Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(12)

“Then for his sake, make him believe it.”

Aline did not hesitate in her reply. “I want a situation found for him. A decent one—an apprenticeship—something that will allow him to better himself.”

Her father actually blinked at the bold demand. “What gives you the temerity to believe that I would do that for him?”

“I am still a virgin,” she said softly. “For now.”

Their gazes held for a frozen moment.

“I see,” the earl murmured. “You will threaten to rut with the first man you can find, be he a pauper or a pig farmer, if I don’t grant your request.”

“Precisely.” It required no acting skill for Aline to convince him. She was sincere. After McKenna had left for good, nothing would hold any value for her. Not even her own body.

Aline’s audacity seemed to interest the earl, fully as much as it annoyed him. “It seems you may have some of my blood in you yet,” he murmured. “Though that is, as always, very much in question, considering your mother. Very well, I will find a situation for the insolent bastard. And you’ll do your part to ensure that Stony Cross is rid of him.”

“I have your word on that?” she persisted quietly, her fists clenched at her sides.

“Yes.”

“Then you have mine in return.”

A contemptuous sneer distorted his features. “I don’t require your word, daughter. Not because I trust you—I assure you, I do not. But because I have learned that the honor of a woman is of less value than the sweepings from the floor.”

Since no reply was required, Aline stood there stiffly until he snapped at her to leave. Numb and disoriented, she walked to her room, where she would wait for McKenna to come for her. Thoughts clamored frantically in her mind. One thing was certain—no power on earth would ever keep McKenna away from her, as long as he believed that she still loved him.

Three

It had been a long, hard day’s work for McKenna, helping the gardener’s assistants to construct a stone wall around the fruit orchard. Hours of lifting heavy rock had caused his muscles to tremble with strain. With a rueful grin, he reflected that he wouldn’t be of much use to Aline for a day or two—he was almost too sore to move. But perhaps she would let him lay his head in her lap, and allow him to nap for a few minutes, with her perfume and softness surrounding him. Sleeping while her gentle fingers stroked his hair…the thought filled him with weary anticipation.

However, before he could go to Aline, he would have to see Mrs. Faircloth, who had bid him to come to her at once. After bathing in the old iron tub that all the menservants made use of, McKenna went to the kitchen with his hair still wet. His skin was scented with the acrid soap that was used to clean floors and wash the laundry, as well as given to the servants for their personal needs.

“The hall boy said you wanted me,” McKenna said without preamble. As he glanced at the housekeeper, he was puzzled by the consternated look on her face.

“Lord Westcliff has asked to see you,” Mrs. Faircloth said.

Suddenly the large kitchen lost its comforting warmth, and the rich sweetness of a pot of jam simmering on the stove ceased to call to his ever-ravenous appetite. “Why?” McKenna asked cautiously.

Mrs. Faircloth shook her head. The heat of the kitchen had caused wisps of her salt-and-pepper hair to stick to the sides of her cheeks. “I’m sure I don’t know, and neither does Salter. Have you gotten into some kind of mischief, McKenna?”

“Mischief, no.”

“Well, to my knowledge you have done your work, and you’ve behaved yourself as well as a boy your age is able.” She frowned contemplatively. “Perhaps the master wishes to commend you, or send you about some special task.”

However, they both knew that was unlikely. The earl would never summon a lower servant for such a reason. It was the butler’s province to offer praise or discipline, or hand down new responsibilities. “Go put on your livery,” Mrs. Faircoth bade him. “You can’t appear before the master in your ordinary garb. And be quick about it—he won’t want to be kept waiting.”

“Hell,” McKenna muttered, cringing at the idea of dressing in the hated livery.

Pretending to scowl, the housekeeper raised a wooden spoon threateningly. “Another blasphemous word in my presence, and I’ll rap your knuckles.”

“Yes, ma’am.” McKenna lowered his head and attempted a meek expression, which made her laugh.

She patted his cheek with her warm, plump hand. Her eyes were soft pools of brown as she smiled. “Be off with you, and after you’ve seen the earl, I’ll have some fresh bread and jam waiting for you.”

As McKenna left to comply, his smile vanished, and he let out a long, taut sigh. Nothing good would come of the earl’s request. The only possible reason for the summons was his relationship with Aline. A slightly nauseous feeling came over him. McKenna feared nothing except the possibility of being sent away from her. The thought of days, weeks, months passing without being able to see her was unfathomable…like being told that he must try to live under water. He was overwhelmed with the need to find her, now, but there was no time. One did not tarry when the earl had sent for him.

Dressing quickly in the livery of gold-braided velvet, pinching black shoes, and white stockings, McKenna went to the study where Lord Westcliff waited. The house seemed peculiarly quiet, filled with the hush that occurred before an execution took place. Using two knuckles as Salter had taught him, McKenna gave the door a cautious rap.