Page 21 of How to Wed a Courtesan

‘If he hadn’t robbed her of her virtue before her father died,’ Charles continued, red-faced with rage, ‘she wouldn’t have had to—’

‘Charles.’ Lottie put a hand on his arm. ‘I believe this is a conversation I ought to have with the Earl myself rather than see my scandal aired so publicly.’

He glowered at Evander. ‘Very well,’ he said through gritted teeth.

‘You and your wife ought to be shown to your rooms.’ Lottie tried to force a smile, but her lips quivered with the effort. ‘You and I can leave this discussion for later. For now, I would like a moment alone with...’ She caught herself before she said his Christian name. ‘...the Earl of Westix.’

Charles’ valet indicated the closed door. ‘Shall I summon the butler to show you to your rooms?’

Charles hesitated, looking uncertain and altogether thoroughly ruffled.

Evander bowed to Charles. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace? I would very much like to speak to Lottie alone.’

A muscle worked in Charles’ jaw. ‘If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.’

Evander’s flat green eyes found Lottie’s. ‘If I hurt her in such way again, I’ll kill myself.’

‘Evander!’ Eleanor gasped in horror.

But Evander wasn’t looking at his sister. He was still focused on Lottie as he spoke. ‘I have committed many egregious wrongs, sister. And for all of them I’m heartily sorry.’

The butler entered the room and politely asked Charles and his new wife to follow him. This time neither protested, and both finally left the room.

The door to the study clicked closed, confirming the departure of Charles and his new wife. An indication Lottie was now alone with Evander for the first time in four years.

Since he had abandoned her.

She stared at the door for a long time, not wanting to turn her attention back to Evander, too frightened by the onslaught of emotion doing so might elicit.

‘I suppose it is safe to assume you did not receive my letters,’ Evander hedged.

Finally, she turned to him. Hurt welled anew, the way blood beaded on a freshly picked wound. His right cheekbone was red, where Charles had punched him. Another blotch appeared on his opposite cheek, where she had slapped him.

‘What letters?’ Lottie whispered through numb lips.

‘I sent two.’

‘Two?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Two...in four years?’

Evander grimaced, enhancing those new lines on his face. ‘I was rather focused on my task. I meant to send more. Truly, I even wrote several...’ His voice tapered off.

Rage and hurt and confusion roiled through her thoughts like clouds gathering before a powerful storm. After everything she had given up...after what she had lost, he had only bothered to send two letters.

She stepped back as tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t do this. Not now. Not when he had so unexpectedly reappeared in her life. There needed to be a moment of reconciliation to allow her mind to fully wrap itself about the understanding of what was happening.

‘Lottie, please.’ He reached for her. ‘I had no idea you’d never received them.’

‘Two letters?’ she said sharply. ‘For all the time I waited. For everything—’

For everything she’d had to become beneath the burden of a woman’s shame while he’d jaunted around the world with a man’s freedom. For the soul-blistering pain of what she had so recently lost.

Her stomach churned with the urge to be sick. She clasped her arms around her middle and drew in a shuddering breath.

‘I had not anticipated my journey would keep me away for so long.’ He stepped towards her and hesitated, as though debating if he ought to reach for her again. ‘I predicted my return to be much more expedient.’

She was tempted to nod as if she understood, to be agreeable in the way women were instructed to be. Except she did not understand.

‘Six months,’ she said, with a clear memory of that long-ago conversation when he’d left. ‘A year at most.’