Page 73 of How to Wed a Courtesan

‘I do.’ Lady Alice nodded firmly. ‘Now, how do I go about convincing him?’

Lottie settled back in contemplation. Except all she could picture in her mind was Evander, fighting for her with that same resolve. What would she want him to tell her? What could Evander tell her that would change her mind?

And then she knew exactly what answer to give—though Lady Alice would not like it.

‘I think,’ Lottie said gently, ‘he will need to come to that conclusion on his own.’

Lady Alice’s pretty face fell. ‘There’s nothing I can do to help?’

‘Perhaps let him know what it is you love about him, but he must realise it on his own.’ Lottie recalled how Evander had punched Devonington for her. ‘And stand up for him if someone speaks ill of him.’

Lady Alice nodded firmly. ‘I can do that.’

‘I pray he comes around quickly.’ Lottie held the younger woman’s hand in her own and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

As Lady Alice left, Lottie could not stop thinking once more about Evander and how eerily similar their situation was. Except that a missing arm would not destroy a family’s name. A missing arm could not have a sordid past that might shake a husband’s stoicism.

While the sentiments might be reminiscent, their situations were entirely different. However, it did give Lottie an idea for a way they could still be together without her blemishing the Westix name.

Evander had blundered in his first attempt with Lottie. He would not do so again. This time he anticipated that she would reject his proposal. And this time he knew exactly what to say.

Once more, he stopped by Aphrodite & Cupid.

Miss Flemming greeted him with her usual smile. ‘Another grand bouquet, Lord Westix?’

‘Not quite.’ Evander glanced around the shop. ‘I should like a bunch of flowers, nothing grand. Daffodils and pink carnations, please. However, I should like you to choose the shoddiest flowers you can find.’

Miss Flemming blinked. ‘I do beg your pardon, my lord, but we only have fine flowers here. We wouldn’t have any that aren’t beautiful.’

Evander frowned. ‘I see. I suppose whatever daffodils and carnations you have will suffice.’

Miss Flemming sucked in a quick breath. ‘It suddenly occurs to me we have daffodils in the small garden we tend at the back. Would you... Would you like some of those?’

‘Please. And charge me for the cost of replacing them in the garden.’

‘That isn’t necessary—’

‘Of course it is.’

Miss Flemming flushed. ‘You’re a good man, Lord Westix. Thank you.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘Do forgive me a moment, while I step out.’

Evander nodded, and waited while she assembled the flowers. When she returned, the daffodils were already beginning to wilt where they were bunched against the sturdier stems of the quality carnations.

She cast him an apologetic look. ‘I’m afraid they will not last long.’

He assessed the pathetic flowers. ‘They’re precisely what I was hoping for. I need only one last thing.’

‘Of course.’

He took a long, deep breath. ‘A lily.’

‘Only one?’

He nodded. ‘The smallest you have.’

She disappeared, and returned with a flower held between her fingers. ‘Will this do?’

The delicate curling white petals appeared healthy and beautiful, and it was indeed the tiniest lily he’d ever seen.