Page 23 of How to Wed a Courtesan

He frowned. ‘We only ever—’

She lifted her brow and he sucked in a breath.

‘There is someone else, then?’

‘There have been a few,’ she replied levelly.

He cleared his throat. ‘I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re saying.’

‘In order to survive these four years...’ She squared her shoulders and met his gaze with all the power of her unguarded emotions, letting him see the hurt and the rage and the soul-shaking misery of what she had lost. ‘I had to become a courtesan.’

Evander stared incredulously at Lottie. Her lovely face remained impassive, her pale blue eyes simmering with what appeared to be a challenge—as if she were daring him to contradict her.

‘I beg your pardon?’ he said as his thoughts tangled around the words that came out of her beautiful mouth.

‘You heard me,’ she accused gently.

He nodded in concession. He had. Only he wished he had not.

‘What happened?’ He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his scalp beneath as though it might clear some of the tension from his mind.

‘My father died not long after you left. It was a carriage accident. His death was quite unexpected, as I’m sure you can imagine, considering how hearty and hale he’d always been.’ She looked away and swallowed, clearly pained by the loss even now.

Evander flinched at the enormity of such news. His own father had been a surly man, but Reverend Rossington had cared greatly for Lottie, always ensuring she had all she needed, and praising her accomplishments. He had been the foundation upon which her entire life had been built. And he had kept her from falling apart when her mother died. Well, her father and Charles—but then Charles had been gone as well, on his Grand Tour.

The power of her loss ached in Evander’s chest. Once upon a time he would have been able to curl her into the embrace of his arms and hold her against him to help ease her hurt. Now the stiffness of her shoulders indicated she would not welcome such comfort.

Instead, he hovered awkwardly near her. ‘Lottie, I’m so sorry.’

She turned away, severing any chance of a connection between them and shielding her emotions. ‘My father worked hard to give me a good life—harder than I realised. When he died, there were only enough funds left for me to get by for a while on my own. But...’ She paused and swallowed, giving a slight shake of her head. ‘But there are few jobs to be had for a woman—especially in a village. And, of course, I didn’t plan to marry, as women usually do for security. I had no choice but to go to London for employment.’

Her fingertips moved over the glossy surface of his desk, and she averted her gaze. Purposely, no doubt.

‘There are not many jobs available to a woman at all, as it happens.’ There was an underlying hardness to her tone. ‘Even in London.’

And so she had become a courtesan. A woman who sold her body to the highest bidder.

The fault did not lie with her, but with him. He should have held tighter to her and her love, but instead he’d left her to total ruin.

His hand curled into a fist, and he wished he could kill every man who had touched her. Or beat his younger self for having only ever sent two letters and not realising the lack of reliable post.

The letters he had sent had been long and carefully written over months, as he continued to postpone his return with each new issue that sprang up. And there had been plenty. His father’s dealings had been steeped in deceit and dishonesty. It had been Lottie’s goodness which had kept Evander just in his interactions, knowing she would not want wealth at another’s expense. Except such work had taken too long and had apparently cost far too much.

‘Marry me, Lottie,’ he said again, with determination this time.

She turned to him, staring at him as though he’d suddenly sprouted horns. And maybe in her mind he had.

‘You can’t be serious,’ she said.

‘I assure you, I am.’

Tears filled her eyes and welled in his heart. ‘I’m ruined, Evander.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘But you will.’ She pressed her lips together as she attempted to collect herself. ‘I am a pariah. I have had lovers among the ton, men who have paid me well for my company. And through a turn of luck, thanks to your mother, I have been able to move on from such endeavours to something that has gained me even more notoriety.’

He did not ask for clarification, certain he did not want to know.