Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(79)

“He’s a good lover, then?” Aline asked with a smile, not above a little prurient curiosity.

“The most wonderful, the most exciting, the most…” Unable to think of the precise superlative she wanted, Livia sighed and sipped her wine. Regarding Aline over the delicate rim of the glass, she shook her head in wonder. “How strange it is that he could be so different from Amberley, and yet suit me just as well. Perhaps even better in some ways.”

“Are you going to marry him?” Aline asked with a queer pang in her chest, happy for her sister, and yet at the same time thinking how far away America was. And if she was being honest with herself, she would have to admit that an envious voice inside was demanding to know why she too couldn’t have what she most wanted.

“He proposed to me, actually,” Livia said. Then she astonished Aline further by adding bleakly, “I turned him down.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Aline nodded, her gaze locking with Livia’s as an entire silent conversation seemed to pass between them. Letting out a long breath, she looked down and traced the edge of her wineglass with her fingertip. “I’m certain that was the right decision, dear, though not an easy one to make.”

“No, it wasn’t.” They sat in silence for a minute, until Livia asked, “Aren’t you going to ask about McKenna?”

Aline stared into her glass. “How is he?”

“Quiet. Somewhat distracted. We…spoke of you.”

A clang of warning sounded in Aline’s mind as she heard the edge of guilt in Livia’s cautious admission. She looked up quickly, her face stiffening. “What do you mean, you spoke of me?”

Livia took a large swallow of wine. “It turned out quite well, actually,” she said guardedly. “At least, it didn’t turn out badly, although one can’t be certain how he reacted to—”

“Livia, out with it!” Aline demanded, turning cold with anxiety. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing very much.” Livia gave her a defensive glance. “I finally brought myself to apologize to him about what I did to both of you, so long ago. You know, when I told Father about—”

“Livia, you shouldn’t have,” Aline said, too furious and fearful to shout, her throat constricting to one thin channel. Her hands quivered so violently that her wine was in danger of spilling.

“There’s no reason to be upset,” Livia said, infuriating her further. “I didn’t break my promise to you—I said nothing about your accident, or the scars. I just told him about my part in the matter, and about how our father manipulated everyone, and…well, I did happen to mention that you sent him away to protect him, because Father had threatened to harm him—”

“What? I never wanted him to know that. My God, Livia, what have you done?”

“I only told him a little part of the truth.” It seemed that Livia was torn between defiance and repentance, her face flushing brightly. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. But as they say, honesty is the best policy, and in this case—”

“I’ve never said that!” Aline exploded. “That is the most overused, self-serving maxim in existence, and it is most definitely not the best policy in this situation. Oh, Livia, don’t you realize how difficult you’ve made everything for me? How infinitely harder it’s going to be to part from him again, now that he knows—” She broke off suddenly. “When did you tell him?”

“The second night I was in London.”

Aline closed her eyes sickly. The flowers had arrived two days after that. So that was why McKenna had sent the gifts, and the poem. “Livia, I could kill you,” she whispered.

Evidently deciding to go on the offensive, her younger sister spoke decisively. “I don’t see what is so terrible about removing one of the obstacles between you and McKenna. The only thing left to do now is for you to tell him about your legs.”

Aline responded with an icy glare. “That will never happen.”

“You have nothing to lose by telling him. You’ve always been the bravest person I’ve ever known until now, when you finally have a chance at happiness, and you’re throwing it away because you’re too stubborn and afraid—”

“I’ve never been brave,” Aline shot back. “Bravery isn’t tolerating something merely because there is no other choice. The only reason that I haven’t thrown myself to the ground and kicked my heels and screamed every day for the past twelve years is the knowledge that when I get up from the floor, nothing will have changed. My legs will always be repulsive. You can barely bring yourself to look at them—how dare you suggest that I’m being cowardly in not wanting to expose them to McKenna?” She left the bed and set her wineglass aside. “You’re a bloody hypocrite, Livia—you seem to expect that McKenna should accept me no matter what my flaws are, when you refuse to do the same for Mr. Shaw.”

“That’s not fair,” Livia protested indignantly. “The two situations are entirely different. Your scars aren’t remotely comparable to his drinking—and how dare you imply that I’m being small-minded in refusing him?”

Steaming with fury, Aline strode to the door. “Just leave me in peace. And don’t you dare say another word to McKenna about anything.” She barely restrained herself from slamming the door as she left.