Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Louis gazed across the foyer of the building, his heart in his mouth. Hetty was standing there, flanked by her parents. He yearned to cross the few metres that separated them but did not dare. He knew how risky it would be to do such a thing when they were so close to the hearing.

He studied her covertly. She looked calm and composed, but he knew that it was all a show. Only last night, he had spoken to her, and she had been almost sick with nerves, reiterating her wild idea that if she was not granted this divorce now, then he should abandon her. Give up on her and start afresh.

He had assured her, yet again, that he would do no such thing, that his heart was hers for all eternity. That they would eventually get her divorce, and that they would be together. She had seemed to accept his declaration, but he was still deeply uneasy that she would act rashly if they were not successful at this hearing.

He knew that he must be patient with her, that it was overwhelming her. They had waited so long, even to be informed, that this petition was going to be heard. But instead of assuring her that success was one step closer, it had rattled her to the core, dredging up all her insecurities and fears about the process. She simply had no idea of what was about to unfold, and that fact frightened her to the core. She had convinced herself that they were doomed to failure.

He took a deep breath, his heart flooding with love and desire as he beheld her. She had dressed simply, in a modest grey gown, with a high cream lace collar, and long sleeves. It looked too warm, as the day was already gathering heat. Beads of sweat were already breaking out on her forehead, dampening the glossy chestnut curls framing her face. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining himself kissing that forehead, tasting the salt of her sweat …

He opened his eyes, shifting uneasily. He must banish such thoughts, at least for the moment. They were an indulgence, and they weakened him when he had to be sharp as a tack, for her sake. For the sake of the woman, who was the love of his life, and who he was determined to make his wife, once and for all.

He still couldn't quite believe that she had finally given her heart to him. That he had convinced her, at long last, of his devotion to her. The revelation about his illegitimate child had almost driven her away from him, but her heart had melted when she beheld Ben in the flesh. When she realised what a divine little boy he was, and that there was no way that he could have abandoned him. She finally realised that he had done the right thing, even if society deemed it wrong.

He had promised her that he would not fully make love to her until their wedding night, and he intended to keep that vow. To show her how committed he was to her. But his hunger for her was growing, day by day. When he held her in his arms in stolen moments and kissed her, it was growing harder not to make her completely his. Sometimes, it was just easier to avoid those situations, so that the temptation was not there.

And there was another reason to avoid that temptation, of course. She was a married woman. If anyone discovered their dalliances or even suspected them, it could ruin every chance that she would be granted this divorce. So much was at stake. Once again, he had to draw on those deep reserves of patience that he had almost depleted when he had been trying to woo her.

The only thing that was getting him through it was the shining light that she would one day be free, and they could finally be together.

There was movement. The door opened, and Hetty and her parents were ushered through it. He followed at a discreet distance. There was a gallery where he could sit and listen to proceedings.

She glanced back at him, quickly, her blue eyes large with fright. He tried to smile reassuringly but felt his face crack with the effort. His heart was racing and his palms slick with sweat. The day, and the hour, had finally come, and now, he was as beset by doubt and fear, as she was.

***

He sat down in the chair, gazing around. There were three judges, all high clerics in the church. One wore the robes of a bishop. This particular gentleman sat in the middle, flanked by his fellow clerics, his face as impassive as stone. He did not look particularly impressed as he gazed at Hetty.

Louis felt a quick stab of fear. These men were God's servants. They were indoctrinated to believe that woman was the originator of sin in this world. A woman must be humble, meek, and accept her lot in life. They would not look kindly on a woman who dared to challenge the sanctity of marriage, even if she had good cause to do so.

"Madam," said the bishop, in a sharp voice. "You have petitioned this court for a dissolution of your marriage." His gaze turned sharp, and his lip curled. "This is a grave and serious thing that you have undertaken. The church must uphold the vows of marriage, and it is only in exceptional circumstances that they can be broken. Do you understand?"

Hetty was pale. "Yes, my lord," she whispered, almost swaying in her chair. "I understand the severity of what I am requesting."

"You come here, in sound mind?" he barked.

"I do," she said.

The bishop's gaze swivelled to Mr. Arnold. "Sir, you testify that your daughter is of sound mind, and fully able, to petition the court, for the dissolution of her marriage? And that she has your blessing, to do so?"

Hetty's father nodded grimly. "I do, my lord."

The bishop looked sour as if he had suddenly sucked upon a lemon. His lips pursed. "So be it, then. We shall hear your testimony, Mrs Blackmore. But I must stress that it pains me and my fellow brothers in Christ that it has come to this." He paused, his eyes cold, as he beheld Hetty. "That you have felt compelled to do this when a good Christian woman should meekly accept what the good Lord has seen fit to bestow upon her."

Hetty bridled a little. A mutinous expression crossed her face before she composed herself, and the mask slipped back into place. Louis felt another stab of uneasiness. It was going to be hard for Hetty to listen to such platitudes and not express her distaste for them. Could she do it? So much was resting on her ability to do so. These men of God would not take kindly to being challenged in that regard.

The bishop gazed around the room. "Is Mr Blackmore present? I take it he was informed of these proceedings?"

"He was, my lord," said Mr Arnold, clearing his throat. "I wrote a letter to him, at his current address, as soon as we had word that it was going ahead."

The bishop nodded. "All is as it should be in that regard, then. We cannot wait for his arrival, but I must impress upon you that if he arrives, we are compelled to listen to his testimony and take it into account."

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 they were legally 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 man had decided 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 no legal 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 burn this letter, 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 at her, shaking his head. Mrs Arnold, who was seated on the other side, paled, looking as if she were about to faint clean away.

"If your outburst is quite done, madam," said the bishop coldly, "then I might continue, with what I was saying." He paused. "While the court does not believe it to be a gross impediment, it does not condone it. The fact that your estranged husband admits that he shall never be reconciled with you does make for a stronger case, however."

"I should not be so concerned about the infidelity," said another judge thoughtfully. "What I am concerned about is the fact it appears that he always intended to desert you. The sale of the property is proof of this, in my opinion. Mr Blackmore's letter confirms that he has no intention to return to you, and take care of you, as a good and proper husband should. And as the gentleman himself is not here to put his side of the case, well …"

Louis's heart quickened as the judges conferred with each other, huddling in whispers. It was looking good. They had accepted that Blackmore was always intending to desert her and was not intending to return to his marriage.

He glanced at Hetty. She was pale, so very pale, but her blue eyes were sparkling with sudden hope. Suddenly, she gazed back at him. His heart beat faster still. He could barely restrain himself from leaping into the air and hollering in triumph.

She shouldn't have confronted the judges about their flippant attitude towards her husband's infidelity. She knew that they would have a casual approach to it; they had spoken about it often in the lead up to the hearing. That there was one rule for men, in that regard, and quite another, for a woman. No, it wasn't fair, but it was the way of it, and confronting the judges about it would not accomplish anything and could, in fact, hinder her chances.

But while the bishop had censured her about her outburst, it seemed that luck was on their side. They were not going to punish her for it. He switched his gaze back to them. They were still whispering. One judge was frowning, looking displeased. The others were trying to convince him of something. They went back and forth for several more minutes. Was it ever going to end?

Abruptly, they disbanded. The bishop cleared his throat. He turned to Hetty.

"Mrs Blackmore," he said slowly. "We have discussed what you have presented before us…"

But before he could get any further, the door opened. A man stood there, dressed in sombre, dark clothes. Louis's eyes widened as he studied him. Who was he?

"Yes?" barked the bishop. "Who are you?"

"My lord," said the man, in a polished, calm voice. "My name is Mr Derrick Mitchell. I am a solicitor." He took a deep breath. "I am representing Mr Frank Blackmore in this petition. And I think the court would be very interested to hear my client's side of this."