Page 9 of How to Wed a Courtesan

‘That’s what I’ve always loved about the country.’ Lottie said wistfully, her face hidden in profile by her bonnet.

‘What do you mean?’ he pressed.

The bottom of her gown was damp from the dew on the long grass and small dot of pink showed against the muslin. Something like paint, as before when he’d seen her.

‘I love how everything here is much more relaxed.’

She looked up at him, revealing her face once more. Bright blue eyes, fair skin, full red lips. He was struck anew with the force of her beauty.

‘Charles always speaks of the rules in London and they sound terribly suffocating,’ she continued.

‘Indeed, they are,’ Evander agreed. ‘I would never be allowed to walk with you as we are now. Alone. It would ruin you.’

‘I’m glad we’re here, then.’ She smiled up at him.

‘As am I,’ he replied.

And indeed he was. Glad that he had found Lottie after far too many months of thinking of her, and that they were now alone, somewhere he might once more sample the sweetness of her sensual mouth.

Though their kiss had been brief the day before, it had not left his mind—the softness of her lips, the heady sweet scent of her, the incredible yearning it awoke within him.

‘And how do you find Binsey?’ she asked. ‘After all the fine places you’ve been.’

‘I can honestly say there is nowhere else I’d rather be.’

‘Not even travelling around the world like your father?’

He shook his head. ‘I’ve never had the desire for a Grand Tour. Not when there are so many things to see to in England. I believe I shall leave the rest of the world to him and enjoy my time here in Binsey. Tell me, what is it that occupies your days here?’

Colour warmed her cheeks beneath her bonnet. ‘It’s a far simpler life than what you’ve told me of life in London. I care for my father and see to his parishioners, whom I take tea with and help care for should they be in need of anything.’

‘I doubt it’s as simple as you claim.’

‘Well, there are the gossips to contend with.’ She gave him an exasperated look. ‘You would be surprised how much havoc bored women can wreak.’

‘Oh, I understand entirely, as there are far too many bored women in London.’ Evander grimaced, thinking of how the ton could destroy a reputation with a string of well-placed gossip. ‘What do you do for yourself? For pleasure?’

She gave a self-deprecating laugh and put a hand to her face, obscuring it. ‘I’m afraid my life here is rather dull.’

In truth, he was surprised at such a response. He’d assumed a woman of her wit and charm would have droves of friends to meet up with, for sewing circles and ribbon curling, or whatever it was that ladies did with one another.

‘But you paint,’ he said, by way of encouragement. He’d gone on about London and Scotland for an age at the ball all those months ago. He wanted to learn more about her.

Lottie blinked. ‘How did you—?’ Her gaze caught on the slight pink stain on her skirt and her eyes widened. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise...’ Her entire face went as pink as the small stain. ‘Yes, I... I am apparently a very clumsy painter. Just watercolours.’ She lifted her shoulders and shook her head. ‘It is nothing terribly exciting.’

‘I think it sounds fascinating,’ he replied. ‘What did you last paint?’

She paused and bit her lip. ‘A sunrise,’ she replied at last. ‘I woke one morning before the sun had fully risen and found the sky stained with the most brilliant colours. A blaze of red-orange at the centre and mixes of purple and pink, with gold tones colouring blue-bellied clouds. The trees were but shadows in the foreground, as though giving way to the splendour.’

Her gaze fixed on the clouds now, as though she was seeing what she described. Evander certainly was, in his mind’s eye. In the discussion of her painting, he’d found a passion awoken. She might downplay her pastime, but it was of great import to her.

They neared the place where he had met her—where they would soon part ways.

‘I should love to see your paintings sometime,’ he said.

She blinked her eyes open and twisted her fingers against one another. ‘You would?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Before he could stop himself, he reached for her flushed cheek. ‘I want to know everything about you.’