Again the Magic Read Free Page B

Even the pleasures of motherhood would be denied her. Servants would care for her children, and when they were older, they would be sent away to boarding school as Marcus had been.
    Decades of emptiness, Aline thought gloomily. And worst of all would be knowing that McKenna was out there somewhere, entrusting another woman with all his thoughts and dreams.
    “God, what am I to do?” Aline whispered in agitation, flinging herself onto her brocade-covered bed. She clutched a pillow in her arms and dug her chin into the downy plumpness of its surface, while reckless thoughts clattered through her mind. She couldn’t lose him. The thought made her shaky, filled her with wildness, made her want to scream.
    Flinging aside the pillow, Aline lay on her back and stared blindly into the dark folds of the overhead canopy. How could she keep McKenna in her life? She tried to imagine taking him as her lover after she was married. Her mother had affairs… many aristocratic ladies did, and as long as they were discreet, no one objected. But Aline knew that McKenna would never accept such an arrangement. Nothing was half measure for him — he would not consent to share her. A servant he might have been, but he had as much pride and possessiveness as any man on earth.
    Aline did not know what to do. It seemed the only choice was to steal every moment she could with him, until fate pulled them apart.
     
     
Two
     
    A fter his eighteenth birthday, McKenna had begun to change with astonishing speed. He grew so quickly that he made Mrs. Faircloth exclaim in fond exasperation that it was no use in letting his trousers out, as it would just have to be done again the next week. He was ravenously hungry all the time, but no amount of food served to satisfy either his appetite or fill out his lanky, big-boned frame.
    “The lad’s size bodes well for his future,” Mrs. Faircloth said proudly as she discussed McKenna with the butler, Salter. Their voices carried clearly from the stone-flagged hall to the second-floor balcony where Aline happened to be passing. Alert to any mention of McKenna, she stopped and listened intently.
    “Indisputably,” Salter said. “Nearly six feet tall already… I should say he’ll easily attain the proportions of a footman someday.”
    “Perhaps he should be brought in from the stables and begin an apprenticeship as a footboy,” Mrs. Faircloth suggested in a diffident tone that made Aline grin. She knew that behind Mrs. Faircloth’s casual manner was a keen desire to bring him up from the lowly position of stable boy to something more prestigious.
    “Heaven knows,” the housekeeper continued, “we could use another pair of hands to carry coal and clean the silverplate, and polish the looking glasses.”
    “Hmm.” There came a long pause. “I believe you’re right, Mrs. Faircloth. I shall recommend to the earl that McKenna be made a footboy. If he concurs, I will order a livery to be made.”
    Regardless of the increase in pay and the privilege of sleeping in the house, McKenna was somewhat less than grateful for his new status. He had enjoyed working with the horses and living in the relative privacy of the stables, and now he spent at least half his time in the manor wearing a conventional full dress livery of black plush breeches, a mustard-colored waistcoat, and a blue pigeon-tailed coat. More aggravating yet was the time every Sunday when he was required to accompany the family to church, open the pew for them, dust the bench, and set out their prayer books.
    Aline couldn’t help but be amused by the amicable teasing that McKenna had endured from the village boys and girls who waited outside the church. The sight of their friend clad in the detested livery was an irresistible opportunity for them to comment on the sight of his legs in white stockings. They speculated loudly on whether the bulge of his calves was truly made of muscle or perhaps the “falsies” that footmen sometimes used to