Page 37 of How to Wed a Courtesan

‘Now you remember.’ Lord Devonington licked his lips. ‘I assure you I have not forgotten.’

The urge to be sick pressed at the back of Lottie’s throat. She didn’t bother to excuse herself from the conversation, not caring for manners with someone so rude. She rushed away to the retiring room, where she slid behind a curtain for a moment of privacy.

Coming to the ball had been a mistake. She hadn’t realised how many would be in attendance. Evander’s explanation had made it sound small. Once she realised it was anything but, she ought to have left. Except she’d already gone to the expense of her dress, spent time putting her hair just so and indulging in that terrible thing called hope that now felt as though it were strangling her.

‘Did you see her?’

A woman’s voice came to her.

‘Dancing with all the men. No doubt propositioning them.’

Lottie closed her eyes, knowing full well they referred to her.

‘Perhaps that is her angle, then,’ another woman replied. ‘To rub elbows with her betters in an attempt to acquire several more. And I thought a man of the Earl of Westix’s wealth would be enough to sate her avarice.’

Lottie pressed a hand to her mouth to squelch her sob, but it did nothing to keep the hot tears from coursing down her cheeks. She wished the carpet beneath her would part and swallow her whole. Or, better yet, that she might sprout wings like a bird and fly out of this awful place, never to return to London or anywhere anyone had ever heard of her transgressions.

‘Lady Norrick and Lady Cotsworth—how lovely to see you.’

Lottie recognised the woman speaking as Violet, the new Countess of Dalton. The lovely young woman had once been the secret author of the scandal sheet the Lady Observer.

The women acknowledged Violet with murmured greetings.

‘I’m quite certain both your daughters are under Lottie’s tutelage—unless I’m mistaken,’ Violet said in a conversational tone. ‘Am I mistaken?’

The two women stammered.

Violet tsked. ‘Shame on you both. Yes, Lottie is beautiful enough to make any woman jealous, but it’s only in the truly awful that such hateful spite arises.’

There was a gasp of outrage, followed by the bustle of hasty departure.

Lottie leaned her head back against the wall and remained where she stood. She was grateful to Violet, but by no means eager to return to the ballroom.

After a bit of time had passed, and Lottie was certain Lady Cotsworth and Lady Norrick wouldn’t be lingering beyond the door, she removed herself from the retiring room and, after retrieving her cloak, from Westix Place.

Rather than endure the interminable wait for her own carriage, she took her chances in the open night air, in the hope of securing a hack. After all, not worrying after one’s reputation did have its benefits, though they were indeed few and far between.

As the cool night air rushed across her blazing cheeks, Lottie reconciled herself to what she’d known all this time and what she had been trying to make Evander understand: it didn’t matter how much he longed to be with her. People would never forget who she was or what she had done to survive.

She wished he had never left her, that she had never had to degrade herself. Hurt and anger flashed like sparks. Not that they did any good. There was no going back over the bridge she had burned.

She pushed through the door of her townhouse, startling Sarah into a scream. The maid had been walking past the door when Lottie made her abrupt arrival, and now held her chest with open hands, as though keeping her heart from spilling out.

‘You gave me a fright,’ Sarah exclaimed. Her shock blinked into confusion. ‘Why are you home so early?’

‘Come, now,’ Lottie’s butler swept past Sarah and came to take her cloak. ‘Is that any way to care for our mistress?’

‘Thank you, Andrews,’ Lottie whispered.

He folded the heavy velvet in his arms and regarded her with concern, furrowing his brow into a new series of wrinkles. ‘Is something amiss? Has someone hurt you?’

Yes.

She swallowed back her answer and shook her head. ‘I’d simply like to be left alone. You may have the remainder of the night off.’

He hesitated, his thin lips arcing downward in a frown.

‘I’ll take it from here, if you don’t mind,’ Sarah gloated as she bumped past him.