Page 38 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
Louis held his breath. He had been waiting, for Frank Blackmore to make an appearance, but the man had not seen fit to show his face.That, at least, was a good omen. Perhaps he simply did not care that Hetty was trying to divorce him. Perhaps he simply wanted to be rid of the marriage as well, so that he could be free to marry his mistress and legitimise his coming child. Perhaps it was not his intention to challenge it, at all.
But another wave of uneasiness swept over him. It would not be in Frank Blackmore’s interest to end the marriage if he wanted to keep Hetty’s dowry. Yes, he might want to marry his mistress, but surely the desire to fund his love nest in France was stronger than that. It was money, after all, and most men would fight tooth and nail to keep it.
His mistress was French, and they had more liberal ideas about adulterous unions in that country, apart from the fact that he could simply be lying, claiming that theywerelegally wed. He was residing in a foreign country. How was anyone there to know if he and his mistress were married, or not?
His eyes slid to the door, waiting for the moment when Frank Blackmore would breeze through it. But it remained firmly closed. He let out his breath, more relieved than he could say. Hopefully, if the manhaddecided to come, an ill wind had blown his ship off course, and he would be too late.
***
Hetty’s voice was firm, if a little soft, as she related the background of her marriage.
“I exchanged vows with Mr Frank Blackmore on April the second of this year,” she said slowly. “We were married in the parish of Alderbury, at St Peter’s church, in the village of Derrington, Wiltshire.”
The bishop held a piece of parchment in his hand, studying it closely, before handing it to the colleague on his left. “Yes, the marriage document is in order,” he said crisply. “You then proceeded to your marital home, in the same village?”
Hetty nodded. “We left the church and travelled to our newly purchased home,” she continued slowly. “The very next day, I awoke to find a note informing me that he was leaving me. He claimed that he had been having doubts for months and that he could not proceed with the marriage …”
The bishop gazed at her steadily. “Do you still have this note?”
Hetty looked dismayed. “No, my lord. In a fit of anger, I burnt it. I regret my haste.”
The bishop smiled faintly. “Anger is never becoming in a woman, madam.” He paused. “Continue.”
Hetty’s jaw tightened. “That same morning, I was visited by a solicitor, Mr Joseph Baldwin, who informed me that our home was sold, and had been for over a week, at least. I was told that I had nolegal recourse and that I must vacate the house within fourteen days.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I believe that this act shows that my new husband intended to desert me, well before our wedding day. That he was only waiting for us to exchange vows before he did so.”
“We shall be the judge of that, madam,” said the bishop curtly. “We are only interested in facts, at the moment. Please continue.”
Hetty took a deep breath. “I was devastated, of course, and not sure how to proceed. I penned a letter to my parents, requesting assistance, and they came promptly.” She hesitated. “My father went to see the solicitor to confirm the sale of the property. He arranged disposal of the furniture. And then, they took me back to their home.”
“Is this true, Mr Arnold?” The judge raised his eyebrows.
“It is true, my lord,” said Hetty’s father, in a strained voice. “The sale of the property was watertight. There seemed nothing else for it but to dissolve the household and take my daughter back to our family home.”
The bishop nodded. He picked up another piece of parchment, studying it intently. “I have a letter from Mr Joseph Baldwin, solicitor, confirming the sale of the property, and the date on which it occurred.” He looked up at them. “The date was indeed a week prior to your wedding day, Mrs Blackmore.”
Louis felt elated. Frank Blackmore had overplayed his hand in that regard. In his haste to be gone from Hetty, and into his mistress’s arms, he had made a tactical error in selling off the property before their wedding day. Hopefully, he would live to regret it. It proved, in his opinion at least, that Blackmore had fully intended to desert her. Why else would he sell off their newly purchased home without another one waiting in the wings to take his wife to?
The bishop looked grave. “This is, indeed, a dishonourable act on the part of Mr Blackmore,” he said slowly. “You assert that you did not know that the property had been sold before Mr Baldwin informed you of it?”
Hetty shook her head. “None whatsoever, my lord. It was a shock to me. My husband never intimated it in the note that he left, nor did he speak of it to me prior.”
“It is, of course, a gentleman’s right to sell off his own property,” piped up another judge. “He is under no legal obligation to inform his wife.”
There was silence in the room. Hetty looked angry, but she managed to control it. Louis let out a breath in relief.
“And you have had no correspondence from your husband since that day?” asked the bishop, his voice hard. “You have not been in contact with him at all?”
“I received one letter,” said Hetty. “In it, he informed me that we could never be reconciled and that he is currently residing in France.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “He told me that he has a mistress, a Mademoiselle Amelie Marchand, and that he was involved with the lady the whole time that we were engaged. They are currently expecting a child.”
The bishop raised his eyebrows. “I hope that you did not burnthisletter, madam. Do you have it to present to the court?”
Hetty nodded, passing the letter along until it reached the judges. The bishop read it thoroughly before passing it to his colleagues, who each read it in turn. The court was so quiet, Louis could almost hear his own breath coming in and out of his lungs.
The bishop sighed deeply, staring at Hetty. “Madam, the fact that your husband has admitted his infidelity to you is not a gross impediment to the sanctity of your marriage.” He smiled condescendingly. “The church recognises that gentlemen often have mistresses and that their needs are stronger, in that regard …”
Hetty’s blue eyes flashed with anger. “He has broken our marriage vows! He deserted me, to live with his mistress, and was fully intending to do so the whole time that we were betrothed to one another!” Her chest heaved. “He betrayed me, leaving me to disgrace, while he has set up a new home with another woman in another country. It is shameful!”
Hetty’s father reached out a placating hand on her arm. He gazed ather, shaking his head. Mrs Arnold, who was seated on the other side, paled, looking as if she were about to faint clean away.
