Free Again the Magic by Lisa Kleypas Page B

wondered why Aline had not yet appeared to greet the guests. No doubt she was busy adjusting plans to compensate for the party’s early arrival. “Will you take some coffee?”
    “Yes, please.” Lowering his rangy form into the chair beside the desk, Shaw sat with his legs slightly spread.
    “Cream or sugar?”
    “Just sugar, please.” As Shaw received his cup and saucer, Marcus noticed a distinct trembling of his hands, causing the china to rattle. They were the unmistakable tremors of a man who had not yet recovered from a previous night’s drinking.
    Without missing a beat, Shaw set the cup on the desk, withdrew a silver flask from the inside of his well-tailored coat, and poured a liberal quantity of spirits into the coffee. He drank from the cup without benefit of the saucer, closing his eyes as the hot alcohol-infused liquid poured down his throat. After downing the coffee, he extended the cup without comment, and Marcus obligingly refilled it. Again the ritual of the flask was performed.
    “Your business partner is welcome to join us,” Marcus said politely.
    Settling back in his chair, Shaw drank the second cup of coffee more slowly than the first. “Thank you, but I believe that at the moment, he is busy giving instructions to our servants.” An ironic smile touched his lips. “McKenna has an aversion to sitting down in the middle of the day. He is in constant motion.”
    Having taken his own seat behind the desk, Marcus paused in the act of lifting a cup to his own lips. “McKenna,” he repeated quietly. It was a common name. Even so, it sounded a note of warning inside him.
    Shaw smiled slightly. “They call him ‘King’ McKenna in Manhattan. It’s entirely because of his efforts that the Shaw foundries have begun to produce locomotive engines instead of agricultural machinery.”
    “That is seen by some as an unnecessary risk,” Marcus commented. “You are already doing quite well with the production of agricultural machines… the mowers and grain drills, in particular. Why venture into locomotive manufacturing? The principal railway companies already build their own engines — and from all appearances, they supply their own needs quite efficiently.”
    “Not for long,” Shaw said easily. “We’re convinced that their production demands will soon exceed their capability — and they’ll be forced to rely on outside builders to make up the difference. Besides, America is different from England. There, most of the railways rely on privately owned locomotive works — such as mine — to provide their engines and parts. Competition is fierce, and it makes for a better, more aggressively priced product.”
    “I would be interested to learn why you believe that the railway-owned foundries in England won’t be able to maintain an acceptable pace of production.”
    “McKenna will provide all the figures you require.” Shaw assured him.
    “I look forward to meeting him.”
    “I believe you already have, my lord.” Shaw’s gaze did not stray from Marcus’s as he continued with studied casualness. “It seems that McKenna was once employed here at Stony Cross Park. You may not remember him, as he was a stable boy at the time.”
    Marcus showed no reaction to the statement, but inwardly he thought,
Oh, bloody hell!
This McKenna was indeed the same one whom Aline had loved so long ago. Marcus felt an immediate urgency to reach Aline. He had to prepare her somehow for the news that McKenna had returned. “Footboy,” he corrected softly. “As I recall, McKenna was made a house servant just before he left.”
    Shaw’s blue eyes were deceptively guileless. “I hope it will cause you no discomfort to receive a former servant as a guest.”
    “On the contrary, I admire McKenna’s achievements. And I will not hesitate to tell him so.” That was half the truth. The problem was, McKenna’s presence at Stony Cross would certainly cause Aline discomfort. If so, Marcus would have to find a