Page 96 of How to Wed a Courtesan

‘I’m Charles’s sister.’ Lottie rushed to stand by Charles with a grin. ‘Well, half-sister. Do you see it?’ She pointed between them.

Evander looked between them—really looked between them. Of course, he had always known Lottie had stunning blue eyes, and that Charles’s were a relatively similar colour, and that both had dark hair. But never had he truly studied them side by side, looking for familial traits.

Both had high cheekbones and full lips. Their jaws were sharp, though Lottie’s was more pointed at the chin. But, yes, when comparing them side by side, and understanding that they were indeed related.

Evander blinked in surprise. ‘Good God.’

‘My father married her mother after mine passed,’ Charles said.

‘When I was born, our father thought she had not been faithful, and insisted I be removed from his sight,’ Lottie continued. ‘Without anywhere else to go, she went to stay with a sister in Wallingford whose husband had recently accepted an appointment as vicar in the village of Binsey.’

She lifted the papers, settling them one on top of the other, and carried them over to Evander.

‘Mother—my aunt—wrote everything here, you see?’ She handed them to him. ‘My mother died soon after my birth and so my aunt, who had stayed behind to tend her, claimed me as hers. But she had my mother sign this note. And there is this.’

She reached for a Book of Common Prayer and opened the battered volume, revealing the details of not only a marriage but also a child being born.

‘Then your father...?’ Evander looked to Charles and then Lottie.

‘Yes, my father was truly the Duke of Somersville and I was his legitimate daughter.’ Lottie touched Evander’s hand. ‘And the man and woman who raised me were my aunt and uncle—yet they treated me as if I truly was their daughter. Their love...’ She paused, taken for a moment with emotion. ‘Their love for me was so pure that I never suspected.’

‘Lottie.’ Evander pulled his wife into his arms and held her, knowing the impact this would have on all her memories of her childhood.

‘I must say this—because someone should.’ The Dowager Countess held her cane out at an arrogant angle and a slow smile crept over her lips. ‘The ton will be tripping over themselves when this news comes out.’

‘Oh, and it shall,’ Eleanor said. ‘I feel quite certain that the Lady Observer will be making a special reappearance to publish a column quite soon, regarding this very juicy titbit. At least once Violet receives the missive I sent her prior to our departure from Somersville Place.’

Evander grinned in anticipation of all the tabbies, such as the likes of Lady Norrick, learning of Lottie’s true lineage. It would indeed be a sight to behold.

Lottie held the latest copy of Society Journal in her hands two days later at breakfast, reading through the very special edition from the previously retired scandal sheet author the Lady Observer.

Violet’s story in Society Journal was wonderfully detailed, sharing the information about the Duke of Somersville’s marriage to Lottie’s mother, which was recorded in the Book of Common Prayer, and how Lottie had been raised without an inkling of who she was. In the end, confirmed unequivocally by the parish register in Binsey, Lottie truly was the legitimate daughter of the late Duke of Somersville.

Lottie sighed and set the paper down beside her plate.

‘What do you think?’ Evander asked. ‘You’ve been quite close-lipped about the lot of it.’

‘It’s bittersweet,’ Lottie admitted. ‘The people who I thought were my parents truly were not.’

‘How do you mean?’ Evander poured himself a bit more tea and took a careful sip.

Lottie shook her head. ‘They weren’t my parents, but all that time they never told me.’ The thought of her father—or rather her uncle, whom she couldn’t help but think of as her father—burned in her chest. ‘Nothing could make me truly theirs. I was the daughter of a duke who didn’t trust my true mother and left her to die without his support.’

‘I disagree.’ Evander set his teacup on the saucer and leaned back comfortably in his chair. ‘The Duke of Somersville was never a father to you in any way. Not the way Reverend Rossington was. And your poor mother never had the chance.’ He tilted his head sympathetically and reached across the linen tablecloth to take her hand. ‘You have always considered them your parents. Why change that now?’

Lottie let his words sink in and nodded to herself. ‘You bring up an excellent point. What does it matter?’

‘The only difference is that now we’ll enjoy watching the ton trip over their tongues as they try to retract their harsh words.’ He chuckled. ‘On that note, shall we attend the fashionable hour at Hyde Park?’

She laughed. ‘Oh, you are wicked.’

‘Me?’ He put a hand to his chest in mock offence. ‘Truly, it will be a lark. Say yes.’

He cocked his head at a rakish tilt and winked at her, setting her laughing once more.

‘Very well,’ she replied. ‘But this changes nothing of our intention to remove to Huntly, does it?’

‘Why ever would it?’ he queried. ‘I assure you, the pompous ton finally accepting you to their bosom does not endear me to people I never found agreeable. This changes nothing.’