Again the Magic (35 page)

Staring along the row of warehouses to the other end of the quay, Aline saw a massive wooden paddle steamer, easily over two hundred feet in length. “Is that the
Britannia?”

Marcus nodded. “I’ll go find a clerk to fetch McKenna from the ship.”

Aline closed her eyes tightly, trying to picture McKenna’s face as he received the news. In his current disposition, he wasn’t likely to take it well. “Perhaps I should go aboard,” she suggested.

“No,” came her brother’s immediate reply. “They’re going to weigh anchor soon — I’m not going to take the chance of having you sail off across the Atlantic as an accidental passenger.”

“I’ll cause McKenna to miss his departure,” she said. “And then he’ll kill me.”

Marcus gave an impatient snort. “The ship is likely to launch while I stand here arguing with you. Do you want to talk to McKenna or not?”

“Yes!”

“Then stay in the carriage. Peter and the driver will look after you. I’ll be back soon.”

“He may refuse to disembark,” she said. “I hurt him very badly, Marcus.”

“He’ll come,” her brother replied with calm conviction. “One way or another.”

A hesitant smile worked its way past Aline’s distress as she watched Marcus stride away, prepared to do physical battle, if necessary, with an adversary who was nearly a head taller than he.

Settling back in the carriage, Aline pushed the curtain open and stared through the window, watching a marine policeman wander back and forth past rows of valuable sugar hogsheads piled six and eight high. As she waited, it occurred to her that she must look as if she had been pulled backward through a hedge, with her clothes rumpled and her hair a disheveled mess. She wasn’t even wearing proper shoes. Hardly the image of a fine lady visiting town, she thought ruefully, regarding her toes as she wiggled them inside the knit slippers.

Minutes passed, and it became warm and stuffy in the carriage. Deciding that the smell of the docks was better than the prospect of sitting in an enclosed vehicle with no breeze, Aline began to rap on the door to summon Peter. Just as her knuckles touched the paneling, the door was wrenched open with a violence that startled her. She froze, her hand stopped in mid-motion. McKenna appeared in the doorway of the carriage, his shoulders blocking the sunlight.

He reached out to grip her arm as if he were saving her from an unexpected fall. The urgent clamp of his fingers hurt. Wincing, Aline reflected that McKenna seemed like an utter stranger. She found it impossible to believe that this harsh-featured man had held and kissed her so tenderly. “What is the matter?” he demanded, his voice grating. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“What?” She stared at him in utter bewilderment. “Why would I need a doctor?”

McKenna’s eyes narrowed, and his hand dropped from her abruptly. “You’re not ill?”

“No… why would you think I…” As comprehension dawned, Aline glared at her brother, who stood just beyond him. “Marcus! You shouldn’t have told him that!”

“He wouldn’t have come otherwise,” Marcus said without a trace of remorse.

Aline gave him a damning glance. As if matters hadn’t been difficult enough, Marcus had now succeeded in making McKenna even more hostile. Unrepentant, Marcus stepped back from the carriage to allow the two of them a marginal amount of privacy.

“I’m sorry,” Aline said to McKenna. “My brother misled you — I’m not ill. The reason I am here is that I desperately need to talk to you.”

McKenna regarded her stonily. “There’s nothing left to be said.”

“There is,” she insisted. “You told me the day before yesterday that you were going to talk to me honestly, or you would regret it for the rest of your life. I should have done the same, and I am so sorry that I didn’t. But I’ve traveled all night to reach you before you left England. I am asking — no, begging you to give me a chance to explain my behavior.”

He shook his head. “They’re about to pull the gangway. If I don’t reboard within five minutes, I’m going to be separated from all my trunks and personal papers — everything but the clothes on my back.”

Aline gnawed at the insides of her cheeks, trying to contain her rising desperation. “Then I’ll come aboard with you.”

“And sail across the Atlantic without so much as a toothbrush?” he jeered.

“Yes.”

McKenna gave her a long, hard stare. He gave no indication of what he was feeling, or even if he was considering her plea. Wondering if he was going to refuse her, Aline cast about recklessly for the right words, the key to unlock his frozen self-control… and then she noticed the vein throbbing violently at his temple. Hope unfurled inside her. He wasn’t indifferent to her, no matter that he tried to pretend otherwise.

Perhaps the only salve to McKenna’s battered pride was the sacrifice of her own. Reluctantly letting her guard down, she spoke more humbly than she ever had in her life. “Please. If you still feel anything at all for me, don’t go back on that ship. I swear that I will never ask anything else of you. Please let me tell you the truth, McKenna.”

As another untenable silence spun out, McKenna’s jaw tightened until a muscle in his cheek twitched. “Damn you,” he said softly.

Aline realized with dizzying relief that he was not going to refuse her. “Shall we go to Marsden Terrace?” she dared to whisper.

“No — I’ll be damned if I’ll have your brother hovering over us. He can go to Marsden Terrace, while you and I talk in Shaw’s rooms at the Rutledge.”

Aline was afraid to say another word, on the chance that she might cause him to change his mind. She nodded and settled back in the carriage, while her heart slammed repeatedly against her ribs.

McKenna gave instructions to the driver and then climbed into the vehicle. He was immediately followed by Marcus, who did not seem terribly pleased by the plan, as he wanted the situation to remain under his immediate control. Nevertheless, he offered no protest, only sat beside Aline and folded his arms across his chest.

The silence was thick and heavy as the vehicle rolled away from the docks. Aline was wretchedly uncomfortable, her legs stiff and itching, her emotions in turmoil, her head aching. It didn’t help that McKenna looked about as warm and understanding as a block of granite. Aline wasn’t even certain about what she would say to him, how she could tell him the truth without engendering his pity or disgust.

As if sensing her worry, Marcus reached down and took her fingers in his, giving them a small, encouraging squeeze. Looking up, Aline saw that McKenna had noticed the subtle gesture. His suspicious gaze flickered from Marcus’s face to hers. “You may as well start explaining now,” he said.

Aline gave him an apologetic glance. “I would rather wait, if you don’t mind.”

“Fine,” McKenna said derisively. “It’s not as if I don’t have the time.”

Marcus stiffened at the other man’s tone. “Look here, McKenna—”

“It’s all right,” Aline interrupted, digging her elbow into her brother’s side. “You’ve helped quite enough, Marcus. I can manage on my own now.”

Her brother frowned. “Be that as it may, I don’t approve of you going to a hotel with no family member or servant to accompany you. There will be gossip, and you don’t—”

“Gossip is the least of my worries,” Aline interrupted, increasing the pressure of her elbow against his ribs, until Marcus grunted and fell silent.

After what seemed to be hours, they reached the Rutledge Hotel. The carriage stopped in the small street behind one of the four private accommodations. Aline was in an agony of anticipation as McKenna descended from the carriage and helped her down. Turning, she glanced back at Marcus. Seeing the raw helplessness in her eyes, Marcus gave her a reassuring nod, just before he spoke to McKenna in a hard voice.

“Wait. I want a word with you.”

Arching one black brow, McKenna stepped aside with him. He met the earl’s gaze with a look of icy inquiry. “What now?”

Marcus turned his back on Aline, and spoke too quietly for her to overhear. “I hope to hell that I haven’t underestimated you, McKenna. Whatever comes of your conversation with my sister, I want to assure you of one thing — if you harm her in any way, you’ll pay with your life. And I mean that literally.”

Aggravated beyond bearing, McKenna shook his head and muttered some choice words beneath his breath. He strode to Aline and guided her forcibly to the back entrance, where the footman had already rapped at the door. Gideon Shaw’s valet appeared at the doorway with an expression of open astonishment. “Mr. McKenna,” he exclaimed, “I would have thought your ship had sailed by now—”

“It has,” McKenna said curtly.

The valet blinked and strove to regain composure. “If you are searching for Mr. Shaw, sir, he is at the company offices—”

“I want the use of his rooms for a few minutes,” McKenna said. “See that we’re not disturbed.”

With an admirable display of tact, the valet did not even glance in Aline’s direction. “Yes, sir.”

Brusquely McKenna ushered Aline into the residence, which was handsomely furnished in dark woods, the walls covered in rich plum-colored embossed paper. They went to the sitting room, with the bedroom visible just beyond. Heavy velvet drapes had been pulled back to reveal curtains of tea-dyed lace that softened the sunlight as it streamed into the room.

Aline could not control her nervousness. It erupted in a violent trembling that made her teeth click. Clenching her jaw, she went to sit in a large leather chair. After a long pause, McKenna did the same, settling back in a nearby chair and regarding her coldly. An antique French carriage clock ticked busily on the mantel, underscoring the tension that fractured the air.

Aline’s mind went blank. In the carriage she had managed to think of a fairly well-structured explanation, but all her carefully considered phrases had suddenly vanished. Nervously she dampened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

McKenna’s gaze flickered to her mouth, and his dark brows drew together. “Get on with it, will you?”

Aline inhaled and exhaled slowly, and rubbed her forehead. “Yes. I’m sorry. I’m just not quite certain how to begin. I’m glad of the chance to finally tell you the truth, except… this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Looking away from him into the empty hearth, Aline gripped the upholstered arms of the chair. “I must be a better actress than I thought, if I’ve managed to convince you that your social standing matters to me. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve never cared one whit about the circumstances of your birth… where you came from, or who you are… you could be a rag man, and it wouldn’t matter to me. I would do anything, go anywhere, to be with you.” Her nails dug deep crescents into the worn leather. She closed her eyes. “I love you, McKenna. I’ve always loved you.”

There was no sound in the room, only the crisp tick of the mantel clock. As Aline continued, she had an odd sense of listening to herself as if from a distance. “My relationship with Lord Sandridge is not what it appears. Any appearance of romantic interest between the two of us is a deception — one that has served both Lord Sandridge and myself. He does not desire me physically, and he could never entertain that kind of feeling for me because he…” She paused awkwardly. “His inclinations are limited exclusively toward other men. He proposed marriage to me as a practical arrangement — a union between friends. I won’t say that I didn’t find the offer attractive, but I turned him down just before you returned from London.”

Opening her eyes, Aline stared down at her lap, while the blessed feeling of numbness left her. She felt raw and exposed and terrified. This was the hardest part, making herself vulnerable to a man who had the power to demolish her with a single word. A man who was justifiably furious at the way she had treated him. “The illness that I had so long ago…” she said raspily, “…you were right to suspect that I was lying about that. It wasn’t a fever. I was injured in a fire — I was burned quite badly. I was in the kitchen with Mrs. Faircloth, when a pan of oil started a fire in the basket grate on the stove. I don’t remember anything else. I was told that my clothes caught fire, and I was instantly covered in flames. I tried to run… a footman knocked me to the ground and beat out the flames. He saved my life. You may remember him — William — I think he was second footman when you were still at Stony Cross.” She paused to take a long breath. Her trembling had eased a little, and she was finally able to steady her voice. “My legs were completely charred.”

Risking a glance at McKenna, she saw that he was no longer leaning back in his chair. His body was canted slightly forward, his large frame overloaded with sudden tension, his eyes a blaze of blue-green in his skull-white face.

Aline averted her gaze once more. If she looked at him, she wouldn’t be able to finish. “I was in a nightmare that I couldn’t awaken from,” she said. “When I wasn’t in agony from the burns, I was out of my head with morphine. The wounds festered and poisoned my blood, and the doctor said that I wouldn’t last a week. But Mrs. Faircloth found a woman who was said to have special healing abilities. I didn’t want to get better. I wanted to die. Then Mrs. Faircloth showed me the letter…” Remembering, she trailed into silence. That moment had been permanently engraved in her mind, when a few scrawled words on paper had eased her away from the brink of death.

“What letter?” she heard McKenna ask in a suffocated voice.

“The one you had sent to her… asking for money, because you needed to break your apprenticeship and flee from Mr. Ilbery. Mrs. Faircloth read the letter to me… and hearing the words you had written made me realize… that as long as there was a chance that you were in this world, I wanted to go on living in it.” Aline stopped suddenly as her eyes blurred, and she blinked furiously to clear them.

McKenna made a hoarse sound. He came to the chair and sank to his haunches before her, breathing as if someone had delivered a crushing blow to the center of his chest.

“I never thought you’d come back,” Aline said. “I never wanted you to find out about my accident. But when you returned to Stony Cross, I decided that being close to you — even for one night — was worth any risk. That is why I…” She hesitated, blushing wildly. “The night of the village fair…”