After a slow, deliberate exhale, she opened her eyes. Archie sat on the edge of his seat, his brows furrowed and one hand extended, as though he were reaching for her. Seeming to realize his posture, he pulled his hand back and fisted it on his lap.
“I would never sp-spite you,” she said, focusing on each sound as it left her lips. Perhaps if she focused on the letters, she could ignore how much they hurt her to say. “I truly d-didn’t know who you were. I never meant to cause you harm.”
He nodded grimly, looking away at his feet. “So this was all a coincidence.”
She sat once more, one ankle tucked under the other. Her hands trembled as she laced her fingers together. “You were the only solicitor in Yorkshire who hadn’t already rejected my case.”
His snort was derisive. “I’m thrilled to hear my reputation precedes me. The last solicitor in Yorkshire?”
“Several in London refused as well.”
He leaned against the back of the settee with a wince. “This has been humbling.”
Marigold wanted to collapse into herself, to allow her rib cage to devour her shoulders, to disappear from the shame of what she’d done. But hiding from the marquess had not made her marriage more palatable, and Archie still held her fate in his hands.
He shook his head. “You must be at the end of your options. I’m not even a solicitor.” Her brows furrowed. “I primarily argue in court. For the best, as paperwork isn’t my strong suit.”
Her insides crumbled. He wouldn’t help her, not that she expected him to after what she’d done.
“Do you have any savings,” he asked in a frigid voice, interrupting her thoughts, “any plans for what you’d do if you were successful in divorcing your husband?”
Her head tilted at his question. Was he concerned for her? “I have jewelry I can sell, enough to p-pay a solicitor and start over somewhere else. I can’t st-stay in England. I have no need for society’s acceptance, b-but I won’t have my children b-be subjected to gossip or the interference of their father.”
He studied the carpet at his feet, and her heart thundered. As stunning as it had been for him to arrive on her doorstep, how humiliated she was by her actions, the thought of sending him away, of never seeing him again, made something in her chest twist in displeasure. But what choice did she have but to shut him out?
She swallowed, her throat raw. “Will you tell the marquess what happened b-b-between us?”
“No.”
“You won’t?” She searched his face, waiting for the catch, some hidden agenda he’d make known as soon as she was vulnerable. She’d shown him her soft underbelly, and certainly he would strike the moment she was weakest.
That’s what men did, after all.
“I have no intention of telling the marquess,” he went on, “but there is something you can do for me.”
Her gut twisted as understanding dawned. “Once I sell my jewels, I can pay you to keep this a secret.”
“I don’t care about your money,” he said, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his thighs. “I want your case.”
Chapter 8
“Whatisyourplan?”
Archie pressed another heavy book into Jasper’s hands and continued down the narrow aisles of the Leeds Law Library, speaking over his shoulder. Dust motes clouded the lone path of sunlight that made it through the windows dotting the domed ceiling of the common study room to the dense stacks beyond. “It’s not really a plan yet, more of a loose collection of thoughts I hope will turn into a plan.”
He ignored Jasper’s long-suffering sigh. “And your thoughts are…”
“Three grounds for divorce,” he said, running his finger along the gold-filigree spines until he found the one he was looking for, tugged it down, and added it to Jasper’s pile. “Abandonment is not at issue, so we need to prove infidelity and abuse.”
“Precisely.” Jasper sneezed. That last book was rather dusty.
“Lady Croydon claims the marquess took pains to hide his mistresses.” Using her title felt like a slice across the chest every time, but the sting was lessening. But he’d be damned if he referred to Lord Croydon as her husband. “She did not condone the affair.”
“And therefore, his infidelity can be used against him,” Jasper said. “How will she prove it?”
“Letters.” Archie stopped when he reached a newspaper archive, and Jasper nearly crashed into his back. “Society page archives.”
Jasper wrinkled his nose. “Why are these in a law library?”
