Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(68)

Livia stared at him blankly, too filled with desire to think clearly. Her breast tingled and throbbed. “I wouldn’t feel insulted. You weren’t doing badly at all, actually—”

“And on the floor, no less,” he muttered. “My God. Forgive me, Livia. You don’t deserve to be treated this way.”

“You’re forgiven,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t at all uncomfortable. I like this carpet. So let’s just go back to—”

But her companion had already risen to his feet. Livia was later to learn that Gideon had a genuine horror of being ungentlemanly. Finding a robe, he jerked it over himself and tied it at his waist. He returned to Livia and pulled her up from the floor. “I am sorry,” he said as he straightened her clothes and clumsily refastened her gown.

“It’s all right, really—”

“You have to leave, Livia. Now, before I have you on your back again.”

Only pride kept her from telling him how very amenable she was to the idea, when he was obviously so determined to get rid of her. Sighing in defeat, she allowed him to push and prod her from the bedroom.

“I sent your valet for sandwiches,” she said, preceding him along the hallway.

“Did you?”

“Yes, and I expect you to eat them, and there will be no more brandy for you tonight.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Livia made her voice as stern as possible. “You will eat, however, as it is part of your penance for trying to ravish me on the floor—”

“All right,” Gideon said hastily. “I’ll eat.”

Biting back a smile, Livia allowed him to open the door for her, and she crossed the threshold. Only when the door closed behind her did she let out a shaky sigh and finish her sentence. “…And how I wish you had finished!”

Fifteen

It would have been an exaggeration to claim that Gideon was completely sober when McKenna loaded him into the carriage the next day. However, he was at least clean and shaven, his face pale beneath the gleaming cap of expertly clipped blond hair. They were bound for the Rutledge, a London hotel comprising four luxurious homes that were let to well-to-do gentlemen or families from abroad. McKenna hoped that the investment negotiations would keep him so busy that he would stop thinking about Aline. At least for a few minutes at a time.

Afaint groan came from Gideon’s side of the carriage. Wreathed in a queasiness that was nearly palpable, Gideon had said virtually nothing so far that morning. “Goddamn,” Gideon said in bleary realization, “I’m riding backward. Change seats with me, will you?”

Recalling Gideon’s aversion to facing the rear of the carriage while traveling, McKenna complied. When they had both settled, Gideon propped one foot on the opposite cushion, heedless of the fine velvet upholstery. “What are you brooding about?” He braced his head on his hand as if to prevent it from toppling off his shoulders. “Haven’t you managed to tumble Lady Aline yet?”

McKenna gave him a narrow-eyed stare.

Gideon sighed and rubbed his aching temples. “I’ll say this—there is something about those Marsden women and their aristocratic little notches that is impossible to resist.”

The remark so perfectly expressed McKenna’s own sentiments that he smiled grimly. “You’ve taken an interest in Livia, it seems.”

“Yes,” came the none-too-happy reply. “An interest that has earned me the worst case of blue balls I’ve had in years.”

McKenna was perturbed by the realization that his friend was strongly attracted to Aline’s sister. It seemed an inappropriate match in every regard. “Aren’t you too old for her?”

Fumbling for the ever-dependable silver flask, Gideon registered extreme annoyance at the realization that he’d forgotten to fill it. Tossing the empty container to the floor, he glared at it blearily. “I’m too everything for her. Too old, too damned jaded, too thirsty…the list is endless.”

“You’d better take care, or Westcliff will slaughter and dress you like a yuletide goose.”

“If he’ll do it quickly, he has my blessing,” Gideon replied morosely. “Damn you, McKenna, I wish I hadn’t let you talk me into visiting Stony Cross. We should have gone directly to London, conducted our business, and returned to New York as soon as possible.”

“You didn’t have to come with me,” McKenna pointed out.

“I had some misguided notion of keeping you out of trouble. And I wanted to see what kind of woman could turn you into such a mooncalf.”

Stewing, McKenna gazed out the window, watching the quiet green countryside that rolled beside them. Only Lady Aline Marsden, he thought balefully. A woman of such discriminating taste that she had remained unwed rather than accept a suitor who was below her standards.

“I want to take her back to New York with me,” he said.

Gideon was silent for a long time. “Has Lady Aline indicated that she might consider such a proposition?”

“No. In fact, she’s made it clear that anything other than a five-minute hump in the closet is out of the question. Because I’m not of her class.”

Gideon did not seem at all surprised. “Naturally. You’re a professional man in a culture that values indolence and has contempt for ambition.”