’t you see? Lizzie was already involved. When you left, she blamed herself for what had happened to you.”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course Lizzie was not to blame. How could she think such a thing?”

“It’s not such an absurdity. For a time, I blamed myself as well. If you recall we helped you and my brother meet in private, we encouraged you in a situation we knew was wrong. When you vanished under a cloud of suspicion, Lizzie felt like she’d let you down. She took your disgrace as hard as if it had been her own.”

Genie recalled how involved the young girls had been, how excited they’d been to be part of the intrigue. “We never should have involved either one of you. I’m sorry. I never thought… Perhaps I should have told Lizzie. But believe me, Fanny, I never meant to hurt her.”

“Well, you did.”

Proud
and
stubborn, Genie thought, amending her previous description of Hastings character traits. “Tell me what happened in London,” Genie urged. “Caro said Lizzie had a very successful season but never returned. Did you two have a falling out?”

“Of course not. I begged her to come year after year, but she refused.” Fanny stopped, weighing how much to tell her.

“Please, Fanny, I need to know.”

Fanny sighed—swayed if not convinced—then explained. “Despite the whispers about your disappearance, Lizzie was extremely popular that first season. She had many offers, but refused every one of them. Her heart was never in it. She changed after you left, she became sad and depressed. She said she would not be happy until you had returned and she could be assured that you were well. So she has lived in Thornbury ever since, rarely venturing out into society. And you,” she accused, her voice increasing in intensity. “You could have freed her from the guilt years ago. But you never returned. You didn’t even have the decency to write. Not one letter to tell her that you’d married and were well, living in America.”

Genie fought back the denial that sprang to her lips. Fanny couldn’t know the truth. Instead, she shook her head regretfully. She couldn’t believe that her vivacious, sweet sister could have shut herself off from society all because of her mistakes. Lizzie had looked up to Genie, but she’d also been very protective of her older, “greener” sister. Perhaps Genie should have guessed that Lizzie would feel some responsibility for what had happened, but she hadn’t. “Poor, dear Lizzie.”

“Yes, poor Lizzie,” Fanny retorted. “Like Edmund, another casualty of your thoughtlessness. Why, Genie? Why did you not write to her?”

Genie opened her mouth to defend herself, but quickly slammed it shut again. Better if Fanny continued to think the worst of her. But she couldn’t just say nothing. “I was ashamed.”

“Of what had happened with Huntingdon?”

“Yes.” Amongst other things.

Fanny grimaced. “He behaved horribly. I told him he’d made a mistake, was acting like the worst blackguard, but he wasn’t ready to hear it. He regretted his conduct almost instantly, but it was already too late. You’d disappeared. He loved you, Genie, but you never came back. My mother said you swore to return after we left for London, but you didn’t.”

She’d wanted to. But circumstances had conspired against her. But Genie couldn’t tell her any of that.

When Genie did not explain, Fanny continued. “Any sympathy I had for you fled when I saw how you’d abandoned Lizzie, your family, and now Edmund. You’ve changed, Genie. The girl I remember loved her family. She would have written. She would have let her family know that she was alive. How could you treat them so cruelly? Lizzie’s thrown her life away because of you.”

Guilt tore at Genie’s conscience. Somehow she would make it up to Lizzie.

Hands on her hips, Fanny stared at her, waiting.

Genie hated that Fanny thought so horribly of her. It pained her not to explain, remaining silent after such an onslaught was near impossible. But she did. There was nothing that she could say to Fanny that would explain why she’d cut herself off from her family. Shame, poverty, fear. Reasons that required far more of an explanation than she could give.

Disgusted, Fanny turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Furious, Fanny practically sprinted down the hallways to return to the drawing room. Who was that woman? Certainly not the girl she remembered. How could Genie just sit there with that hard, expressionless look on her face and say absolutely nothing? Fanny turned the corner and nearly slammed right into Hawk.

“Whoa, whoa,” he laughed, grabbing her shoulders to steady her. “What’s all the hurry about?” When he caught sight of the expression on her face, he sobered. “What’s wrong, Fanny? Has something happened?”

Concern for
her
on Hawk’s face buoyed her lagging spirits. She almost smiled before remembering the reason for her anger. Her gaze narrowed. “It’s Genie.”

He paled, any concern for Fanny vanishing in an instant. “Genie? Did something happen? Is she hurt?” He looked over Fanny’s shoulder, ready to vault over her if necessary. Disappointment burned in Fanny’s chest. Genie. Always Genie.

“Nothing is wrong with Genie,” she said, her voice tight. “We had an argument, that’s all. She’s changed so much I barely know her anymore.”

Hawk sighed with relief, and then studied her no doubt petulant pout. A strange look crossed his face. Like he wanted to say something. “Be kind to her, Fanny. Things were difficult for her after she left Thornbury.”

Fanny seethed with jealousy. She couldn’t help it. “How can you defend her after what she did to you?”

Hawk sighed and tucked Fanny’s hand into the crook of his arm to take her back to the party. “I was not without blame in what happened,” he said.

Fanny didn’t believe that for one instant. Hawk was kind, loyal, and above all—a gentleman. “Genie acted cruelly and selfishly.” When it looked like he wanted to argue, she stopped him. “It’s not only you, but Lizzie and Fitz too. I fear what she might do to my brother, he cares for her deeply.”

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.

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.