Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(61)

“I understand,” the housekeeper said.

“You do?”

An unexpected glint of humor appeared in Mrs. Faircloth’s eyes. “I was a young woman once, difficult as that may be to believe.”

“Who did you—”

“It is not something I ever discuss,” the housekeeper said firmly. “And it has no relevance to your predicament with McKenna.”

A more accurate word could not have been chosen. It was not a difficulty, or a problem, or even a dilemma. It was indeed a predicament.

Morosely Aline swirled her hands in the water, while Mrs. Faircloth came to pour some herb-infused oil into the bath. “I’ve behaved like a greedy child,” Aline said ruefully. “I reached out for what I wanted without giving a thought to the consequences.”

“McKenna’s behavior has been no better.” The housekeeper retreated to the chair near the fire. “Now you’ve both gotten what you wanted, and it seems that you’re both the worse off for it.”

“The worst is yet to come,” Aline said. “Now I’ve got to drive him away without ever explaining why.” She paused, rubbed her wet hands over her face, and added bleakly, “Again.”

“It needn’t be that way,” Mrs. Faircloth countered.

“Are you suggesting that I tell him the truth? You know what his reaction would be.”

“You can never know someone else’s heart completely, my lady. Why, I’ve known you since the day you were born, and yet you still have the ability to surprise me.”

“What I did with McKenna tonight…did that surprise you?”

“No.” For some reason the promptness of Mrs. Faircloth’s reply caused them both to laugh.

Leaning her head against the rim of the tub, Aline flexed her knees, willing the heat of the bath to soften her scars. “Has my sister returned from the fair yet?”

“Yes, she came back in the company of Mr. Shaw and the Chamberlains, at least three hours ago.”

“How was she? Did she seem happy?”

“Rather too much so.”

Aline smiled faintly. “Is it possible for someone to be too happy?”

The housekeeper frowned. “I only hope that Lady Livia understands what kind of gentleman Mr. Shaw is. No doubt he has dallied with a hundred women before her, and will continue doing so long after he’s left Stony Cross.”

The words caused Aline’s smile to fade. “I will talk to her tomorrow, and perhaps together we can settle our heads.”

“That’s not what needs settling,” Mrs. Faircloth said, and Aline made a face at her.

Fourteen

To Livia’s disappointment, Gideon Shaw did not surface at all the next day. His absence at breakfast and lunch were not remarked on by any of the American entourage, who seemed to take Shaw’s disappearance as a matter of course. After bidding Mrs. Faircloth to make discreet inquiries as to his whereabouts, Livia learned that Shaw had simply closed himself away in the bachelor’s house and left word that he was not to be bothered for any reason. “Is he ill?” Livia asked, imagining him helpless and feverish in a sickbed. “Should he be left alone at such a time?”

“Ill with liquor, one would surmise,” Mrs. Faircloth said in disapproval. “In which case, Mr. Shaw should most definitely be left alone. There are few sights more unpleasant than that of a gentleman in his cups.”

“What reason would he have to do this?” Livia fretted, standing at the huge oak worktable in the kitchen, where the maids had just finished rolling out and cutting pastry dough. She used her fingertip to make a pattern in the heavy dusting of flour, leaving a succession of tight little circles. “What could have set him off? He seemed perfectly fine last evening.”

Mrs. Faircloth waited to reply until the maids had taken the rounds of pastry to the next room. “Drunkards need nothing in particular to set them off.”

Livia disliked the images that the word conjured, of nasty, sloppy, ridiculous men who said disagreeable things and tripped over invisible furniture, and ended up florid and fat. Although it was well known that practically all men drank to excess now and then, one wasn’t considered a drunkard until it became obvious that his thirst was perpetual, and that he had no ability to hold his liquor. Livia had known very few such men. In fact, she had never seen Marcus intoxicated, as he had always maintained a rigorous grip on his self-control.

“Shaw isn’t a drunkard,” Livia countered in a half whisper, mindful of the servants’ sharp ears. “He’s only, well…” Pausing, she furrowed her forehead until it resembled a window shutter. “You’re right, he’s a drunkard,” she admitted. “How I wish that he were not! If only someone or something might inspire him to change…”

“That kind of man does not change,” Mrs. Faircloth murmured with dismaying certainty.

Livia stepped back from the table as one of the maids came to clean it with a damp cloth. She dusted the traces of flour from her hands and folded her arms across her chest. “Someone should go and make certain that he is all right.”

The housekeeper regarded her with disapproval. “If I were you, my lady, I should leave the matter alone.”

Livia knew that Mrs. Faircloth was right, as always. However, as the minutes and hours crawled by, and suppertime approached, she went in search of Aline. Who, now that Livia thought of it, had seemed rather distracted today. For the first time all day, Livia tore herself away from her absorption with Gideon Shaw long enough to wonder how her sister was faring with McKenna. Livia had seen the two of them walking together at the fair, and of course she had heard about the “Rose of Tralee” serenade. She had found it interesting that McKenna, whom she had thought of as very private and self-contained, would have resorted to making a public demonstration of his interest in Aline.