Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(21)

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving hers. “I wanted to have a look at the river…it’s been so long since I’ve seen it.”

His accent was strange, soft and drawn-out, with extra vowels added in places that weren’t necessary.

“You sound like an American,” Aline whispered, willing her tight throat to relax.

“I’ve lived in New York for a long time.”

“You disappeared without a word to anyone. I…” She paused, scarcely able to breathe. “I worried for you.”

“Did you?” McKenna smiled faintly, though his face was cold. “I had to leave Bristol rather suddenly. The shipbuilder I was apprenticed to, Mr. Ilbery, turned out to be a bit heavy-handed in his discipline. After a beating that left me with a few broken ribs and a cracked skull, I decided to leave and make a new start somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry,” Aline whispered, blanching. Fighting back a ripple of queasiness, she forced herself to ask, “How were you able to afford the passage to America? It must have been expensive.”

“Five pounds. More than a year’s pay.” A touch of irony edged his voice, revealing that the sum, so desperately needed then, was nothing to him now. “I wrote to Mrs. Faircloth, and she sent it to me from her own savings.”

Aline bent her head, her mouth trembling as she remembered the day his letter arrived…the day that her world had fallen apart and she had been forever changed.

“How is she?” she heard McKenna ask. “Is she still employed here?”

“Oh yes. She is still here, and quite well.”

“Good.”

Carefully McKenna leaned over and picked up the discarded handkerchief from the ground, seeming not to notice the way Aline stiffened at his proximity. Straightening, he resumed his seat on the nearby rock, and studied her. “How beautiful you are,” he said dispassionately, as if he were admiring a painting or a striking view. “Even more so than I remembered. You wear no ring, I see.”

Her fingers curled into the loose folds of her skirts. “No. I never married.”

That earned a strange glance from him. Brooding darkness filtered through the vivid blue-green of his eyes, like a summer sky filling with smoke. “Why not?”

She fought to conceal her upheaval with a calm, offhand smile. “It wasn’t my fate, I suppose. And you? Did you ever—”

“No.”

The news should not have brought the pressure of a rapid heartbeat to the base of her throat. But it did.

“And Livia?” McKenna asked softly. “What became of her?”

“Unmarried as well. She resides here with Marcus and me, and she…well, you will probably see very little of her.”

“Why?”

Aline searched for words that would explain her sister’s situation in a way that would not cause him to judge her harshly. “Livia does not often go out into society, nor does she choose to mix with the guests here. There was a scandal two years ago. Livia was betrothed to Lord Amberley, a young man with whom she was very much in love. Before they could be married, he was killed in a hunting accident.” She paused to brush away a beetle that had landed on her skirt.

McKenna’s expression was impassive. “What is the scandal in that?”

“Not long after that, Livia had a miscarriage, and so everyone knew that she and Amberley had…” She paused helplessly. “Livia made the mistake of confiding her sorrows to one of her friends, who couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Although Marcus and I tried to stem the gossip, soon the entire county was buzzing, and it spread to London.” She shot him a defiant glance. “In my opinion, Livia did nothing wrong. She and Amberley were in love, and they were going to be married. But of course there are those who try to make her a pariah, and Livia refuses to come out of mourning. My mother is mortified by the situation, and has spent most of her time abroad ever since. And I am glad my father is no longer living, as he would undoubtedly have condemned Livia for her actions.”

“But your brother doesn’t?”

“No, Marcus is nothing like our father. He is every bit as honorable, but he is also very compassionate, and rather freethinking, too.”

“A freethinking Marsden,” McKenna mused, seeming to find it a contradictory phrase.

The glint of humor in his eyes somehow soothed her, eased her, and she was finally able to take a full breath. “You will agree, after you come to know Marcus better.”

It was clear that the gulf between them was now even wider than it had been in childhood. Their worlds were, as always, so vastly different that there was no possibility of intimacy between them. Now they could interact as polite strangers, with no danger of heartbreak. The old McKenna no longer existed, just as the girl Aline had once been was also gone. She looked at the moss-carpeted earth, the torpid flow of the river, the diluted blue of the sky, before she was finally able to meet his gaze. And she was desperately grateful for the feeling of unreality that allowed her to face him without falling apart.

“I had better return to the house,” she said, levering herself from the rock. “I have many responsibilities…”

McKenna stood immediately, the silhouette of his body dark and graceful against the flow of the river behind him.