The Magic Between Us (Faerie 3)

“You’re mistaken, Mr. Thorne,” she said. But if Marcus’s scowl deepened any further, he would be marred for life. Did this really affect him? He’d left her, after all.

“I assume you’re not here hunting a husband?” he asked.

“I’m just here to lend my magic to the cause.”

“Yes, the install-Marcus-in-his-place cause. Thank you so much for doing that.”

His last comment was bland enough to make her laugh.

“Your laughter is lovely, Miss Hewitt,” he said, his voice soft. “Marcus doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Thank you,” she said. Was he being kind? Or was he entirely self-serving?

“Would you like to take a ride with me in the park tomorrow?” he asked as the music slowed to a stop.

“I suppose I could,” she said. Is that what they did here?

“I suppose you should, my dear,” he said with a laugh, glancing at Marcus, who still scowled at the edge of the dance floor. “Let’s allow Marcus to be the one displaced for a day or two, shall we?”

“Yes,” she blurted. “My answ

er is yes.”

“There’s a smart lass,” he breathed. Then he bowed to her and returned her to the edge of the room.

Did she just make a deal with the devil? She supposed she would find out.

Two

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Claire said from beside Marcus’s shoulder. Marcus didn’t take his eyes off Cecelia, except for a moment when he looked down at his sister. Her eyes twinkled with merriment.

“Shut it, Claire,” he growled. Cecelia was beautiful. Tall and willowy, with hair as black as night and eyes as blue as the sky.

Claire looked up at him, her head cocked to the side like an inquisitive puppy. “What’s the matter, Marcus? Is something wrong?”

“Claire,” he warned. God, his sister knew how to get his blood boiling. She always had. Sophie was the sweet sister. Claire was the nuisance. He pitied Lord Phineas, because he would have to put up with her sharp tongue for the rest of his life. Marcus, on the other hand, did not have to.

“They make a lovely couple, don’t you think?” she asked. The corner of her mouth tilted up, but then she composed herself.

Allen held Cecelia much too close to his person for Marcus’s comfort. And she looked up at Allen and smiled. That was his smile, damn it all. It was not meant for another man. “Lovely,” he replied, as soon as he realized she’d asked for his opinion.

“If they decided to marry, I wonder if we could bring her father from the land of the fae to this world so he could give her away.”

The idea of Mr. and Mrs. Hewitt coming to the other world to sanction a marriage between Cecelia and Allen was enough to make his heart leap. But that could never happen. Marcus wouldn’t allow it. Marcus grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing footman and tossed it back in one big swallow. Then he scowled down at Claire. “You are not amusing.”

“I don’t intend to amuse you, Marcus. I intend to help you.” She patted his arm.

“I don’t need any help.” He took another glass from a waiter and drank it quickly.

“If you didn’t need help, then the woman you love wouldn’t be in the arms of another man, you idiot,” she snapped. “You need help. Lots of help.”

“Did you ever stop to think that I might not want your help?”

She shrugged. “All the time. I just don’t care.” She smiled widely at him. What a pain in the arse.

“Mind your own matters, Claire,” he warned.

“Or what?” She made an O with her lips and then pressed a finger to them. “Or you’ll be angry at me? Frankly, Marcus, I don’t give a damn if you’re angry at me. Because you’re about to let the love of your life walk right into the arms of another man. You’re practically shoving her at him.”