Again the Magic by Lisa Kleypas Read Free Book Online Page A

and you’ve behaved yourself as well as a boy your age is able.” She frowned contemplatively. “Perhaps the master wishes to commend you, or send you about some special task.”
    However, they both knew that was unlikely. The earl would never summon a lower servant for such a reason. It was the butler’s province to offer praise or discipline, or hand down new responsibilities. “Go put on your livery,” Mrs. Faircoth bade him. “You can’t appear before the master in your ordinary garb. And be quick about it — he won’t want to be kept waiting.”
    “Hell,” McKenna muttered, cringing at the idea of dressing in the hated livery.
    Pretending to scowl, the housekeeper raised a wooden spoon threateningly. “Another blasphemous word in my presence, and I’ll rap your knuckles.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” McKenna lowered his head and attempted a meek expression, which made her laugh.
    She patted his cheek with her warm, plump hand. Her eyes were soft pools of brown as she smiled. “Be off with you, and after you’ve seen the earl, I’ll have some fresh bread and jam waiting for you.”
    As McKenna left to comply, his smile vanished, and he let out a long, taut sigh. Nothing good would come of the earl’s request. The only possible reason for the summons was his relationship with Aline. A slightly nauseous feeling came over him. McKenna feared nothing except the possibility of being sent away from her. The thought of days, weeks, months passing without being able to see her was unfathomable… like being told that he must try to live under water. He was overwhelmed with the need to find her,
now,
but there was no time. One did not tarry when the earl had sent for him.
    Dressing quickly in the livery of gold-braided velvet, pinching black shoes, and white stockings, McKenna went to the study where Lord Westcliff waited. The house seemed peculiarly quiet, filled with the hush that occurred before an execution took place. Using two knuckles as Salter had taught him, McKenna gave the door a cautious rap.
    “Enter,” came the master’s voice.
    McKenna’s heart pounded so hard that he felt light-headed. Making his face expressionless, he entered the room and waited just inside the door. The room was stark and simple, paneled in gleaming cherrywood and lined on one side with long, rectangular, stained-glass windows. It was furnished sparsely, with bookshelves, hard-seated chairs, and a large desk where Lord Westcliff sat.
    Obeying the earl’s brief gesture, McKenna ventured into the room and stopped before the desk. “My lord,” he said humbly, waiting for the ax to fall.
    The earl regarded him with a narrow-eyed stare. “I’ve been considering what is to be done with you.”
    “Sir?” McKenna questioned, his stomach dropping with sickening abruptness. He glanced into Westcliff’s hard eyes and then looked away instinctively. No servant ever dared to hold the master’s gaze. It was an untenable sign of insolence.
    “Your service is no longer required at Stony Cross Park.” The earl’s voice was a quiet lash of sound. “You will be dismissed forthwith. I have undertaken to secure another situation for you.”
    McKenna nodded dumbly.
    “I am acquainted with a shipbuilder in Bristol,” Westcliff continued, “a Mr. Ilbery, who has condescended to hire you as an apprentice. I know him to be an honorable man, and I expect that he will be a fair, if demanding, taskmaster…”
    Westcliff said something else, but McKenna only half heard him. Bristol… he knew nothing about it, save that it was a major trading port, and that it was hilly and rich with coal and metal. At least it was not too far away — it was in a neighboring county—
    “You will have no opportunity to return to Stony Cross,” the earl said, recapturing his attention. “You are no longer welcome here, for reasons that I have no wish to discuss. And if you do attempt to return, you will regret it bitterly.”
    McKenna understood what he was