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How to Wed a Courtesan--An entertaining Regency romance

Page 19

by Madeline Martin


  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.

  His throat tightened. ‘It’s perfect.’

  Once more he made his way back to Lottie’s townhouse, noting how, upon his arrival, the butler regarded the daffodils with apparent disdain.

  She was waiting for him in the drawing room when he arrived, wearing a simple blue day dress with her hair in a quick knot.

  The ring box sat on the table and his heart went to it.

  He kept the flowers hidden behind his back as the double doors were closed behind him.

  ‘I have my decision.’

  She drew in a quick breath, and in that span of time Evander rushed to speak, saying, ‘Before you give me your answer...’

  At that same moment, she continued, ‘I will be your mistress.’

  From outside the door someone gave a choke, followed by a feigned cough.

  Evander paid them no mind. Instead he stared in horror at Lottie, the woman he had spent six years wanting to have as his wife. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I’ll be your mistress.’ Her gaze slid to the ring box. ‘But I cannot marry you.’

  ‘Lottie...’

  ‘Let me say my piece.’ She looked down at her hands and twisted them against one another. ‘I love you. I’ll never deny it again. But it is my love for you that makes me unable to be your wife.’

  Evander shook his head vehemently. ‘No. I won’t have you that way.’

  She pulled in a shuddering breath. ‘Then you can have me in no way at all. I will not ruin your family. I will not ruin your name.’

  ‘No,’ he said again.

  ‘What will you do when you hear of a man who has been my protector? What will you do when your mother is no longer welcome around her friends because of her association with me?’ Her cheeks had gone red as she spoke. ‘I will not trap you in marriage.’

  ‘No,’ he said a final time. ‘Please, Lottie.’ It was his turn to speak. ‘I didn’t simply come here to receive your answer. I have more I wish to say.’ He held out the flowers, first the daffodils and carnations.

  The tension on her face melted. ‘These are like the first bouquet you ever brought me.’

  ‘With one special exception.’ He withdrew the small lily from behind his back and presented it to her.

  She regarded the tiny flower with reverence, and the emotion on her face told him he understood its significance exactly. ‘Oh, Evander, this is my favourite of all the bouquets you’ve given me.’

  He breathed a sigh of relief, glad she enjoyed them. ‘But that isn’t all. I botched it yesterday. I have more to say.’

  Lottie nodded and started to twist her fingers again. It was the perfect opening.

  ‘You say you aren’t the same women you were six years ago,’ he said.

  Lottie’s brow furrowed, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to be distracted this time and continued.

  ‘I disagree.’ He held up a hand to stop any argument. ‘In some ways.’

  He indicated her twisting fingers. ‘You’ve done that for as long as I’ve known you. Whenever you’re anxious or nervous.’

  She stopped the action immediately.

  He chuckled. ‘You were considerate and kind when I knew you, and you still are now. It’s why you’re so adept at helping the young women you instruct. It isn’t seduction you teach them, but confidence and self-worth.’ He stepped closer. ‘The Lottie I knew put others before herself, which is what you are doing now by trying to turn me away. Although I won’t let you.’

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head.

  ‘I’m not done telling you about the woman you are now. The woman I love more than the girl I met six years ago. Because you’re correct—you have changed.’

  She swallowed and regarded him with a wary expression.

  ‘You’re a woman now—one who understands obligation above all else,’ he said. ‘You’re a mentor who helps show others how to navigate through difficult waters. Something you had to learn on your own.’ He put the lily in her hands and cradled them with his own. ‘You’re a mother who gave up every part of herself in an effort to save her child.’

  She looked away, but he reached for her chin and gently drew her face back towards him.

  ‘I’m in awe of you, Lottie. In complete and utter awe of how greatly you cared for our daughter.’

  Her eyes searched his, as if she was looking into his soul and finding the truth behind every one of the words he spoke.

  ‘You need to forgive yourself, Lottie,’ he said as gently as he could. ‘Would you do it all over again if you had Lily back and she needed you?’

  She closed her eyes and a single tear ran down her cheek as she nodded.

  ‘I know, my love.’ He ran his thumb over her cheek and wiped away the tear. ‘And that is why you need to forgive yourself. What you did was heroic and selfless.’

  ‘Heroic.’ she scoffed, opening her eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied fiercely. ‘What you did, you did for Lily—for our child. Never was there a purer reason than that of a mother’s love.’

  She shook her head. ‘Your good name—I don’t want you ruined—’

  ‘I sacrificed you once for the sake of my good name.’ Ire rose in Evander at his own youthful impetuousness. ‘And I’m filled with regrets because of it. I will sacrifice anything to have you back in my life, Lottie. And not as my mistress. Not when I can think of no woman worthier of being my Countess.’

  He plucked the ring box from the table, opened the box to reveal the ring that carried so much weight in its tiny stone, and knelt before her. ‘Lottie, my one and only love, will you marry me?’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  This was not the first time Evander had proposed to Lottie, and yet her heart pounded as frantically as if it were. The day before she had been resolved to turn him away. But she hadn’t appreciated how fully he understood who she was. Now she realised he saw her better than she saw herself.

  Heroic.

  That was what he’d called her.

  Never had she thought of herself in such a light. She’d only ever done what was needed.

  He knew about her at her worst, and through his eyes saw her at her best. What was more, he had shown her how to see it as her best as well—as something not filthy, with broken morals, but something made resplendent with the truest form of a mother’s love.

  This was her second chance, and although she’d been inclined to cast it aside he had convinced her to take it.

  And she would.

  She looked down at Evander, kneeling before her, still
handsome with his sharp jaw and deep green eyes, his auburn hair falling over his brow in a boyishly handsome way, and her heart gave in. Without restriction or fear.

  In that instant, she released her concerns and let this be only about them.

  A man and a woman in love.

  She put her fingertips into his hands and nodded.

  His nostrils flared and his eyes widened slightly. ‘Was that a yes?’

  She laughed and nodded. ‘Yes.’

  A squeal came from the other side of the door, followed swiftly by another bout of feigned coughing.

  Evander looked towards the sound with an eyebrow cocked, then turned towards Lottie again, laughing as he leapt to his feet and threw his arms around her. He squeezed her to him and lifted her into the air, so her slippers dangled an inch over the floor.

  After a joyous twirl, he set her down and caught her face in his hands. ‘I love you, Lottie.’

  ‘And I love you, Evander.’ She leaned up towards him and pressed her lips to his.

  He kissed her once, firmly, then gave her a second kiss, and a third. His hand cupped the back of her head and her lips parted in anticipation for the brush of his tongue. They held each other, savouring the freedom of finally giving in to their affection. Not through a need for comfort, but out of love.

  ‘I’ll never let you down again,’ he said between kisses. His forehead rested on hers. ‘I’ll always be here for you. Whenever you need me.’

  ‘I know,’ Lottie said.

  He pulled her to him once more, laying her head against his chest, where she could hear the thud of his strong heartbeat, as fast with delight as hers.

  Out of nowhere, something banged against the door.

  Lottie and Evander started as the doors flew open and Sarah tumbled in with a glass in her hand. She hopped up and looked around, clearly searching for some excuse to offer. Behind her stood Andrews and the cook, both equally as flustered as Sarah.

  ‘Ah, this glass.’ Sarah gave a nervous titter. ‘I found it sitting in front of the door and was just taking it to the kitchen to ensure the scullery maid sees to it.’

  ‘And I thought you’d be bringing it, so I came up to get it.’ Cook gave a flash of a smile and reached for the glass. ‘There was a shortage, and I wanted to be certain...er...that we had enough.’

  Lottie nodded slowly, not believing a word.

  One of Evander’s arms remained around her shoulders.

  ‘Don’t let these two fool you,’ Andrews said airily. ‘They were using it to eavesdrop.’

  Sarah huffed and thrust her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t go acting so high in the instep, Andrews. You started listening too.’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘And if you hadn’t been trying to grab the glass—’

  But Andrews was no longer listening. He pitched the tip of his nose into the air and strode from the wayward group with exactly the ‘high in the instep’ demeanour of which he’d been accused.

  ‘Well, I supposed we needn’t break our wonderful news,’ Lottie said in playful chastisement. ‘As it appears you are already well aware.’

  Sarah gave a wide, eager grin.

  ‘When shall we wed?’ Lottie asked Evander.

  ‘As soon as possible—so you don’t change your mind.’ He winked at her.

  ‘That’s the truth, my lord,’ Sarah piped up, and folded her arms over her ample bosom. ‘I always said Lord Westix was a smart man.’

  Lottie laughed at that. Giddiness flowed through her, leaving her effervescent. ‘How about this Saturday?’

  In truth, she would have wed Evander right then and there. There was something so liberating about finally giving in to her desire to marry him, to love him. It was like throwing off weighted moorings and being left feeling light enough to float away.

  ‘I can ensure the food is done in time,’ Cook offered.

  ‘I can take care of anything else that’s needed,’ Sarah said quickly. ‘And Andrews will be most helpful with whatever might be required of him,’ she called out loudly.

  From somewhere down the hall came a quiet scoff.

  ‘If you’re serious,’ Evander said to Lottie, ‘I can secure a special licence in two days.’

  ‘That would leave us with two days to spare in the event of any delay,’ Lottie mused aloud.

  ‘There won’t be a moment of delay.’ Evander cocked a brow.

  ‘That’s four days until we’re wed.’

  Evander furrowed his brow in an exaggeration of mock concern. ‘What will people say?’

  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 i
n 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.’

  Evander lifted a shoulder in a partial shrug. ‘It’s nothing I can’t weather.’

  ‘You’ll protect her from it?’

  Evander tilted his head in question at Charles’ seriousness. ‘That goes without saying.’

  Charles exhaled a mirthless chuckle. ‘You love her. I know you do. God knows, she did her best to shove you away, and you kept coming back. I admire your tenacity—I do.’

  ‘I would do anything for her.’

  Charles nodded and glanced up the aisle to the closed door, where Lottie would soon be making her entrance. ‘I dare say I haven’t ever seen her as exuberant as she has been these last few days. Not since we were children.’

  Evander was grinning. He knew it and he didn’t care. Let all the world know how joyful the woman he was soon to wed made him.

  Charles stepped closer and put a hand on Evander’s shoulder. The friendly look in his eyes turned hard. He looked first to the door of the church once more, then back to Evander, and squeezed hard.

  ‘I swear on my mother’s grave,’ Charles ground out, ‘if you ever hurt her again, I will ensure you disappear once more. Only this time you’ll never return.’

  Before Evander could react, the doors opened and Lord and Lady Dalton entered, with Lady Caroline and Lady Alice. Charles released Evander at once and smiled congenially as he waved to them with the hand he’d used to threaten Evander.

 

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