Page 27 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
“At least you know,” he said, in a quiet voice. “At least you have the reason, now, why he did what he did. It does not make it any less painful to bear, but it clears up a few questions.”
“Indeed,” said Hetty, her eyes flashing. “I simply have no idea why he condescended to finally write to me to inform me of it. Perhaps he does have a small conscience after all. Perhaps he wants absolution from me, for what he has done. Confession does ease the soul, after all.”
Louis frowned. “Hetty, I know how painful this is for you,” he said. “But it means that you can move on.” He gazed at her closely. “Please tell me that you have not destroyed the letter. It is proof of his permanent desertion and that he was calculated in what he did to you. We can present it as evidence to the court when the time comes.”
Hetty smiled faintly. “Oh, believe me, I have not destroyed it,” she replied. “I made that mistake with the note that he left me at our house, hurling it into the fire, in my pain and rage.” She took a deep breath. “I am keeping this one. It is in a very safe place, and Ishallpresent it as evidence if the court decides ever to grant me a hearing.”
He squeezed her hand. “It will happen,” he declared fervently. “The wheels of the process are slow turning, but I am confident, as you should be, as well. We shall make Frank Blackmore pay for what he has done to you. But more than that, you shall be a free woman again, Hetty.”
She gazed at him, her eyes filling with tears. “How could he have done it to me?” she whispered, in anguish. “How could he have been so mercenary as to marry me just for my money, all the while knowing that he was going to discard me like a used rag?”
“There are no words for such a man,” he said, his face darkening with anger. “He has no honour. To treat you in such a cavalier fashion … when you deserve the world … when you are the epitome of loveliness, in a woman…”
He was so close to her now. He could smell the scent of her hair; a lemony fragrance, wafting up towards him, so very inviting. He could pull her into his arms so easily. A mere slight tug and she would be encircled within them …
But at that moment, the maid arrived, carrying the tea tray. He stepped back, away from her, severing the connection between them.
It wasn’t time, yet. And now she was wounded anew. Would Frank Blackmore’s declaration sever completely the fragile bond that they had established? The bond that he had worked so hard to build between them?
***
Later that day, they walked together through the gardens, her dog attheir heels. She was silent and subdued. He could tell that her mind was very far away.
“Shall we go further?” he asked quietly. “To the apple tree again?”
She sighed. “As you wish.”
Della yelped delightedly when he opened the back gate, sprinting off over the field. They walked in further silence towards the large tree. It had shed the majority of its fruit, the apples lying on the ground around it, rotting. But there were still a few on the tree, and he reached up now, picking two.
He handed one to her, and they sat down, side by side, leaning against the trunk. The broken wooden seat of the swing was still lying on the ground, in exactly the same position. Vividly, he remembered when she had crashed to earth, and he had rushed to her, concerned she had hurt herself. And then, to his surprise, she had started laughing. The sound of it still reverberated in his head.
Hetty stared at her apple, contemplating it as if it might hold the answers to the meaning of life. “I will never be free of him, will I?” she asked quietly. “The court will never grant me a divorce. That man will haunt me forever.”
“You do not know that,” he said, gazing at her, feeling uneasy. “The court moves slowly, as I said before. Have faith, Hetty. Itwillhappen.”
She shook her head. “No, I do not think it will,” she said, in a small voice. “I am enough of a realist to know that.” She paused, gazing over the landscape with sad eyes. “If Frank was petitioning for the divorce, and I was the one who had deserted him, carrying on with a lover, then they would quickly grant it. But the fact thatheis the one who has done it all, makes a huge difference. The law does not regard a man’s infidelity the same way as it regards a woman’s. There are separate rules for each sex.”
He was silent for a moment, his heart sinking. She was speaking the truth. The law was very forgiving of a man’s infidelity to his lawfully wedded wife, almost condoning it. A woman was expected to be faithful, though, as so much was at stake through it. If a woman was unfaithful during her marriage, then the question of a child’s rightful paternity could be raised, among other considerations. The law protected the man, but not the woman, in so many ways.
He briefly thought of Benjamin. He did not know, for sure, that the child was his. Rachel could have slept with another man, either immediately before or after, the one time they had made love. He had discovered later that she was not chaste, in any way.
He knew that Benwashis, in his heart: the boy looked like him, had his eyes. But it could have been different. Paternity was not easy to establish, in such cases. He had taken her word and did the honourable thing by her. Another man might have cast her aside, telling her that he had no proof that the child was his, and the law would have backed him up.
Women were vulnerable in this society. Look at what had happened to Hetty.
But he must believe that the court would grant her divorce. The alternative could not be borne. That he had got so close to finally making her his own, only having to admit that she could never be his.
He could barely endure the thought.
“Iwillgo to a convent,” she said suddenly, her face twisted in pain. “If I cannot get divorced, then that is my plan …”
“Hetty, no,” he said, appalled. “I could not bear it. To think of you locked away in a convent, forever denied to me …”
She was trembling, gazing at him. “What are you suggesting? Do you think for a moment that I would submit to an unlawful union with you? The same thing as what this Amelie Marchand has done with my husband?” Her eyes glittered dangerously. “If youaresuggesting such a thing, then let me tell you now, and you can be away: I will do no such thing.”
Louis flinched as if she had struck him. “I am not suggesting any such thing,” he whispered. “I would never dishonour you in such a way.” He took a deep breath. “All I am saying is that I cannot bear the thought of you in a convent. We will fight, together, for yourdivorce. If the court denies it, then we shall appeal. I will wait years for you.”
She gazed at him, dumbfounded. “You would wait years for me? Even though I might never obtain a divorce and be a free woman?”
