The Unthinkable Read Online Free PDF

caught up in a pink and violet whirlwind.”
    Genie turned to Caro, taking note of the bright eyes and flushed cheeks that surely matched her own. Fortunately, Caro had not lacked for suitors either. As the only daughter of the baronet Sir John Howard, Caro was guaranteed a certain modicum of success by her connections alone, but her vivacious joie de vivre immediately enraptured all around her. Her otherwise ordinary features transformed to beauty by the force of personality alone.
    “I know what you mean,” Genie agreed. “The night has flown by. Everything has happened so fast I can barely remember any of it.”
    “You better,” Caro warned, “or Lizzie will never forgive you.”
    They shared a smile. Bereft of a sister, Caro loved Lizzie as her own. Thinking of her last conversation with Lizzie, Genie said, “She’ll be disappointed that the duke and his family have chosen not to attend. She was in quite a sulk when I left. I only pacified her by promising details.”
    Caro nodded, understanding. “I suppose it is to be expected, but a disappointment all the same. I’ve never seen a duke before.”
    “Most in this room have not.”
    Above the din of the music, a wave of whispers rippled through the hall. Genie glanced toward the entry. A shiver of excitement ran up her spine. A distinguished older gentleman and an extremely thin woman of indeterminate age, wearing the most extraordinary turban she had ever seen, were being welcomed by the Marquess and Marchioness of Buckingham. Their unmatched elegance and haughty disdain alone proclaimed them as the Duke and Duchess of Huntingdon. Not to mention the giant diamond broach that secured a plumed feather that must have been two feet high to the turban. Genie could see the large sparkling gem from across the room.
    “Perhaps Lizzie will not be disappointed after all?” Genie said, peering through the crowd that had gathered around the new arrivals but unable to see whether their sons had accompanied them.
    “Her gown is magnificent.”
    Genie nodded. It was true. The intricate design, the elaborate beading in a room of simply adorned gowns, the workmanship, and the bold purple color were unrivaled. The Duchess’s sophisticated ensemble exemplified rare wealth and power. Even the formidable Marchioness seemed provincial in comparison.
    Their dancing partners, amiable young men from Tewkesbury, reappeared with the promised ratafia, drawing their attention away from the ducal party. She was led back onto the dance floor and the opportunity to apprize the sons from afar was lost.
     
     
    Lizzie was going to kill her. The ball was almost over and she had yet to catch a glimpse of the duke’s sons. She’d managed a few discreet searches, but thus far, no luck. Perhaps they had decided not to join their parents? Perhaps they were too proud to partake of humble country society?
    She tried not to be disappointed but failed.
    The dance ended and her partner led her back toward the circle of women that included her mother and Mrs. Andrews. Though some in the room might look down on the Andrews’ trade connections as inferior, Mrs. Prescott was not so small-minded. “There’s no shame in doing a hard day’s work,” was her gentle refrain.
    Before Genie could rejoin her mother, an animated Caro intercepted her. “They’re here,” she whispered.
    “You’ve seen them?”
    Caro nodded; a broad smile on her face.
    “Then tell me,” Genie asked impatiently. “Are the duke’s sons more frog or prince?”
    Caro’s eyes widened to enormous proportions. “See for yourself,” she whispered.
    Genie’s eyes narrowed quizzically. She turned to find her eldest brother Charles at her side, looking as if he’d just swallowed a horse.
    A lump of dread formed in the pit of her stomach. Please, don’t let the duke’s sons be standing right next to me .

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Her prayer was only half answered.
    “Sister,” Charles said tightly. “May I introduce Lord