Page 59 of How to Wed a Courtesan

A muscle flexed in his jaw, but he did not lash out at her. Instead, he offered a stiff nod, eyes blazing with a pain he could not mask. ‘I understand.’

They said nothing as they both gathered their clothes and put themselves to rights once more. Evander helped tie her undergarments into place and buttoned the back of her gown.

‘If you don’t forgive me, I would not blame you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I am sure I will never be able to forgive myself. I was never able to meet our daughter. I’ve never seen where she lived, heard stories about her life. My heart is aching for a connection with Lily.’ He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘I would never ask you to go through something that causes you pain except in this. Lottie, I want to know about our little girl. Even if it is the final wedge between us, I cannot stand the idea of not knowing about her.’

He was right, she knew. He needed to find a connection with Lily in any way he could. Only Lottie did not know if she was brave enough to agree.

She wrapped her arms around herself, though it did not bring comfort. Not as Evander’s embrace had done. How could she say no to such a request?

‘I’ll consider it,’ she said at last.

He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

He reached for her, but again she stepped back.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly.

He nodded. ‘Good day, Lottie.’

She pressed her lips together, saying nothing in reply as he left the room. Only when the door clicked closed did she sag to the floor and give in to utter despondency.

How could she deny him? And yet how could she possibly bring herself to go back there?

She knew what she ought to do, but she did not know if she was brave enough to face those incredible fears.

Above all else, she did not want to hate him.

And going back to the cottage, reliving such suffering, might well make her do that.

Chapter Eighteen

Nothing made the press of heartache greater than witnessing new young love.

The next day Lottie sat opposite Lady Caroline, whose dark eyes glowed with joy.

‘He had this ingenious shirt with the steps of the dance. Not only did he not miss a single step, he asked me to dance the next cotillion set with him.’

‘I’m so pleased to hear it,’ Lottie said. And truly she was. It warmed her to know her gift yielded such impact.

She had been like Lady Caroline once—innocent and hopeful, her entire self given to the idea of love. And, happy for the young woman, she could not help but remember when she too had gloried in the throes of first love. The world had seemed so perfect then, as if all the pieces had fallen perfectly into place.

‘He’s already asked when my next ball is,’ Lady Caroline said. ‘I believe he actually enjoyed himself.’ She shifted forward on the settee and her dark curls bounced with the movement. ‘I want your counsel on an idea.’

‘An idea?’ Lottie gave her a curious look.

Lady Caroline’s suggestions were often subtle, yet clear enough to determine. By most people, that was. Seldom by Lord Rawley, unfortunately. It wasn’t that he was a stupid man. Quite the opposite. He was extraordinarily intelligent. But Lord Rawley was the sensitive sort—not so much in how he took other’s remarks, but in regard to his consideration towards others.

His father had passed away when he was barely out of the nursery, and as a result his mother doted on him. Perhaps that was why he was so perceptive in reading others, and overly careful in how he treated them—women, especially.

The Viscount was a man who took his responsibility seriously and had a care not to give in to the same vices as most of his peers. There was no excessive drinking or gambling or whoring for him. And, while it made him the ideal husband, it made for a frustrating man in the courting game.

Which was how poor Lady Caroline had ended up on Lottie’s settee. She was beautiful, with dark eyes and hair like her brother, Lord Dalton. Any man would have been all too eager to wed her. But she didn’t want any of them. Her heart was set on Lord Rawley.

‘I want to encourage him to kiss me,’ Lady Caroline said with a gleeful lift of her shoulders. ‘Perhaps if I invite him onto the veranda when no one else is there...’ A shrewd expression replaced her delight and she appeared to gauge Lottie’s reaction.

Lottie lifted a brow, preferring Lady Caroline to admit the unlikelihood of her scheme actually working rather than having to say it herself.

Lady Caroline sighed. ‘I know he won’t do it. But what if I kiss him?’ The gleam was back in her eyes.