Page 48 of How to Wed a Courtesan

‘We should return before we’re missed,’ he said.

She glanced back towards the doors and he saw a flicker of trepidation.

‘I can go first if you’d rather,’ he offered.

She shook her head. ‘I’d prefer not to give them fodder for gossip if I’m gone too long.’

Though she smiled when she said it, he knew that despite her resolve she truly was worried about the backlash of opinion.

‘However, I do appreciate your consideration.’ She rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his in a quick kiss.

As his lips still tingled with the warmth of her affection she strode towards the door and disappeared inside. He passed the next several minutes thinking of her, staring out at the darkened garden with memories of her heavy on his mind. Those from the past and those in the present. And, if he was being entirely honest, he hoped for some more in the future.

Once a sufficient amount of time had elapsed after her departure, he followed her into the ballroom. The light and sound were a veritable assault after the cool quiet of the night outside. His gaze swept the area, seeking out the delicate lavender gown.

He almost missed her on the first pass, given the bulk of Lord Devonington’s body blocking her. Clearly she had not made it farther than a dozen steps into the ballroom before being detained in conversation. Which meant they had been speaking together for some time.

He ought to leave her to her privacy. Except that Lord Devonington was a foul sort—one who said what was on his mind. And that was seldom a good thing.

Evander edged closer, using the crowd to mask his actions, in an attempt to get within earshot. Unfortunately the Earl was speaking so quietly Evander was practically behind the man before he could make out what was being said.

‘...it’s why I offered to become your protector before,’ Lord Devonington said in a low voice.

Evander’s blood went cold.

Good God. Had Lottie been Devonington’s mistress in the past?

‘I’ve declined you twice in the past and I am doing so again now,’ Lottie replied firmly. ‘Good evening, Lord Devonington.’

‘I have not finished speaking with you,’ the Earl hissed. ‘I’m willing to pay good money for your favours—’

Evander flew into action, grabbing Devonington by the shoulder, spinning the man round and slamming his fist into that fleshy jaw.

But that wasn’t enough.

He grabbed the Earl as the man blinked in surprise, too stunned by the suddenness of the attack even to put up his arms to block his face. Evander hit him again, smashing his fist into the cur’s face with a force so hard pain shot through his fingers and up his arm.

Devonington fell back as blood spurted from his nose. He held his dimpled hands to his face, eyes wide. Somewhere nearby a woman screamed.

Perhaps that was what recalled Evander to his senses. Or perhaps it was the heavy way Devonington sat back, the floor around him spattered with blood.

Lottie.

Evander caught her horrified expression and immediately went to her.

‘Lottie.’ He said her name softly.

She didn’t move. And then her gloved hand wrapped around his, her touch like a caress, as concern showed in her eyes. ‘Are you hurt?’

He shook his head rather than lie. His hand hurt something fierce, but she didn’t need to know that. ‘Come, I’ll see you to your carriage.’

She nodded and allowed him to lead her from the ballroom as every set of eyes remained fixed on them.

The night had a chill to it he hadn’t noticed when they were outside previously. Lottie seemed to be suddenly aware of it as well, for she shivered. He removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

‘I heard what he said to you,’ Evander said softly.

Lottie closed her eyes slowly. ‘I wish you hadn’t. It’s humiliating, this life I have lived. And everyone knows it.’