Page 62 of How to Wed a Courtesan

‘Even if...’ He hesitated. His mother did not need to know all of this.

‘Even if?’ She gave a soft sigh. ‘Truly, please stop treating me as though I’m some fragile, breakable thing. I’m far stronger than I seem.’

Except she looked scarcely strong enough to withstand a stiff breeze.

‘Even if she’d had a child with her?’ Evander finished.

Lady Westix straightened, her face lighting up.

Evander shook his head swiftly and she wilted with understanding.

Lady Westix looked down at her tea, her lips pursed. ‘I’m afraid I would have considered it a ruse to get at our assumed wealth. It wouldn’t be the first time fortune-hunters had set upon nobility. And during that time I was particularly shrewd.’

Evander nodded in understanding. Lottie had known his own mother better than he.

Lady Westix reached a hand across the desk towards Evander. ‘Losing a child is one of the hardest fates a woman can suffer.’

He stretched towards her, taking it, her fingers cool and dry in his, blue veins evident beneath her translucent skin.

‘If what you say has merit, Evander,’ she said, ‘I too owe a debt to Lottie.’

‘You may well have the opportunity to make good on that debt. I mean to marry her, and most of the ton will not approve.’

His mother’s hand tightened around his. ‘I’ve played by their rules long enough. I told you before—if you love her, you should not stop fighting for her. And I meant it. I stand by your side, son. I stand with Lottie.’

Evander gave his mother a grateful smile.

A knock sounded at the door. ‘Forgive me, my lord,’ said Edmonds. ‘But a missive has arrived for you.’

‘Enter.’ Evander released his mother’s hand and straightened.

Edmonds crossed the room with a salver and extended it to Evander. He immediately recognised Lottie’s looping handwriting, which addressed the envelope to him.

‘Excuse me,’ he said to his mother, accepting the letter and cracking its seal.

He unfolded it, revealing the single line that made his heart leap.

I will accompany you to the cottage.

Chapter Nineteen

In the past, her carriage rides from London to the cottage had always seemed interminable. Today, however, Lottie found the trip from town passed with an alarming swiftness.

Evander sat opposite her, his elbows on his knees, his brows furrowed, appearing as anxious as she. And she was indeed dreading their arrival as she imagined the little house tucked in the woods.

It had been three years since she had last been there. She’d purchased the building outright from the owner, who had rented it to her when Lily was still alive. The house was small, yes, but its proximity to London, while still remaining remote, could not be matched.

Lottie had considered the possibility of bringing Lily to London, but with heavy smoke from the factories clogging the air, and the bustle and filth of so many people, it had not seemed prudent for her daughter’s health.

Truth be told, Lottie wished now she had contacted the former owners and asked them to care for the cottage—perhaps find new tenants who would have cleared out her belongings or put them to a new purpose. If that were the case, they would not be able to enter, and all the memories contained within could be held at bay forever. Except she hadn’t contacted the former owners and now she had to face what was left of her previous life.

The feeling of being watched pulled Lottie from her musing. Her gaze met Evander’s, which was fixed worriedly on her.

Saying nothing, he reached for her hands and took them in his as the buildings of London sped away behind them and they turned on to the empty forest road that would eventually lead to the cottage.

Lottie’s heart slammed hard against her ribs. Everything in her wanted to rear back in stubborn objection. She did not want to go. But even as her muscles tensed, and her mind prepared to voice her displeasure, the trees cleared away and revealed the lone cottage in the distance.

Perhaps she ought to have looked away, to prevent the pain as much as was possible. But she couldn’t.