Page 80 of Christmas Magic

Lucian scowled. He hadn’t realized Santa had spurned Cora in such a dishonorable fashion.

His lordship threw out his hands. “Years ago, I’m not the one who acted cold and uninterested.”

A cry broke from her. “I wanted to know how you felt about me.”

“You already knew.”

“Did I?” She shook her head. “I asked to talk to you. Instead, you went out with your friends.”

His lordship yanked the fuzzy hat back down on his head then set his hands on his hips. “I don’t even know why we’re having this discussion. What happened between us ended years ago. We both married other people; lived our lives.”

Lucian’s scowl deepened. Santa seemed determined to avoid any responsibility for what had occurred. “’Tis never right to hurt a lady,” he said.

Santa’s gaze fixed on him. “Who are you to have an opinion on our relationship?”

“I am—”

“He’s a far nobler man than you,” Cora said frostily. “That’s for sure.”

Anger crackled in the air. Santa’s face reddened, as though in his thick, fuzzy suit, he’d suddenly become overheated. “I am done with this conversation.”

Cora wrinkled her nose. “Run away, then—just like you did long ago.”

Santa clenched his gloved hands and started back toward the crowd.

“Wait,” Lucian said.

“No. I’ve kept the kids waiting long enough. Good day to you both.”

“Wearing your livery, milord. Impersonating you.”

Santa glanced over his shoulder, causing his hat to go askew.

“Your permission,” Lucian insisted. “Do I have it?”

His lordship righted his hat. “Be Santa. Don’t be Santa. Doesn’t matter to me.”