Page 35 of The Lady Who Left (The Flower Sisters #4)
A rchie’s legs dragged as he returned to the courthouse, every inch of his body aching as though he’d just received the worst pummeling of his life on the pitch. His lungs burned with unshed tears, the effort of keeping himself under some semblance of control too much to bear.
Marigold had left.
After everything he’d done, everything they’d shared, she’d still walked away from him. From everything they could have been. And under the guise of protecting him from being tainted by her presence.
Didn’t she understand he didn’t care what others said? He’d gladly take whatever barbs people tossed his way, work whatever jobs he needed to support her and her children, lay himself bare for her.
But it wouldn’t be enough. He could never be enough .
He paced up and down the Strand until his legs burned as much as his eyes from fighting back tears, his feet throbbing as they slapped against the cobblestones. He’d lost count of how many circuits he’d made when he approached the courthouse again to see Nathan coming at him at a clip.
“Where have you been?” he hissed. “The judge is back with a ruling.”
Already? Archie couldn’t say the word with his lungs seizing. Then he remembered.
Nathan knew about his relationship with Marigold. He’d told her, threatened her.
Archie stopped, grabbed the lapel of Nathan’s jacket. “What did you say to her?”
His friend brushed his hand away. “Nothing she didn’t need to hear. Now come on!”
Archie’s ears rang as he took his place at the petitioner’s table, the rumblings of the courtroom fading to a dull roar, the movement of spectators and barristers blurred. When the judge strode back to his bench, Archie’s stomach lurched, and he sent up a silent prayer. Marigold’s future was in the judge’s hands, and all Archie could do was listen.
The judge’s eyes stopped on Archie. “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Grant. Is your client avoiding us as well?”
He swallowed, croaked a response. “She—she has declined to attend the ruling, my lord.”
The man’s lips flattened. “So be it. Mr. Grant, your case is unorthodox, and I admire your drive to prove Lady Croydon’s cause for a divorce. However, without her testimony, I cannot rule that she has suffered direct harm at the hand—or mouth, as it were, of the marquess.”
Archie was stunned, the words a sharp blow to his gut that threatened to send him stumbling to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Stansbury lift his chin in victory, but the judge threw him a quelling look.
“However, Lady Croydon was not alone in her petition. Her children, particularly young Lord Torcross, suffered from their father’s poor treatment. Given their ages, I have to consider their well-being in my ruling.”
A glimmer of hope, something that seemed impossible moments ago, put out a weak light.
“The sins of the father are carried by the oldest son, as many of us know, leaving a legacy that haunts from generation to generation.” The judge hesitated, his eyes darkening momentarily, and Archie wondered if the man carried his own burdens from his childhood.
The judge cleared his throat before continuing. “Lady Croydon initiated this case intending to protect her children from further harm. If a young man feels compelled to speak against his father in open court, I am inclined to believe him.”
Archie’s breath caught. Could this mean—
“I hereby grant the petitioner’s request and order the dissolution of the union between Lord and Lady Croydon.”
The next several moments passed in a surreal blur as the judge stood and the courtroom erupted. The marquess and his barristers stormed by, elbowing their way past the throng of reporters that rushed the bench to get a quote. Archie barely heard their inquiries as he gathered his papers with shaking hands, his ears ringing and pulse thundering.
He’d done it. He’d won .
But Marigold was still gone.
Archie managed to answer a few questions—yes, he was pleased with the verdict; no, he didn’t expect an appeal—before excusing himself. His lungs seized, black spots dancing before his eyes, as he burst from the courtroom into the wide, marbled hallway beyond.
“Oy,” he barked at one of the errand boys who congregated outside the courtrooms. “Send news of the ruling to this direction.” He scrawled the hotel’s name and street number, followed by her name. The lad nodded, tipped his cap, then sprinted away.
Archie’s stomach clenched, and he tore off his wig and threw it to the floor before pressing a hand to the wall to keep himself from curling over. He was gutted, left as a carrion for birds of prey to pick apart in the center of London. He’d wanted to be the one to tell her, to see her face when she’d learned she was free. They’d accomplished this together , her tenacity and intelligence allowing him to find the pieces to construct their case.
Yes, he’d broken her trust by putting Reggie on the stand. But where had the warrior in her gone? Why didn’t she fight him, push him to explain? Where had she gotten the notion that he didn’t want to be around her?
“Eeeeh, Archie! ”
He looked up and snarled when he saw Nathan ambling towards him, an amiable smile on his face as he made punching motions in the air, like he was knocking out an invisible foe. “That was incredible, mate! I’m heading down Chapin and Barnes if you want to join me, tell them the news—”
Archie grabbed him by the upper arms, spun him and pressed his back against the wall, Nathan’s breath escaping in a gust. “What did you say to her?” he growled through clenched teeth.
Nathan gaped, stammered. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Archie slammed him again, this time hard enough to draw stares from passersby. He didn’t care, couldn’t care about anything . “What did you say ?” he hissed, venom in his tone.
“I told her to trust you,” he spat, “that this win meant as much to you as it does to her—”
“It means everything to her!” Archie released him, spun away and raked his hand through his hair. “This was only about her!”
“And you!” Nathan jabbed Archie in the chest. “You’re the one who needs the practice to support your mother, aye? You couldn’t do that if your client was tossed in an asylum.”
He pointed a finger in Nathan’s face. “I would have kept her out, I would have kept her .”
“Stop this.” Nathan clapped a hand on Archie’s shoulder. “It’s best she’s out of your life. Do you think you’d get hired if the ton knew you’d not only humiliated a peer but cuckolded him as well? ”
Archie realized his fist was moving only when it was about to collide with Nathan’s jaw, and he pulled the blow sufficiently to send the man stumbling instead of sprawling in a heap on the marble floors. Gasps surrounded them, and Archie hesitated long enough to decide he didn’t care.
“I’m not coming back to Chapin,” he spat, “and to hell with the consequences.”
“Like we’d have you now.” Nathan shook his head as he rubbed his jaw. “You’ll regret this.”
He bent to retrieve his mangled wig. “I already regret a lot of things. I’ll add this to the list.”