As the days pressed onward, Evander was grateful to see Lottie remained blissfully unaware of what had transpired with the friends and associates of himself and his mother. And at night he held Lottie in his arms as they continued to make up for the six years that had kept their love at bay.
In the meantime, Huntly Manor was being prepared for their upcoming stay of a fortnight. Lottie’s staff from her townhouse had been sent there, to organise its cleaning and supervise some much-needed renovations. The process was taking longer than anticipated, but the house would be ready in a week’s time.
In the meantime, Eleanor was to host a ball at Somersville Place—one of the few she and Charles bothered with, given their frequent trips abroad. And although the invitations did not state its purpose, Eleanor told Evander it was to be a celebration of his union to Lottie.
Which meant there was no choice but to accept happily.
It would be their first official social event as man and wife. Fortunately, the attendees would be made up of friends, ensuring prejudice would not be able to infringe upon their enjoyment.
While Evander knew it was only a matter of time before they encountered people who would not welcome Lottie, he would have her rest easy in ignorance for as long as possible.
Time flew by when one was in love, and the night of the ball arrived swiftly. Lottie was a sight to behold in the new sapphire necklace and earbobs he’d given her, with a Spitalfields silk gown in patterns of the same vivid, deep blue, trimmed with slashes of white satin at her sleeves. Her most lovely adornment, however, was her smile—the one that had not left her lips since they’d exchanged vows.
Upon their arrival at Somersville Place, Evander’s mother was introduced by the caller first, as the Dowager Countess of Westix, which meant he and Lottie were next. She stiffened at his side.
‘No need be nervous,’ he said softly. ‘You’re a countess.’
She glanced anxiously towards him, her smile faltering, and he could read the concern in her eyes. He covered her hand where it rested at the crook of his elbow.
‘You are surrounded by friends here, my love,’ he reminded her.
The caller announced them as the Earl and Countess of Westix and they strode into the room. Everyone turned their attention towards them and applause broke out, echoing over the polished hardwood floors and high ceilings.
To his delight, Lottie broke into a wide smile as she recognised so many of the faces around them.
‘They’re here to celebrate us,’ he said in her ear.
Those standing on the dance floor moved aside as the first notes of a waltz began.
Evander extended a hand to his wife, ‘May I have this dance, my love?’
She put her gloved hand into his and he led her out to the dance floor. He slid his hand around her slender waist, holding her as closely as one could hold one’s wife during the waltz.
‘Have I told you how beautiful you look?’ he asked as they began to twirl across the floor together.
‘Only a dozen times.’
She gave a lovely laugh that made his heart soar.
‘Perhaps I shall tell you three dozen more times before we return home, then.’
‘And will you not find me beautiful when we return home?’ she teased, with that playful banter he’d always found so enticing.
‘Quite the contrary,’ he replied. ‘But then, instead of telling you, I can show you.’
Her cheeks flushed as they twirled by one of the other couples who had joined them on the dance floor.
After a magical time, the music wound down to a close.
‘Thank you for a wonderful waltz, husband,’ Lottie said with a curtsey as he bowed.
‘I assure you, my love, the pleasure was all mine.’
He saw her from the dance floor, and Eleanor greeted her with eagerness.
‘It warms my heart see you both looking so happy,’ Eleanor effused.
‘Thank you for hosting this ball—even though it isn’t supposed to be for us,’ Evander said with a wink.
Eleanor laughed. ‘Saying it was for you would have been far too much pressure.’
Lottie offered her a grateful smile. ‘It’s truly lovely, Eleanor. Thank you.’
But Eleanor waved her off. ‘Come, you must try this cake. Violet says she’s never had anything more decadent in her life.’
Lottie flashed a grin at Evander before she was whisked away.
Lord Kentworth approached him half a second later, a nearly finished drink in his hand. Evander was certain the glass did not contain lemonade, despite its innocent appearance.
‘I daresay I’ve never seen you smile quite this much before,’ Kentworth said.
Evander looked after his stunning wife with a pride that made his chest swell. ‘I’ve waited a long time for her.’
‘Was she worth it?’ Kentworth studied him for a moment, then straightened. ‘Judging by your face, I would say she was.’
‘When can we expect you to wed, Kentworth?’ Evander turned back to his friend.
The other man scoffed. ‘No one wants this drunken lout for a husband, any more than I want a nagging wife. I’ll be fine as I am, with my late-night jaunts and the like.’ He lifted his brows in a suggestive manner. ‘Though I did want to ask you about your mining investment. I hear it’s becoming quite lucrative...’
Evander tried to hide his surprise. ‘I didn’t realise you were interested in investments.’
‘I dally from time to time.’ Kentworth lifted a shoulder. ‘We’ve spoken on it before, I believe. After you returned from your travels.’
Had they? Evander prodded his memory. Ah, yes, there it was.
How shameful that he had forgotten and Kentworth had remembered. But now that he considered the chum he’d gone to university with so many years ago, he noticed how the other man’s eyes were clear, his cheeks not yet flushed.
Clearly he was on his first drink of the night, and Kentworth always was a different man without liquor.
‘I’m afraid,’ Evander replied, ‘it would appear my fellow investors found my current lifestyle rather disagreeable and we have parted ways.’
Kentworth’s eyes narrowed shrewdly and Evander knew he understood to what he referred.
‘That’s rather unfortunate,’ he replied.
‘Indeed.’ Evander kept his face blank in the hopes Kentworth wouldn’t see how even the recollection tugged at his ire. ‘However, prior to our parting of ways it was a profitable investment. One I’d recommend for certain.’
‘I do hope that one disagreeable reaction is all you’ll encounter.’ Kentworth took a sip of his drink. ‘The ton can be rather judgmental.’
‘Rather, indeed.’ Evander sighed. ‘Unfortunately, my mother has lost a long-time acquaintance. Someone she once considered a friend.’
Kentworth nodded, his brow wrinkled. ‘You truly do care for your wife. I hope she appreciates how far your love extends.’
Evander’s eyes found Lottie in the crowd, where she stood with Violet and Eleanor, the three of them laughing and smiling.
‘I’m certain she does.’
‘What the deuce?’ Kentworth stiffened, his focus pinpointing a tall, older gentleman who wove through the crowd. ‘Who would possibly have invited Lord Finsby?’
Evander lifted a brow as he searched his memory. ‘Lord Finsby? Was he not an associate of my father and the late Duke of Somersville?’
Kentworth continued to study the curious man with an affronted frown. ‘Yes—and one of your wife’s former protectors.’
The words slammed hard into Evander’s chest with an impact that nearly made him stagger back. ‘I beg your pardon?’
He kept his gaze fixed on the man who continued to walk towards something with purpose. Or perhaps someone. He was older than him. Quite old, in fact. Although his snow-white hair was still thick and brushed regally to the side, and his attire as stately as any other gentleman in the room. He strode without a limp nor the aid of a cane, appearing as hearty and hale as a man half his age.
Kentworth uttered a low curse. ‘Forgive me, Westix. Usually Rawley is here to keep me from saying everything that’s in my head.’ He gulped down the remainder of his drink in one great swallow. ‘I didn’t mean—’ He grimaced. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’
But Evander was scarcely listening to Kentworth. His entire attention was fixed on Lord Finsby, who was now only a few feet away from Lottie, his gaze locked with purpose.
There was no mistaking whom he intended to see.
Lottie popped the last bit of cake into her mouth. It was moist, with a thin layer of sugar over the top that seemed to melt upon her tongue and leave the slightest hint of rose. Violet was correct. It was perhaps the best Lottie had ever tasted.
Violet and Eleanor left to go to the retiring room as Lottie finished her cake. She’d turned to glance about the room, in the hopes of finding Evander, when her gaze settled on an entirely different familiar face.
Lord Finsby.
A torrent of memories rushed at her in that instant. The times they’d stayed up far too late talking, the laughter they’d shared, the fears he’d assuaged. Of all her protectors, he was the only one she’d told about Lily. The only one she’d told about Evander.
Lord Finsby hadn’t been in the market for a lover. Not like her other benefactors. He’d simply wanted a companion—someone who understood him and with whom he could speak without rebuke or judgment. It was his personal physician who had seen to Lily the night her breathing went so terribly wrong. And when Lord Finsby departed for a trip that would keep him in Italy for some time, he left her with ownership of the townhouse in Bloomsbury and a stipend to see her settled until she obtained a new protector.
‘Lady Westix.’ He inclined his head respectfully towards her.
‘Lord Finsby,’ she said, with genuine delight.
‘You look well, my dear.’ His kind brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. ‘Better than well, in fact. You’re glowing with joy. I see miracles do happen and the fates have returned your love to you.’ He nodded, more to himself than to her. ‘Marriage becomes you.’
‘Thank you.’ She couldn’t help smiling at his praise. ‘It appears your travels have done you some good. I trust you are well?’
‘Quite, my dear, and it is so kind of you to ask.’ He puffed out his chest. ‘I too have found love.’
Lottie clasped her hands to her chest. ‘Oh, Lord Finsby, that’s wonderful.’
‘She is widowed, like myself, and has the joie de vivre of someone half our age.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘You would adore her.’
Lottie glanced about. ‘Is she here? I’d love to meet her.’
‘Alas, she’s in Venice still. I’m only here briefly on business.’ He nodded towards Charles, who was standing some distance away. ‘I saw Charles yesterday and he mentioned the ball and asked if I’d like to come.’
‘I’m so glad you did,’ Lottie said. ‘It is good to see you.’
He bowed to her, maintaining the proper amount of distance between them, no doubt out of consideration and to ensure no one misconstrued their meeting. ‘Likewise. It is truly wonderful to see you so happy.’
‘Safe travels back to Italy.’
With a final nod of his head, he departed.
Only then did it cross Lottie’s mind that perhaps they ought not to have spoken so openly. Perhaps those with long memories might question her loyalty to Evander. Even those who were friends.
She glanced around, seeking out her husband, and her gaze settled on Lady Caroline and Lord Rawley, dancing. Both appeared lost in one another, their gazes locked even as the dance pulled them away.
Violet appeared at Lottie’s side, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Oh, I’ve just heard the most wonderful news from Seth,’ she said.
Lottie turned to Violet and Eleanor, who looked at one another and grinned.
‘Lord Rawley has asked to speak with Seth.’
Surely that didn’t mean...?
Lottie sucked in a gasp.
‘Yes.’ Violet bounced on her toes. ‘We suspect Lord Rawley will finally ask for Caroline’s hand in marriage.’
‘Oh, I truly hope that is the case,’ Lottie said wistfully.
‘As do I.’ Violet shook her head with a little laugh. ‘I remember last autumn we thought he’d finally ask to court her, but he’d simply come to ensure there wouldn’t be any shrimp at a ball we were hosting. So when he finally asked to court our dear Caroline, we were beside ourselves with joy.’
Lottie remembered exactly how elated they had all been.
She didn’t see Caroline or Lord Rawley for lessons any more. In fact, she didn’t see any of her students. Well, none except for Alice, whom she could not bring herself to let go when the woman was still in such need of her own blissful future. And Alice wasn’t even considered a student any longer. Now she was a friend and payment was no longer accepted.
It had been difficult to inform some students of the termination of their lessons upon Lottie’s marriage to Evander. However, parting with others—like the daughters of Lady Norrick and Lady Cotsworth—had admittedly given her a little thrill of pleasure. Indeed, it was delightful not to have to see some of the more entitled whelps of the ton any longer.
Lottie had the sudden nagging sensation of being watched from across the room. She looked about and found Evander on the other side of the dance floor, regarding her.
‘Forgive me, ladies,’ Lottie said. ‘I see my husband.’
Eleanor flicked a glance to the right. ‘I was just planning to lure Charles out for a dance.’
Violet waved at both of them. ‘Do go on. I’ll find Seth. I fancy a dance myself. I love my darling Juliette, but these nights of being with my husband are the ones I do cherish.’
Lottie squeezed her hand affectionately. It was still difficult for Lottie to hear of Violet’s new daughter. Guilt niggled deep in her heart every time there was a mention of the babe. She couldn’t hear about the little girl and not think of her own Lily.
Quickly, Lottie strode away. She was navigating around the dance floor when someone caught her by the elbow. She spun to see Lord Kentworth.
He bowed. ‘Forgive me, Lady Westix.’
‘Of course.’ She turned to go, but he pulled gently at her arm once more.
‘I require an audience with you.’ The lemonade in his hand was nearly empty, and smelled very strongly of spirits. ‘Now, if possible.’
‘By all means.’ She tilted her head patiently and waited for him to say what he wished.
No doubt it was something about Rawley and his relationship with Lady Caroline. She knew poor Kentworth was feeling rather out in the cold without his usual companion at his side. Rawley had made mention of it on several occasions—the fear that he was abandoning his closest friend. What was more, Rawley had confessed that he’d told Kentworth about his lessons with her. She wouldn’t put it past the Marquess to mention it—especially when he was clearly in his cups.
‘Is this about Lord Rawley?’ Lottie asked.
Kentworth furrowed his brow. ‘Lord Rawley?’ He shook his head determinedly. ‘No, no—of course not.’ He leaned closer and said, ‘Though what you’ve managed to do with the stodgy sod has been a bloody miracle.’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ Lottie replied warily, uncertain where this conversation might go. ‘It’s good to see him happy.’
Kentworth grunted and drained his glass.
‘Perhaps you’ve had a bit too much lemonade?’ she suggested.
‘I assure you I haven’t had nearly enough.’ Kentworth curled his fingers more tightly around the glass, as though he was worried she might try to prise it from his grasp. ‘I came to see you about Westix.’
‘My husband?’
Kentworth gave a hard nod. ‘Yes. I want you to know that the man has spoken of no one but you for years.’
He exaggerated the last word. So much so that the liquor he’d added to his lemonade now emanated from his mouth in a hot wash of alcohol.
Lottie offered him a patient smile. ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’
Kentworth lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. ‘Truly, I want to ensure you understand how much he loves you.’
Lottie gave a little laugh. ‘That is kind of you.’
‘I’ve never seen a man so willing to put aside so much scorn.’ Kentworth chortled, and tried to drink once more, frowning when he found his glass empty.
Lottie’s stomach rolled over on itself. ‘I beg your pardon?’
Kentworth scoffed. ‘Closed-minded snobs of the ton. You know how they can be.’
‘I’m afraid I’m not certain what you’re talking about,’ Lottie said slowly.
‘Westix was in a lucrative mining investment.’ Kentworth pulled a flask from his pocket and put a finger to his lips as he poured something clear into his glass beneath the cover of his jacket. ‘As soon as they found out he’d married you, they refused to do business with him.’
Lottie stiffened. Evander hadn’t mentioned anything of the matter.
Kentworth screwed the top back onto his flask and deposited it into his jacket pocket once more. ‘Apparently even his mother is learning not all of her friends are loyal.’ He took a large sip from the glass without so much as a wince. ‘They’ve begun to leave her side as well.’
Lottie’s heart crumpled in her chest. ‘I see,’ she said breathlessly, suddenly finding it hard to draw in air.
‘Do you, now?’ Kentworth nodded, as though he’d proven a point. ‘The man loves you more than any man has ever loved a woman. I thought you ought to know the extent of it.’
Lottie blinked at him, uncertain what to say. ‘Thank you,’ she said at last.
He beamed a smile at her. ‘Lady Westix, my dear, you are most welcome.’
With that, he staggered off, with the clear assumption he truly had done some good that night.
She remained where she was for a long moment, her mind spinning over what she had learned.
Evander and his mother had suffered because of their marriage.
They had accepted her, and loved her, and paid a hefty price.
Her throat felt too thick, the room too hot and suffocating.
How was it that even here, in a sea of friends, she still felt as though she was drowning?