Page 43 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
His smile widened. “I was wondering why you looked so happy all of a sudden when you had been weeping in my arms, just seconds before…”
Her eyes glittered, with fierce triumph. “It was talking about the king’s first marriage, to Catherine of Aragon, that it suddenly struck me,” she said. “The king tried to claim that she had not been a virgin when he married her, as she had been previously married to his late brother. She asserted that she was, that her marriage to his brother was never valid, as they had not lain together, as he had been sickly. And that was when it came to me that I could argue for an annulment on the grounds that I was a virgin …”
He shook his head in wonder. “A brilliant tactic,” he whispered. “And I must say, just as an aside, that it warmed my heart to hear that the rake of a husband of yours never lay with you.” He lowered his voice. “That you will truly be mine, on our wedding night …”
She shivered at his words, her heart soaring with hope. Was it possible? Had she done enough to lay this to rest once and for all, and finally be free to get on with her life the way that she yearned to?
“We must not celebrate yet,” she said quietly. “They are still convening. And I have learnt the hard way that we must assume nothing of life.”
She gazed towards the closed door. A flurry of butterflies leapt to life in her belly. Every minute, every second, was agony now until it opened again, and they could walk back in and hear what the judgeshad decided.
***
The judges were grim-faced, as they walked back into the court. Hetty shivered in sudden fear. She couldn’t read a thing from their expressions.
When they were settled, the bishop took a deep breath. He turned and addressed her.
“This has been a rather messy business,” he declared. “As I said at the beginning of these proceedings, the Church values the sanctity of marriage, and extenuating circumstances must be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, for the holy vows between a man and a woman to be broken, in the eyes of God.” He paused for a long time, gazing at her steadily. “My colleagues and I were rather divided after your revelations this morning, madam. I must inform you that before you spoke, we had made the decision that your marriage should be upheld …”
Hetty’s heart flipped over in her chest.
“One of my colleagues argued that your reputation is still compromised by the allegations Mr Blackmore made against you,” he continued. “That there is no smoke without fire, and that there is the strongest possibility that hedidbelieve you were unchaste andacted accordingly. This court, as you know, takes a grim view of a woman’s infidelity. In the matter of marriage, we must be scrupulous on this count. The question of paternity of offspring arises. A man must know that his children are his own, without a shadow of a doubt, or else it rips asunder the very fabric of civilised society.”
Hetty’s felt a flickering of anger. After all that she had said, theystilldoubted her chasteness?
“My colleague argued that we should compel you to undergo an examination, to prove that you are, indeed, still a maiden, as you claim,” he said slowly. “He also argued that we should dig deeper, to investigate Mr Blackmore’s assertions about you, and put before this court anyone who has witnessed you acting in the way that Mr Blackmore described in his letter.”
Hetty’s heart sank. This was not sounding good. If they did that, this could drag on for many more months. But then, she rallied. She had truth on her side. If they made her take an examination, it would prove that she was not lying. And there was no one who could claim she had acted inappropriately while she was engaged because she hadn’t.
“But I have vetoed all of that,” he continued in a firm voice. “As bishop, I have the final say, and it is my will, that you should not be subjected to an examination, madam.” He paused. “I believe that you have endured enough and that your testimony is sufficient. I believe that you are telling the truth and that youarestill a maiden. I also believe that there is sufficient evidence that your husband intended to desert you, to live with his mistress, and that what he wrote in his letter about your infidelities, and the fact that he was notinvolved with his mistress at the time of your engagement, are all lies.”
Hetty’s heart began to swell. She reeled, almost swooning. Her mother let out a little yelp of joy. Her father grasped her arm tightly.
The bishop took a deep breath. “It is the finding of this court that Miss Henrietta Arnold’s marriage to Mr Frank Blackmore was never consummated, and therefore, is not valid,” he declared. “The court declares that Mr Blackmore is required, by law, to return Miss Arnold’s dowry to her father, so that she has proper funds in which to secure a new marriage if she so desires.” He paused, gazing steadily at Hetty. “The marriage is declared annulled, as of today’s date. Good luck, Miss Arnold. I rather think that you deserve it.”
Hetty smiled at him, tremulously, her eyes filling with tears. The bishop smiled back. And then all three clerics stood, sweeping out of the room without another word.
She was free. The bishop had just declared it. He had called her Miss Arnold. She was no longer Mrs Frank Blackmore. The past had been erased as if it had never existed at all. As if it had been merely chalk scribblings on a slate, wiped clean by a rag.
She was on her feet now, being embraced by her mother and father. They squeezed her tightly. The tears started to flow as she sobbed in their arms. They had never given up on her. They had been the ones who had fought for this victory, alongside her. They had picked her up, when she had been at her lowest ebb, and protected her. She wasthe luckiest woman in the world to have such parents.
Through her tears, she saw Mr Mitchell, Frank’s solicitor, walk out of the room, a grim look on his face. No doubt, he was not looking forward to writing to his client and informing him of what had happened here today. The man had been so very confident that his character assassination of her would work. He might have even suggested it to Frank, that it was the only way to win this case.
She took a deep breath. She no longer cared whether Frank hated her, or was indifferent to her, or what he thought about her at all. He could have his French mistress, and his child, and his new home in another country. It was no longer any of her business.
She was free. She was free!
Finally, her eyes found him. Louis. He was standing in the gallery. Just watching her. His face was resplendent with joy.
It was not the time to embrace him publicly. Not yet. But that time was coming very soon. And she simply could not wait for it.
He had saved her. He had brought her back to life. And she simply couldn’t live without him now. She knew that, in the depths of her innermost heart.
Chapter 19
Hetty swung the basket against her hip as she walked down the garden path. It was officially the last day of summer. Tomorrow, it would be a new month and a new season. Tomorrow, it would be autumn, and the leaves on the apple tree would slowly start to change colour and fall to the ground.
She hummed softly under her breath as she swung the rusty old garden gate open. Della, who was trotting at her heels, barked suddenly, scrambling in her haste, to run through the field. Hetty laughed, so full of joy that she could barely contain it.
