Page 26 of How to Wed a Courtesan

He saw suddenly how little choice she’d had. How little choice he’d left her with when he’d abandoned her.

She had trusted him. And he had failed her.

Her ruin had been entirely his fault.

He gave in to the weakness softening his knees and sank onto the chair. Tempering his instinct to go after her took everything he had. But his presence, he knew, would not be welcome. She had made that much clear. No matter how much he wished to be with her.

She had looked at him incredulously earlier, when he’d said he would still marry her, and had declared she was not worthy of the title of Countess.

Except it was Evander who was not worthy of her.

His gaze found its way to the glowing embers in the hearth. She had said he had reclaimed his wealth for him, not for her. Was that truly the case...?

Egypt was bloody hot in August. Evander had thought the Nile Delta would be cooler than the dry, baking sun inland, but he had underestimated the humidity that left a perpetual sheen of sweat slick across his brow. The letter under his hand was blurred where the dampness of his palm smeared the ink as he wrote. It was one he had been working on for several months. To Lottie.

Three years had passed. Two years longer than he’d anticipated. He’d sent a couple of letters to her, both composed as this one had been, over several months, written in the snatches of time between negotiations, meetings, research and exploration.

But he would be home soon, after this latest discovery of artefacts. Ancient jewellery of hammered gold and carved precious stones made up an assortment of rings, necklaces, bracelets and collars.

He had taken care to diversify his wares, with spices, fabrics and goods from other locations. There was enough to fill his coffers.

But he needed to ensure they would never again run dry.

And there was good coin to be had in artefacts.

His father had known that.

The thought made his heart slam harder. The last thing he wanted was to be like his father.

Irritation teased at the back of Evander’s neck, the way it always did when he thought of his father. He wasn’t like the former Earl, damn it.

Evander focused on the letter. The ink had been smudged beyond legibility. With a growl of frustration, he balled it up and tossed it in the rubbish bin beside his desk. He was tired of being away from England, away from Lottie.

His chest compressed as her image swam in his mind. Beautiful, innocent. The woman he would make his wife upon his return.

Was the treasure he’d accumulated enough?

She needed the very best in life. He would offer her nothing less. Diamonds, silks, furs, estates that would make Huntly Manor look like a cottage. Anything her heart desired.

Determination fired through him. After this haul he would be done. Or perhaps just one more. To ensure the family fortune was never in jeopardy again.

A knock came at the door and his guide entered with an apologetic bow. ‘Forgive me, my lord, but it appears the authorities require approval prior to allowing you to depart with your findings.’

‘More?’ Evander tried to keep the irritation from his voice. ‘The last “approval” took nearly six months to obtain.’

Bassel tilted his head. ‘If I may, my lord, a proper bribe might be sufficient to avoid such approvals.’

In the past, Evander had immediately declined such considerations. But now he hesitated. He couldn’t afford another six months of waiting. His father had done it. And Evander had been gone so very long from Lottie.

However, it was the thought of her that made him reconsider the temptation of bribery. She was a good-hearted woman who would never want a fortune that was obtained by underhanded dealings.

Evander tugged his stare from the fire and scrubbed a hand over his face. He could have returned earlier if he hadn’t been so dogged in his determination to have great wealth. In truth, he had far more than he had expected. He’d kept his estimations low, to avoid falling short on what he’d hoped to achieve. But in fact he’d more than doubled the number he’d set in his mind, was closer to having tripled it.

He’d told himself he’d done it for Lottie, but had he?

Was he just like his father?

Without thought, Evander let his hand wander into his jacket pocket and he slipped the cold band of metal onto the tip of his smallest finger. He withdrew the ring he’d given to Lottie when he’d proposed all those years ago. The small diamond chip winked at him in the firelight.