Page 77 of How to Wed a Courtesan

Lottie laughed. ‘You’re terrible.’

‘Don’t you mean I’m charming?’ He beamed a smile at her that went straight to her heart.

‘And wonderful,’ she said dreamily. ‘And perfect.’

‘Oh, well, I didn’t intend for you to elaborate, but by all means do go on.’

A long, wistful sigh sounded from the other side of the room where Sarah stood. They both turned to look at her, and found her watching them with a sentimental smile tilting her lips.

She stiffened, realising she’d been caught. ‘Oh. I...’ She looked about. ‘Where did I put that glass?’

‘Cook took it for you,’ Lottie said, holding back a laugh.

‘Ah. Yes. Well...’ Sarah floundered for a moment, before throwing her hands up in surrender with a huff and rushing from the room, swiftly closing the doors behind her.

For all the good that might do in a house full of servants such as Lottie’s.

But it was privacy, nonetheless, and Lottie found herself eternally grateful for those few moments with Evander.

He gazed down at her, his eyes sparkling once more the way they’d done when he’d met her for their walks on the little footpath in Binsey.

‘In four days you’ll be my Countess.’ He stroked a hand down her cheek, his eyes tender with affection. ‘My wife. After six long years.’

And they had indeed been long years, suffered independently of one another, but now they were brought together through happiness and honesty.

Why was it, then, that a little twinge of discomfort had lodged at the pit of Lottie’s stomach? Perhaps it was simply the thought of marrying by special licence in only four days? Or the fear that his mother would be displeased?

Perhaps, too, it was anticipation of the ton’s reaction to their union.

Regardless of what it was, Lottie pushed it away, tucking it neatly into the back of her mind. Whatever it was, she would address it at another time. For now, she simply wanted to be deliriously blissful.

And for that moment she was. She truly, truly was.

As it turned out, the special licence was not obtained in two days. Evander procured it in only one.

Wealth went a long way among the ton, despite their claims to be above such vulgarity.

In the four days they’d had to plan, a vicar had agreed to do the ceremony at a small nearby chapel, and Evander had placed a large order of flowers at Aphrodite & Cupid, purchasing arrangements for the chapel as well as Westix Place, where the breakfast would be held after.

Miss Flemming had never smiled so broadly, seeing the number of centrepieces he’d requested. He wanted all of Westix Place filled with the scent of fresh flowers for Lottie.

The four days had flown by, far more quickly than Evander had imagined they would—especially when he had been certain they would drag terribly. But with the swiftness of a blinking eye Evander was waking up to the morning of his wedding day.

The sun shone on the cool day, burning off the last vestiges of fog as his carriage pulled up at the small church. His mother sat opposite him, alternating between offering titbits of unsolicited marital advice and beaming proudly. By the time they arrived, Eleanor and Charles were already there.

While Lady Westix saw to the final touches of the decorations in the small church—white and silver ribbon with clusters of lilies and ivy—Eleanor went to wait for Lottie in the narthex of the church.

That left only Charles, lingering near the altar.

There had always been an underlying tension between Evander and his brother-in-law. First with the unfortunate business between their fathers coming between them, and then with the wrongs Evander had committed to both Eleanor and Lottie, in worrying them in the years of his absence. And, of course, for having ruined Lottie.

Evander would never forgive himself for those last two infractions either.

Being that they were the only two remaining without task in the church, Charles approached Evander, his brilliant blue eyes narrowed. ‘It’s your wedding day,’ he said.

‘It is,’ Evander agreed.

‘Your marriage will not be well received by all.’