Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(39)

“Bother you,” Livia rejoined without heat, and yawned. “Perhaps I will.” Standing, she wandered to Aline and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “As for you, dearest, have a care in your dealings with McKenna. I suspect that he is a far better game player than you.”

“We’ll see about that,” Aline replied, eliciting a laugh from Livia and a worried frown from Mrs. Faircloth.

Nine

After a night of dancing, none of the guests at Stony Cross Park was inclined to awaken before noon, except for a small group of men who wished to go shooting. As Aline sipped from a cup of tea and smiled at the early risers who were gathering at the back terrace, she was disconcerted to see McKenna in their midst.

It was daybreak. The air was cool and heavy as the weak English sun struggled ineffectually to burn through the haze. Sitting at an outside table with a silk shawl knotted over her thin morning dress, Aline tried not to stare at McKenna. However, it was difficult to conceal her fascination. McKenna possessed a dynamic presence, an inherent virility, that she had seen in no other man except perhaps her brother. And the sportsman’s attire suited McKenna perfectly, the black coat defining the breadth of his shoulders, with dark forest-green breeches closely following his muscular legs, and black leather boots conforming to his long calves. Such garments were becoming to any man, but on someone as big as McKenna, the effect was awe-inspiring.

Sensing her discreet regard, McKenna glanced at her quickly. Their gazes held in a flash of raw interest, before he forced himself to turn and reply to a guest who had approached him.

Aline stared into the hot amber depths of her tea, her body filled with exquisite tension. She did not look up until her brother approached to ask about the day’s schedule.

“Breakfast will be served at the pavilion by the lake,” Aline replied. On extended visits such as this, the first meal of the day was never served before noon. It would be a prodigious repast, with a multitude of hearty dishes and just enough champagne to revive the mood of the previous evening. Aline reached out to touch her brother’s broad brown hand. “Have a good morning,” she said cheerfully, “and do try to keep your distance from guests with bad aim.”

Marcus grinned and spoke in a low voice. “That’s not usually a problem with Americans. Although few of them can ride worth a damn, they’re fair shots.” Continuing to lean over Aline, he waited until her gaze lifted to his. His black eyes narrowed. “You disappeared with McKenna for almost a half hour last evening. Where did you go, and what did you do with him?”

“Marcus,” Aline said with a reproving smile, “on the occasions when you have disappeared with a female guest—and there have been many—I’ve never demanded to know where you went and what you did.”

“It’s different for you than it is for me.”

Aline was both touched and amused by his protectiveness. “Why?”

Marcus’s dark brows drew together in a frown, and his voice was infused with surliness. “Because you’re my sister.”

“I have nothing to fear from McKenna,” she said. “I know him quite well, Marcus.”

“You knew him when he was a boy,” her brother countered. “But McKenna is a stranger now, and you have no idea of what he’s capable of.”

“Don’t meddle, Marcus. I will do as I please with McKenna. And I hope that you won’t try to manipulate things as Father did, all those years ago. His interference cost me dearly, and while I had no choice but to accept it then, things are different now.”

Marcus settled a hand on the back of her chair. The tautness of his mouth betrayed his concern. “Aline,” he asked carefully, “What do you think he wants from you?”

The answer was clear to both of them. However, Aline saw that her brother didn’t yet understand what she desired. “The same thing that I want from him,” she replied.

“What did you just say?” Marcus stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her.

Sighing, Aline glanced across the terrace at McKenna, who was engaged in a conversation with two other men. “Haven’t you ever wished that you could steal back just a few hours of your past?” she asked softly. “That’s all I want…just a taste of what might have been.”

“No, I never wish for that,” came his brusque reply. “The words ‘might have been’ mean nothing to me. There’s only now, and the future.”

“That’s because there are no limitations to your future,” she said evenly. “But there are to mine.”

Marcus’s hand compressed into a hard fist. “Because of a few scars?”

The question made her eyes flash dangerously. “You’ve never seen my legs, Marcus. You don’t know what you’re talking about. And coming from a man who takes his pick of the most beautiful women in London as if he were sampling from a tin of bonbons—”

“Are you implying that I’m some shallow fool who values a woman only for her appearance?”

Aline was tempted to retract her charge in the interest of maintaining peace between them. But as she considered the last few women that Marcus had carried on with…“I’m sorry to say, Marcus, that each of your recent choice of companions—the last four or five, at least—displayed all the intelligence of a turnip. And yes, they were all quite beautiful, and I doubt that you were able to have a sensible conversation with any of them for longer than five minutes.”