Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(41)

The man reached out to steady her, grasping her elbows until he was assured of her balance. “Forgive me. I was in a bit of a hurry to join the others.”

“They’ve only just left,” Aline said. “Good morning, Mr. Shaw.”

With his sunstruck hair, lightly tanned complexion and sapphire eyes, Gideon Shaw was dazzling. He possessed an elegant insouciance that could only have come from being born to limitless wealth. The faint lines that cynicism had carved around his eyes and mouth only enhanced his looks, weathering his golden handsomeness agreeably. He was a tall and wellformed man, though his proportions did not approach McKenna’s warriorlike build.

“If you descend the stairs on the left and follow the path to the forest, you will catch up to them,” Aline told him.

Shaw’s smile was like a ray of sunshine piercing a cloud bank. “Thank you, my lady. It is my particular torment to enjoy sports that can only take place early in the morning.”

“I assume you also like to fish, then?”

“Oh yes.”

“Some morning you must go with my brother to our trout stream.”

“Perhaps I will—although I may not be up to the challenge. English trout are far more wily than American ones.”

“Can the same be said for English businessmen?” Aline asked, her eyes twinkling.

“Much to my relief, no.” Shaw made a slight bow in preparation to leave, then paused as a thought occurred to him. “My lady, I have a question…”

Somehow Aline knew exactly what he was going to ask. It took considerable acting ability to maintain an ingenuous expression. “Yes, Mr. Shaw?”

“Last night, as I took a stroll through the back gardens, I happened to make the acquaintance of a young woman…” He paused, obviously considering how much of the encounter he should describe.

“She did not give you her name?” Aline asked innocently.

“No.”

“Was she one of the guests? No? Well, then, she was probably a servant.”

“I don’t believe so.” His brow was hemmed with a slight frown of concentration as he continued. “She has light brown hair and green eyes…at least, I think they are green…and she is small of stature, perhaps only an inch taller than you.”

Aline shrugged apologetically. Although she would have liked to oblige him by giving him her sister’s name, she wasn’t certain that Livia wanted him to know her identity yet. “At the moment, Mr. Shaw, I can think of no one on the estate who matches that description. Are you certain that she wasn’t a figment of your imagination?”

He shook his head, his dark lashes lowering over rich blue eyes as he seemed to contemplate a problem of great magnitude. “She was real. And I need—that is, I would very much like—to find her.”

“This woman seems to have made quite an impression on you.”

A self-mocking smile deepened the corners of Shaw’s lips, and he dragged a hand through the gleaming layers of his hair, carelessly disheveling the amber-shaded locks. “Meeting her was like taking a deep breath for the first time in years,” he replied, not quite meeting her gaze.

“Yes, I understand.”

The unmistakable sincerity in her voice seemed to snare his attention. He smiled suddenly, and murmured, “I see that you do.”

Feeling a rush of liking for the man, Aline gestured in the direction of the departing sportsmen. “You can still catch the shooting party if you run.”

Shaw laughed briefly. “My lady, there is nothing in this life I want badly enough to chase after it.”

“Good,” she said, pleased. “Then you may take an early breakfast with me instead. I’ll have it served out here.”

With her companion seeming more than agreeable at the prospect, Aline directed a servant to set out breakfast for two at the table. A steaming basket of scones and sweetened buns was brought to them quickly, along with plates of broiled eggs, baked mushrooms, and thin slices of roast partridge. Although Shaw seemed to enjoy the breakfast offering, he seemed far more interested in a carafe of strongly brewed coffee, drinking it as if it were the antidote to some recently ingested poison.

Settling back in her chair, Aline popped a morsel of buttered scone into her mouth, and slid him a glance of flirtatious inquiry—the look that never failed to elicit the information that she wanted from a man. “Mr. Shaw,” she asked, following the scone with a sip of well-sugared tea, “how many years have you known McKenna?”

The question did not seem to surprise Shaw. After having downed two cups of coffee with barely a pause for breath, he now applied himself to drinking a third at a more leisurely pace. “About eight,” he replied.

“McKenna told me that the two of you met while he was still a ferryman—that you were a passenger on his boat.”

Apeculiar smile curved his lips. “Is that what he told you?”

She tilted her head to the side as she regarded him closely. “Is it not the truth?”

“McKenna tends to shade certain details in the interest of shielding my reputation. In fact, he’s far more concerned about my reputation than I am.”

Carefully Aline stirred more sugar in her tea. “Why did you strike up a partnership with a mere ferryman?” she asked in a deliberately relaxed tone.