Chapter Seven #2
‘Your Serene Highness, we thought it best to send her home. To avoid any more…unwelcome attentions towards you. I can only apologise for her outrageous behaviour. You must be relieved to know she is gone,’ said Lord Kesgrave.
The earl seemed to think a lot of his opinion on the matter, considering he’d not consulted Magnus at all in his decision.
Kesgrave clearly misconstrued his astonishment, because he added, ‘There is no need to thank us.’
‘I can guarantee you that I will not!’
The Duke of Beckton interrupted smoothly, ‘Sometimes a quiet exit is best for all involved, including the young lady.’
‘Nothing untoward happened. We knocked into each other, and it was an accident!’ barked Magnus, feeling as if he were a boy again, receiving a lashing from his father for a crime he did not fully understand.
Why was everyone acting as if Miss Mortimer had wickedly thrown herself at him like some Jezebel?
He could well imagine that a young woman might use such a moment to her advantage, but Miss Mortimer had been adamant about securing a match for her friend, not herself. A friend whose first words upon seeing her had been a cruel insult.
Even Magnus, who considered himself slow to understand the emotions of others, could not fail to notice the pain and humiliation that had swept over Miss Mortimer’s face at that moment.
He had never regretted his blind stubbornness more than he had then.
The embrace might have raised some eyebrows, but his torn clothing and her exposed bosom had been truly scandalous.
If only he’d taken Olav’s advice and seen to his formal wardrobe prior to leaving for England, none of this would have happened, and he wouldn’t have ruined an English miss or his own plans.
And there was another unwelcome truth that Magnus had had to ride for an hour to come to terms with: the fact that he could have set Miss Mortimer on her feet moments before and avoided them being caught in an embrace altogether.
But he hadn’t. If they’d been interrupted any later, he knew he would have been kissing Miss Mortimer thoroughly, seducing her in a way that would probably have shocked even Mr Chadwick.
Kesgrave gave a lascivious chuckle that made Magnus’s neck itch.
‘We have all tupped a ripe young miss at some point. There is no need to concern yourself about it. No gentleman would judge you for it. She’s a pretty young filly, that Miss Mortimer.
If I weren’t afraid her father would fire a cannon at me for it, I might have been inclined to a ravishment myself! ’
Beckton sniggered at the earl’s comment and took another sip from his brandy, despite it still being light outside.
Magnus was horrified. Not only by their words but his own behaviour. If he did nothing, how was he any better than the disgusting earl? Shamelessly laughing, when a young woman’s reputation lay in tatters at their feet. She had been their guest! They should have protected her, not cast her out!
Hans, who stood by the library doors, took a step forward. ‘Did you send her in a carriage, at least?’
‘Why would I waste several days’ use of a carriage for a silly young miss and her maid? The stagecoach can pick them up from the Bull’s Head,’ snapped Lord Kesgrave.
Hans looked as horrified as Magnus felt. ‘But…she was your guest. Does she have enough money to get her home?’
Beckton nodded, frowning at his brother’s concern as if it were a bad smell. ‘My duchess gave her five guineas—far more than necessary! Miss Mortimer could get a coach to Manchester and back for that!’
Magnus’s hands clenched into fists. But had he behaved any better than these men? He’d hesitated when he should have acted.
Honour Above All.
The motto of his ancient family rang through his head as loudly as a cathedral’s bell.
He could feel Hans’s eyes boring into the side of his head, quietly absorbing each word and gesture he made.
What kind of example was he setting now?
How could he preach about restraint and family duty to his younger brother, when he had so easily trampled over an innocent woman’s life?
There was no denying it. He was the one to blame! Because despite his protests of innocence, he had wanted to kiss and seduce Miss Mortimer. He had lost all sense of decency and reason in that moment. The needs of Thrudheim abandoned to a pair of sultry eyes.
If they had been alone, if no one had seen them, he would have broken all of his rules and ruined a young woman, who had little to protect her. Neither wealth nor status nor a family member present to defend her and call him out.
Was he going to allow a young woman to be dragged into obscurity simply because he should have ordered a new wardrobe and not allowed momentary lust to cloud his judgement?
‘When did she leave and in what direction?’ he demanded.
They all blinked at him like piglets in the butcher’s doorway. Hans folded his arms across his chest, in an unusual sign of solidarity, and glowered back at the two men.
‘A good hour ago, at least. She’s to meet the stagecoach for London, and then make her way to Great Yarmouth from there,’ said Beckton.
Magnus nodded. ‘We will leave immediately. Thank you, Your Grace, for your hospitality.’ He gave a curt bow that was meant as more of a dismissal than politeness, and as he left Hans followed.
‘What are you going to do?’ his brother asked, hurrying after him.
‘What I have to do,’ he said firmly.
Hans’s reply was quick. ‘I will tell the coachman to make ready.’
For once he seemed to support Magnus’s decision…the first time Hans had done so in the last two years.