Once Upon an Irritatingly Magical Kiss by Bree Wolf

Chapter Ten

Repercussions

Angry footsteps echoed along the corridor, and Thorne put down his quill and looked toward the door. A moment later, it burst open and in sailed Lord Hartmore, closely followed by Thorne’s rather indignant-looking butler. “Sir, I’m terribly sorry, but—”

“How dare you treat my daughter this way?” Lord Hartmore roared, his face turning a dark red as he stormed toward Thorne’s desk. His hands had balled into fists, and he waved them around as though wishing to land a punch. “I ought to challenge you right here and now!”

Slowly, Thorne rose to his feet, familiar with the likes of Lord Hartmore. Men who ranted and roared, put up an aggressive front, but ultimately lacked the courage or determination to back it with deeds. “Then do so,” Thorne challenged the other man, his gaze steady as he stared across the small expanse of his desk between them.

Clearly taken aback, Lord Hartmore clamped his lips shut. His eyes narrowed in distaste, and his face darkened considerably. Still, he did no more than huff out an indignant breath before saying, “I demand an explanation. What happened last night at Lord Pemberton’s wedding reception?” His gaze narrowed even farther, and he looked at Thorne as though he were an insect Lord Hartmore wished to squash beneath his boot.

Thorne squared his shoulders. “I’m afraid I cannot share any details with you, my lord; however, it seemed that a misunderstanding occurred.” He chuckled, deviously delighted to see the other man squirm before him. He knew better than anyone that Lord Hartmore considered himself superior to others; nonetheless, right now, here he stood, furious to have been robbed of an advantageous match for his daughter. For himself. After all, his gambling debts were staggering.

The older man’s jaw ground together, his muscles tensing violently. “A misunderstanding?” he demanded, outrage in his voice. “We had a deal! Have you no honor?”

Thorne chuckled. “Do you?” Keeping his gaze fixed on Lord Hartmore’s, he slowly rounded the desk, noting the way the other man seemed to shrink back, unease coming to his bloodshot eyes. “You gamble away your family’s fortunes, risk their welfare and happiness, rob them of everything and then demand your daughter sacrifice her own future in order to save her family. To save you! Where is the honor in that?”

For a moment, it seemed Lord Hartmore would expire on the spot. His face turned a shade of dark violet and his eyes almost bulged from his head as he stared at Thorne in outrage.

“I apologize if I’ve caused your daughter any unease,” Thorne continued, suspecting that Miss Mortensen had been relieved to find that she was no longer to be his future bride. After all, whenever her eyes had fallen on him, her face had paled, and she had quickly turned away as though unable to bear the mere sight of him. Clearly, he had frightened her or at least something about their impending union had. Who knew what her parents had told her about him? Or what she might have overheard from others? After all, as far as society was concerned, he was not considered worthy to be among them.

“She’ll be ruined now,” Lord Hartmore snarled, his fists once more gesturing wildly as though by waving them fast enough he might be able to rewind time and set things right. “How dare you jilt her? Have you no decency? No gentleman will want her now!”

“I did not jilt her,” Thorne insisted, unable to curb that small stab of guilt he felt when thinking of Miss Mortensen. Yes, she had been the victim in all of this, and perhaps he should have been more cautious to spare her such humiliation. “We had not yet reached an understanding. Neither had I proposed to your daughter. Indeed, it was you who was presumptuous by circulating rumors of our impending nuptials. Had you been more discreet, none of this would’ve happened! No one would ever have known.” He gave Lord Hartmore a pointed look.

The man’s fists shook as he stared at Thorne, dumbfounded to have someone he deemed inferior speak to him in such a way. After all, Lord Hartmore seemed to be of the opinion that none of his troubles were his fault. Therefore, he had never even stopped to consider laying blame at his own feet. In Thorne’s humble opinion, that was precisely what had caused all this trouble. If the man had had any sense of responsibility, he would not have gambled away his family’s fortunes and future in the first place.

“I thank you for your visit,” Thorne said icily. “However, since I am on my way out myself, I must politely ask you to leave.” His brows rose into arches as he gestured toward the door.

A huffed breath left Lord Hartmore’s lips before he spun around, mumbled something unintelligible, but, no doubt insulting, under his breath, and then stormed from the room, his footsteps thundering down the corridor.

Thorne allowed a small smile to cross his face at seeing a member of the ton thus humiliated. Of course, it was petty and spiteful, yet after a lifetime of being looked down upon and treated with no respect at all, Thorne could not help it. In fact, in his opinion, Lord Hartmore deserved far worse for what he had done…for what he would no doubt continue to do to his family. If only there was something Thorne could do to protect Miss Mortensen from her father’s next scheme. Who knew, what solution Lord Hartmore would concoct next?

Striding from his study, Thorne donned his hat and then proceeded out of the house and down to the pavement in front of the townhouse, which he had let for the duration of his stay in London. The air was warm and soothing, a mild breeze stirring the leaves of the trees lining the street. He moved at a leisurely pace, his thoughts turning from Lord Hartmore’s visit to the woman he was to marry.

He smiled, a part of him still wondering if he had merely dreamed her acceptance. In fact, he had expected her to fight him tooth and nail. Nonetheless, it would be foolish of him to think that she had agreed to become his wife because she cared for him. Of course, Thorne knew that Lady Christina had only agreed to marry him in order to protect her friend, to protect Miss Mortensen.

Her devotion to her friend was something that made Thorne hold her in even higher regard. Yes, she had her faults and follies, but deep down, she was a deeply compassionate and loyal woman, willing to sacrifice her own happiness in order to protect someone she cared about. Thorne could only hope that in the end happiness would still find them both.

Thinking of her, Thorne’s steps quickened, and a smile came to his face the moment his gaze fell upon her family’s townhouse. Indeed, he was looking forward to seeing her.

A lot more than he would have expected.