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Chapter Four

‘Not the watercolours, Lottie. And only one satchel, you heard Mr Dyvelston.’ Lottie’s mother hurried into the room where Lottie sat packing. ‘You will need a complete new wardrobe now that you are married. I dare say that he plans to buy it. It is the best way.’

Lottie tucked the watercolours and brushes into her bag. The first words her mother had said to her were a complaint. ‘I heard Mr Dyvelston the first time, Mama, and I intend to paint on my wedding trip. I am being practical.’

‘You have dashed all my hopes and plans for your future.’ Her mother gave a loud sniff. ‘And now all you can talk of is painting. Have you no consideration for my nerves? For what you have done to your brother? To me? You were supposed to wed a titled man. It was to be the culmination of everything.’

‘I am getting married, Mama. He is connected to a title.’

‘Yes, but will anyone know? I should never have let Sir Geoffrey sway me. I should have insisted on a proper marriage.’ Her mother buried her face in a handkerchief. ‘Lucy warned me that you would come to a bad end with your tricks and you have. You are a lucky woman that Mr Dyvelston turned out to be a gentleman. Goodness knows what you were thinking…Sir Geoffrey had made an offer for you. How could you do this to me?’

Lottie slammed another pair of stockings into the satchel. She refused to dignify her mother’s remark with a reply.

‘Well, Carlotta, what do you have to say for yourself? How can you explain away what you did? The man has no title, nothing to recommend him. Why did you kiss him?’

‘You were quite prepared to marry me off to Jack Stanton.’

‘Lottie, you ungrateful child!’ Her mother gave a sharp intake of breath, went white and she waved her hand in front of her face, choking. ‘My medicine, Lottie.’