Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(49)

McKenna had become an American the very second his foot had touched Staten Island all those years ago. While he would always admit to a certain nostalgia for his birthplace, he had been reinvented and forged in a country where his common blood was not a hindrance. In America he had learned to stop thinking of himself as a servant. Never again would he bow and scrape before anyone. After years of backbreaking work, sacrifice, worry, and sheer mulishness, he was now sitting in Lord Westcliff’s library as a guest, instead of working in the stables for five shillings a month.

McKenna quickly became aware of the way Marcus looked from him to Aline, his sharp black eyes missing nothing. The earl was no fool—and it was obvious that he would not suffer Aline to be taken advantage of.

“I suppose you’re right,” Aline said. “If a man looks, speaks, and thinks like an American, he probably is one.” She leaned toward him slightly, her brown eyes sparkling. “However, McKenna, there is some small part of you that will always belong to Stony Cross—I refuse to let you disclaim us entirely.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said softly.

Their gazes held, and this time neither of them could manage to look away, even when an uncomfortable silence gathered in the conservatory.

Westcliff broke the spell, clearing his throat and standing so abruptly that Aline’s weight on the arm of the chair nearly caused it to topple sideways. She stood as well, giving her brother a little frown. As Westcliff spoke, he sounded so much like the old earl that the hairs prickled on the back of McKenna’s neck. “Lady Aline, I want to discuss some of the arrangements you’ve made for the next few days, to ensure that our schedules do not conflict. Accompany me to the library, if you will.”

“Certainly, my lord,” Aline said, and smiled at McKenna and Gideon, who had both risen to their feet. “Do excuse me, gentlemen. I wish you a pleasant afternoon.”

After the earl and his sister had departed, McKenna and Gideon resumed their seats and stretched out their legs.

“So,” Gideon remarked in a casual tone, “it seems that your plans are well on the way.”

“What plans?” McKenna asked, moodily surveying the watery remains of his lemonade.

“To seduce Lady Aline, of course.” Lazily Gideon went to pour himself more lemonade.

McKenna responded with a noncommittal grunt.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, until McKenna asked, “Shaw…has a woman ever asked you to write a poem for her?”

“Good God, no,” Gideon replied with a snicker. “Shaws don’t write poetry. They pay others to write it for them and then they take the credit for it.” He arched his brows. “Don’t say that Lady Aline asked for such a thing?”

“Yes.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “One can’t help but marvel at the variety of ways that women have devised to make us look like flaming idiots. You’re not actually considering it, are you?”

“No.”

“McKenna, how far do you plan to take this revenge notion of yours? I rather like Lady Aline, and I’m discovering an odd reluctance to see her hurt.”

McKenna shot him a glance of cold warning. “If you try to interfere—”

“Easy,” Gideon said defensively. “I don’t intend to foul up your plans. I expect you’ll foul them up quite well enough on your own.”

McKenna lifted one brow sardonically. “Meaning?”

Gideon withdrew his flask and poured a liberal quantity of alcohol into his own lemonade. “Meaning that I’ve never seen you so spellbound by anyone or anything as you are by Lady Aline.” He took a deep swallow of the potent mixture. “And now that I’ve had some liquid fortification, I’ll venture to say that in my opinion, you still love her. And deep down, you’d rather die by slow inches than cause her one moment of pain.”

McKenna stared at him stonily. “You’re a drunken fool, Shaw,” he muttered and rose to his feet.

“Was that ever in question?” Gideon asked, tossing back the rest of his drink with a practiced swallow as he watched McKenna’s departing figure.

As evening approached and the temperature cooled, the guests at Stony Cross Park began to congregate in the entrance hall. Small groups drifted out to the graveled drive, where a line of carriages waited to convey them to the village. Among those who wished to amuse themselves at the fair were Gideon’s sister, Mrs. Susan Chamberlain, and her husband, Paul. During the past few days Aline had found it easy enough to socialize with the Chamberlains, but she could not summon any real liking for them. Susan was golden-haired and tall like her brother Gideon, but she did not possess his easy humor or his gift of self-mockery. Rather, she seemed to take herself a bit too seriously—a quality that was shared by her husband, Paul.

Just as the first carriage left, Aline happened to glance at Gideon Shaw, and she saw that his attention was ensnared by someone coming from the house. A faint smile curved his lips, and his expression softened. Following his gaze, Aline saw with a jolt of glad surprise that Livia had finally ventured out of her self-imposed seclusion. It was the first time that Livia had gone on a public outing since Amberley’s death. Dressed in a deep rose gown edged with pale pink piping, Livia looked very young, and more than a little nervous.

Aline went to her sister with a welcoming smile. “Darling,” she said, sliding an arm around her sister’s slender waist, “how nice that you’ve decided to join us. Now the evening will be perfect.”