Chapter 6 - The Poisoned Petition
The black wax seal of the High Court of Chancery glistened ominously under the study lamps.
Edward tore the parchment open, his eyes scanning the formal Latinate legal phrasing with sharp, mounting fury.
Julian Hargrove had acted with terrifying speed. Realizing that he could no longer intimidate Edward directly, Julian had immediately dispatched a rider to London to file an emergency injunction with the ecclesiastical court.
The petition alleged that because Lord Edward Ashford had lived continuously in London for three full years without returning to Ashkcom Hall—a fact verified by numerous high-society witnesses—Lady Charlotte’s newborn child could not possibly be of Edward's bloodline. The document demanded a formal court inquiry, an investigation into Charlotte’s moral conduct, and the temporary freezing of the Ashford estate entailed inheritance until the child’s parentage could be proven in court.
In short, Julian was attempting to drag Charlotte through the mud of a public scandal, destroying her reputation in the newspapers and forcing Edward to defend his paternity in a public trial.
"What does it say?" Charlotte asked, her voice tight with rising panic as she watched Edward’s jaw clench.
Edward folded the document carefully, trying to keep his composure for her sake. "Julian is challenging Henry's legitimacy in court."
Charlotte gasped, pressing her hands against her chest as if she had been struck. "How dare he! How dare that disgusting man insinuate—"
"Hush, Charlotte," Edward said gently, kneeling beside her chair and taking both of her shaking hands in his. "He is doing this because he is desperate. He knows he has lost the estate, so he is trying to use the threat of scandal to force us into a settlement."
"A scandal will ruin us, Edward!" Charlotte whispered, tears finally welling in her dark eyes. "If the court opens an inquiry, every gossip rag in London will print horrible stories about us. The county gentry will shun our boy before he even learns to walk!"
"I will not allow an inquiry to happen," Edward said firmly, his thumb smoothing over her knuckles. "Julian bases his entire argument on the premise that I never visited Ashkcom Hall during the past nine months."
Charlotte frowned, confused. "But... you didn't, Edward. You were in London."
Edward’s eyes lit up with a dark, brilliant cleverness. "The public knows I was in London. But the law requires proof of non-access. If we can prove that I secretly returned to Ashkcom Hall nine months ago—even for a single night—Julian's entire petition crumbles into dust."
Charlotte stared at him, her heart hammering. "A secret visit? But how can we prove something that never happened?"
"We don't prove a lie, Charlotte," Edward said, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. "We reveal a truth that everyone overlooked."
Nine months ago—in late January—Edward had indeed left London for four days. He had told his club associates that he was visiting his trade partner in Yorkshire. In reality, Edward had suffered a moment of intense, overwhelming guilt regarding his abandoned wife. He had ridden south toward Ashkcom, intending to see her, but when he reached the boundary inn five miles from the estate, his courage had failed him. He had stayed at the inn for two days in total anonymity, drinking alone by the fire before returning to London like a coward.
No one at Ashkcom had known he was five miles away. No one in London knew where he had actually gone.
"The innkeeper at the Black Swan in Oakhaven," Edward said, his voice filled with rising determination. "I stayed there under the name of Mr. Edward Vance for two nights in January. I wrote a letter to you while sitting in that room, Charlotte... a letter I was too cowardly to send."
Charlotte listened, her mouth slightly open. "You... you were five miles away from me nine months ago?"
"I was," Edward confessed softly, looking down in shame. "I was too afraid to face you. But I was there. If I can produce the innkeeper's register and the draft of that unsent letter, any judge in England will accept that a husband, secretly staying five miles from his wife's home, visited her in the night."
Charlotte looked at him deeply, her tears drying as a strange mixture of emotions washed over her. She felt the lingering sting of his past cowardice, but beneath it, she felt a profound, surging wave of hope.
"You kept the draft of that letter?" she asked softly.
"It is in my iron strongbox in London," Edward said. "I never destroyed it."
"Then go," Charlotte urged, gripping his hands tightly. "Go to London, retrieve the strongbox, and bring back the proof before Julian’s petition reaches the high judge."
Edward looked at her pale face, then turned his gaze toward the door where Margaret was waiting.
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"I cannot leave you alone here, Charlotte," Edward said, hesitant. "Not with Julian watching the gates."
"I am not alone anymore, Edward," Charlotte said, offering him the first genuine, beautiful smile he had seen on her face since his return. "I have our son. And I have faith in his father."
