Page 3 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
Eventually, she returned to her chamber, firmly shutting the door behind her. She was so weary; all that she wanted to do was lie down and drift into sleep. But she couldn’t do that yet. First, she had to write a letter and inform her parents as to what had happened. She only had fourteen days before she had to leave this house.
She sat down at the desk, dipping the quill in the inkpot. Her bottom lip trembled as she began to write, her hand racing across the parchment.
Dear Papa and Mama,
I write to you with a heavy heart. Something most grievous has occurred, which I am still trying to process. I find that I need your help.
Frank, my husband, has deserted me. I woke up this morning to a brief note, saying that he could not stay married to me. More than that, a solicitor arrived on my doorstep, informing me that he sold the house a week ago. I have only fourteen days before I must vacate the premises before the new owners take possession.
To say that I am shocked by the brutality of these events is an understatement. That my new husband could have been so callous, so cruel, simply takes my breath away. I am trying very hard to keep functioning, but it is all becoming so very hard. I simply do not know what to do.
Please, can you come to me, and assist me?
Your loving daughter,
Henrietta
She folded the letter, sealing it. She would take it to Dickinson, soon,and he would make sure that it was sent. But she couldn’t do it right now. Her limbs felt so heavy she didn’t even know how she would walk to the bed.
She sat at the desk for a long time, staring at the wall before dragging herself across the room and collapsing on the bed.
She curled herself into a ball, her shoulders heaving. Hot, salty tears streamed down her face. She sobbed, piteously, letting out all of the pain and confusion of the morning. It felt cathartic, almost cleansing.
She couldn’t deny the truth any longer. Frank had never wanted to marry her – or not for herself, at any rate. All of his charm had been a front. She recalled all the times he had complimented her, saying she was beautiful and so very clever. How much he was looking forward to making her his wife. All lies.
She sobbed harder, staring down at her hand, where her new wedding band gleamed gold. It was important to him that she was legally his wife. So, it had all been for her dowry. He had wanted her money, that was all.
The nest egg her father had been keeping for her to assure her protection throughout her life. She knew that it had already been released to Frank. As soon as he had it, he had enacted his plan, setting the wheels in motion.
She was disgraced, an abandoned wife, without even a roof over her head. A wave of pure anger swept through her. She hated him, more than she hated anyone in her life. Better that he had died than done this. Better that he had left her a widow, than this. At least there was honour in being a widow. At least she would have status, even if she would still have been an object of pity.
She sobbed, shaking with rage. She had trusted a man, a charming man, who had promised her the world. And now, her life was lying in ashes around her.
I will never trust a man again,she vowed, as another wave of anger threatened to choke her.I will never put my life in the hands of a man again except for my father.
She curled up into a tighter ball, repeating the vow to herself as if it were a prayer.
Chapter 2
Hetty sat in the corner of the room as her mother moved around the space, huffing as she packed her trunk. The older lady’s chin wobbled with disbelief as she carefully folded the gowns, and Hetty could see that her hands were shaking.
“My poor daughter,” she breathed, pausing to look at Hetty. “To think that he has done this to you! The shame of it!”
Hetty’s heart twisted. She didn’t know whether she felt better that her parents were finally here. They had arrived just this morning, two days after she had sent her letter to them, informing them of her dire situation. They had swept into the house, taking control.
At first, she had been relieved. But now, it was as if their presence was underlining it was real. Her shame, and the scandal, that she was about to be enveloped in.
Her father had been curt, as was his habit, and immediately sprang into practical action. He was out in Derrington now, arranging for the sale of all the household furniture. He had already been to see Mr Baldwin, the solicitor, to confirm the sale of the house. He had been tight-lipped with anger when he had returned from that meeting.
And now, her mother was helping Hetty pack her clothes. They were taking her back to Hillsworth House, their country estate, first thingin the morning. They had informed her that it was happening, and she hadn’t put up any argument. She felt that she was simply riding a wave, a passive thing, being swept away by circumstances beyond her control.
Her mother mumbled under her breath, returning to the packing. She held up a gown in her arms, her lips thinning.
“Part of your trousseau,” she said, shaking her head. “Along with so many of these new gowns. How can it be that only weeks ago we were at the dressmakers getting these made.” She paused, staring at Hetty again. “You were so happy. I was so happy, thinking of my only daughter, married at last. And now, it is a whole sorry mess. I do not know what to make of it at all.”
Hetty took a deep breath. “I do not know what to make of it either, Mama. It is far worse for me than it is for you.” Her heart started to pound in her chest, and she felt a sick wave of shame wash over her. “I am ruined now. Frank has abandoned me. I have no home of my own. How do you think I feel? I am disgraced.”
“Oh, Hetty,” said her mother, tears springing into her eyes. “I did not mean to be insensitive, my dearest. I just feel so affronted, on your behalf.” She sighed deeply. “We were all hoodwinked by Frank Blackmore. He comes from a good family, and there was no indication he was the rake he turned out to be. How could any of us have known that this would happen?”
