Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(62)

It was likely that no one had been surprised, however, as it was clear that Aline and McKenna belonged together. There was something invisible and yet irrefutable that made them a couple. Perhaps it was the way both of them stole quick glances at each other when one thought the other wasn’t looking…glances of wonder and hunger. Or the way McKenna’s voice changed subtly when he spoke to Aline, his tone deepening, softening. No matter how circumspectly they behaved, anyone could tell that Aline and McKenna were drawn together by a force more powerful than either of them. They seemed to want to breathe the same air. Their need for each other was painfully obvious. And Livia was convinced that McKenna worshipped her sister. Perhaps it was wrong, but Livia couldn’t help but wish that Aline could find the courage to trust McKenna with the truth about her accident.

Absorbed in her thoughts, Livia managed to find Aline in Marcus’s private study, the one their father had always used. Like their father, it was all hard angles. The walls were covered with polished rosewood paneling, ornamented only by a row of rectangular stained-glass windows. Although Aline often visited Marcus there to discuss household matters, they appeared to be discussing something far more personal at the moment. They seemed to be arguing, actually.

“…don’t see why you should have taken it upon yourself…” Aline was saying sharply, just as Livia entered the room with a cursory knock at the door.

Neither sibling looked particularly thrilled to see her. “What do you want?” Marcus growled.

Unruffled by his rudeness, Livia focused her attention on her sister. “I wanted to talk with you before supper, Aline. It’s about…well, I’ll tell you later.” Pausing, she regarded them both with raised brows. “What are you arguing about?”

“I’ll let Marcus explain,” Aline said shortly. She sat on the corner of the large desk, leaning back to brace her hand on the glossy oiled surface.

Livia stared suspiciously at Marcus. “What has happened? What have you done?”

“The right thing,” he said.

Aline gave a scornful huff.

“What do you mean?” Livia asked. “Marcus, must we play twenty questions, or will you just tell me?”

Marcus went to stand by the empty hearth. Had he been a tall man, he might have been able to rest his elbow on the mantel in a nicely casual pose. As it was, he got nearly the same effect by leaning his broad shoulders back against it. “I merely took it upon myself to send word to a few of Shaw’s potential investors—all of whom are acquaintances of mine—to be cautious about investing in the Shaw foundries. I informed them of some potential problems in the deal that Shaw and McKenna have proposed. I warned them that in the Americans’ drive to expand their business, we have no guarantee against falling production quality, debasement of design, defective service, even fraud—”

“That is nonsense,” Aline interrupted. “You are just playing on the typical Englishman’s fear of large-scale production. You have no evidence that it will be a problem for the Shaw foundries.”

“I have no proof that they won’t,” Marcus said.

Folding her arms across her chest, Aline gave him a challenging glance. “I predict that your efforts will come to nothing, Marcus—Shaw and McKenna will prove themselves more than capable of settling any concerns their investors might have.”

“That remains to be seen. I also put a few words in Lord Elham’s ear—he sits on the board of the Somerset Shipping Company—and now he’s going to think twice about selling his docking rights to Shaw. And those rights are an essential part of Shaw’s plans.”

Livia followed the conversation with complete bewilderment, understanding only that her brother had deliberately undertaken to make Shaw’s and McKenna’s forthcoming business negotiations difficult. “Why would you do that?” she asked.

“Simple,” Aline said, before Marcus could reply. “By throwing obstacles in Mr. Shaw’s path, Marcus has ensured that he—and McKenna—will have to go to London at once, to deal with all the mischief he has wrought.”

Livia stared at her brother with dawning fury. “How could you do that?”

“Because I intend to keep those two bastards as far away from my sisters as I can,” Marcus said. “I’ve acted in your best interests—both of you—and someday you’ll see the wisdom in what I’ve done.”

Livia glanced wildly around the room, searching for something to throw at him. “You are just like our father, you self-important, interfering clod!”

“At this very moment,” Marcus told her grimly, “Shaw is drowning himself in a bottle of something-or-other, after spending all day holed up in a dark room. What a fine character for you to associate with, Livia. How happy Amberley would be.”

Livia turned white at his sarcasm. Incoherent with hurt and anger, she strode from the room, not bothering to close the door.

Aline stared at her brother with narrowed eyes. “That was going too far,” she warned gently. “Don’t ever forget, Marcus, that some things can never be taken back once they are said.”

“Livia would do well to remember the same,” he retorted. “You heard what she just said.”

“Yes, that you are just like Father. And you disagree?”

“Categorically.”