Nothing made the press of heartache greater than witnessing new young love.
The next day Lottie sat opposite Lady Caroline, whose dark eyes glowed with joy.
‘He had this ingenious shirt with the steps of the dance. Not only did he not miss a single step, he asked me to dance the next cotillion set with him.’
‘I’m so pleased to hear it,’ Lottie said. And truly she was. It warmed her to know her gift yielded such impact.
She had been like Lady Caroline once—innocent and hopeful, her entire self given to the idea of love. And, happy for the young woman, she could not help but remember when she too had gloried in the throes of first love. The world had seemed so perfect then, as if all the pieces had fallen perfectly into place.
‘He’s already asked when my next ball is,’ Lady Caroline said. ‘I believe he actually enjoyed himself.’ She shifted forward on the settee and her dark curls bounced with the movement. ‘I want your counsel on an idea.’
‘An idea?’ Lottie gave her a curious look.
Lady Caroline’s suggestions were often subtle, yet clear enough to determine. By most people, that was. Seldom by Lord Rawley, unfortunately. It wasn’t that he was a stupid man. Quite the opposite. He was extraordinarily intelligent. But Lord Rawley was the sensitive sort—not so much in how he took other’s remarks, but in regard to his consideration towards others.
His father had passed away when he was barely out of the nursery, and as a result his mother doted on him. Perhaps that was why he was so perceptive in reading others, and overly careful in how he treated them—women, especially.
The Viscount was a man who took his responsibility seriously and had a care not to give in to the same vices as most of his peers. There was no excessive drinking or gambling or whoring for him. And, while it made him the ideal husband, it made for a frustrating man in the courting game.
Which was how poor Lady Caroline had ended up on Lottie’s settee. She was beautiful, with dark eyes and hair like her brother, Lord Dalton. Any man would have been all too eager to wed her. But she didn’t want any of them. Her heart was set on Lord Rawley.
‘I want to encourage him to kiss me,’ Lady Caroline said with a gleeful lift of her shoulders. ‘Perhaps if I invite him onto the veranda when no one else is there...’ A shrewd expression replaced her delight and she appeared to gauge Lottie’s reaction.
Lottie lifted a brow, preferring Lady Caroline to admit the unlikelihood of her scheme actually working rather than having to say it herself.
Lady Caroline sighed. ‘I know he won’t do it. But what if I kiss him?’ The gleam was back in her eyes.
‘Have a care for your reputation,’ Lottie cautioned. ‘It would be preferable if he was courting you first.’
At that, Lady Caroline beamed.
Lottie gasped. ‘Do you mean...?’
Lady Caroline squealed in a very unladylike manner. ‘He spoke with my brother this very afternoon. Seth told me he was practically melting with sweat, the poor dear.’ An endearing smile widened on her face. ‘He said Lord Rawley asked if he might court me. When I asked Seth what he said in reply...’ She giggled behind her hand. ‘He told me he replied, “It’s about bloody time. Please do, by all means.”’
Lottie laughed along with Lady Caroline, and went to the sweet young woman to embrace her. ‘I’m so very happy for you. Perhaps that kiss isn’t too far off, then. But mind you are still careful.’
‘Most certainly,’ Lady Caroline vowed with seriousness. ‘And what of you?’
The question took Lottie aback. ‘Me?’
‘You and your handsome hero,’ Lady Caroline prompted. ‘We all saw Lord Westix punch Lord Devonington at the ball. I wager most men have wanted to put their fist in that man’s face a time or two. And he did. For you. If that isn’t romantic, I dare say I don’t know what is.’
‘I... I...’ Lottie stammered.
‘And I hear he sends you flowers once a week.’ Lady Caroline glanced at the irises and white tulips, sitting beside a bundle of pink roses. ‘Eleanor told me.’
‘It isn’t like that between us.’ Lottie shook her head. ‘It can’t be. I would never be accepted among the ton.’ Her cheeks went hot as the familiar blanket of humiliation fell over her.
‘You already have been. By me, Violet, Eleanor—and all the other ladies you have taken the time to instruct. Fie to the rest of them, I say.’
‘We thought to wed once,’ Lottie admitted. ‘But we were young. I was...different.’
‘A second chance at love, then?’ Lady Caroline pressed her hands to the crimson velvet bodice of her gown and gave a wistful sigh. ‘Now, that is terribly romantic. Like Lady Alice.’
‘You don’t mean with Lord Ledsey, do you?’ Lottie tried to keep the scowl from her face. The Earl really was terribly despicable.
Lady Caroline recoiled in horror. ‘Heavens, no. I mean her soldier—George.’
Lottie had received notice from Lady Alice earlier that day, begging off her lessons with a message that she would explain later. Perhaps a miracle had happened.
‘Is he home?’ Lottie asked in disbelief.
‘Yes,’ Lady Caroline breathed. ‘Isn’t it a marvel?’
Indeed, it was. And Lottie was overjoyed that her student would be able to recapture her lost love. The topic of the returned soldier was also a fortunate way for Lottie to brush aside any of Lady Caroline’s concern for herself and put the focus back on encouraging Lord Rawley’s affections. Hopefully their courtship would soon turn to marriage and a lifetime of happiness.
Following Lady Caroline’s lesson, Lottie retired early, sitting before the vanity as she readied herself for bed.
Silky bumped her head against Lottie’s ankles. Just as she bent to stroke her cat, Sarah approached, regarding her through the reflection in the mirror.
‘I wasn’t listening in, but I did overhear what Lady Caroline said as I was passing by about taking a second chance at love. You know how I feel.’
‘I do,’ Lottie replied. ‘And I’m still cross with you.’
Sarah folded her arms over her chest in the stubborn way she exhibited from time to time. ‘Better you be cross with me and find happiness rather than be merely content and remain sad and lonely.’
Lottie straightened and turned to look at the maid. ‘He wants to go to the cottage.’
‘Of course he does.’ Sarah gently shifted Lottie’s shoulders forward and dislodged the jewelled comb from Lottie’s hair. ‘He’s seeking a connection with Lily, and the cottage is the best way he can find it.’
Lottie, of course, knew this already. She remained quiet in contemplation as Sarah slid free her hairpins and Lottie’s dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders.
‘Think of it this way.’ Slowly Sarah began to brush out Lottie’s long tresses. ‘If he had been there with Lily and you hadn’t, how would you feel?’
Lottie pulled in breath.
Sarah smirked. ‘Precisely.’
‘I fear returning will recall all my previous anger,’ Lottie said, twisting her hands in her lap. ‘If that rage should resurface, I don’t know that my heart could ever open again.’
‘You owe it to yourself to find out.’ Sarah swept the brush down the full length of Lottie’s hair. ‘And you owe it to him. That man has been loyal to you for six years. He has returned time and again, no matter how many times you push him away.’
Lottie exhaled on a long, deep sigh. ‘You’re meddlesome—do you know that?’
‘You’re welcome, lovey.’ Sarah grinned at her in the mirror.
Lottie glanced at her maid over her shoulder. ‘Please bring me some stationery.’
Sarah set the brush down with a smidgen too much delight. ‘With pleasure.’
Despite Sarah’s happiness at her decision, Lottie’s pen still hesitated over the parchment. Whatever happened at the cottage stood either to fully unite them or tear them apart for ever. There would be nothing in between.
The wealth in Evander’s accounts had grown exponentially. His investment with the mine had been sound.
Granted, he shouldn’t care about money at this point. But that was the thing about having once been without a fortune—one was always in terrible fear of losing it again.
The return gained from the mines, and all his other investments, was security. It would ensure his mother was always well cared for and that he would never have to leave Lottie again. Not that he would ever make such an error.
Lily.
The little name had become something of a chant in his mind, like a sorrowful cry, or even a prayer of sorts. He leaned back in his seat and sipped his brandy, though the liquor did scant good to ease the burden in his chest.
Going to the cottage had been a recurring thought as well. He’d come to the conclusion that if Lottie would not accompany him, he would go alone. If nothing else, he owed it to Lily.
He downed another swallow of brandy.
‘Evander, you wished to see me?’
His mother entered the room, elegant in an emerald silk gown that made her eyes look as bright as the gem. Her hair, once gold and now more silver, was twisted back from her regal face. She was thinner, after having been ill, but just as strong as ever.
Her gaze skimmed his open account book. ‘Am I correct in presuming you haven’t called me in here to discuss your investments?’
‘You are.’
‘Thank heavens.’ Using her gold-topped cane—a new device, following her ailment—she lowered herself to a chair.
‘Shall I send for some tea?’
‘I also presumed your refreshments would be limited to libations no woman ought to consume, and took the liberty of ordering myself a tray.’ A knock sounded at the door and she turned with a smile. ‘Ah, there it is now.’
After they each had a cup of tea in front of them, his unadulterated and hers with two fat lumps of sugar, they could finally settle to the matter at hand.
‘When I returned home for Father’s funeral, did I mention my engagement to Lottie?’ He lifted the cup of piping hot liquid to his lips. That was how he liked it best—while it was only tolerably sippable.
‘You did not,’ Lady Westix said with certainty. ‘I know this because I was shocked when you mentioned it upon your return from travelling abroad.’
He deflated somewhat, at this confirmation of how terribly he had fallen short on his commitment to Lottie...
His mother took a sip of her tea, swallowed it and set the cup back in its saucer with a delicate clink. ‘Surely that was not all you wished to ask me?’
This was the most difficult part. But he had to know that there wouldn’t have been any alternative available.
He shifted in his seat. ‘If a woman of little means were to have come to you while I was away on my travels, stating that she was my fiancée and required assistance, would you have aided her?’
‘I would like to say that I would.’ Lady Westix stirred her tea thoughtfully. ‘But, cold-hearted as it may be, I would more likely have turned her out.’
‘Even if...’ He hesitated. His mother did not need to know all of this.
‘Even if?’ She gave a soft sigh. ‘Truly, please stop treating me as though I’m some fragile, breakable thing. I’m far stronger than I seem.’
Except she looked scarcely strong enough to withstand a stiff breeze.
‘Even if she’d had a child with her?’ Evander finished.
Lady Westix straightened, her face lighting up.
Evander shook his head swiftly and she wilted with understanding.
Lady Westix looked down at her tea, her lips pursed. ‘I’m afraid I would have considered it a ruse to get at our assumed wealth. It wouldn’t be the first time fortune-hunters had set upon nobility. And during that time I was particularly shrewd.’
Evander nodded in understanding. Lottie had known his own mother better than he.
Lady Westix reached a hand across the desk towards Evander. ‘Losing a child is one of the hardest fates a woman can suffer.’
He stretched towards her, taking it, her fingers cool and dry in his, blue veins evident beneath her translucent skin.
‘If what you say has merit, Evander,’ she said, ‘I too owe a debt to Lottie.’
‘You may well have the opportunity to make good on that debt. I mean to marry her, and most of the ton will not approve.’
His mother’s hand tightened around his. ‘I’ve played by their rules long enough. I told you before—if you love her, you should not stop fighting for her. And I meant it. I stand by your side, son. I stand with Lottie.’
Evander gave his mother a grateful smile.
A knock sounded at the door. ‘Forgive me, my lord,’ said Edmonds. ‘But a missive has arrived for you.’
‘Enter.’ Evander released his mother’s hand and straightened.
Edmonds crossed the room with a salver and extended it to Evander. He immediately recognised Lottie’s looping handwriting, which addressed the envelope to him.
‘Excuse me,’ he said to his mother, accepting the letter and cracking its seal.
He unfolded it, revealing the single line that made his heart leap.
I will accompany you to the cottage.