Page 76 of Touched By a Traitor
Charlotte studied his face, noting the raw anguish in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with remorse. For a moment, she glimpsed the depth of his regret, but the wound was too fresh for forgiveness.
She nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief bearing Andrew’s initials.
In the days that followed, Charlotte threw herself into her work with quiet determination, finding solace in the only legal work still available to her. Though she could no longer practice as a barrister, she could still use her knowledge to help those who needed it most. Andrew watched from a distance, his guilt evident in every glance, but he respected her need for space evenas it tore at his heart. The house felt heavy with unspoken words and the weight of a future that seemed increasingly uncertain.
The Terrible Truth
27 February 1837
Three weeks later,Charlotte sat at her desk, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the scattered papers before her. Her once pristine barrister’s robes hung limply on a nearby hook, a painful reminder of the career she had lost. The grief of being disbarred still weighed heavily on her, a constant ache that seemed to permeate her heart and occasionally gave it a painful squeeze.
Despite her grief, Charlotte found purpose in crafting documents for women and girls rescued from brothels and workhouses. These papers would provide them with new opportunities for jobs, marriages, and even emigration.
As she worked, Charlotte reflected on Andrew’s involvement in these rescue missions, feeling a newfound respect for her husband’s compassion. Sealing the final document, she felt fulfilled. She gathered the papers in ordinary-looking envelopes and pushed a cart toward the post office, her steps light with purpose.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows of a dark alleyway, causing Charlotte to yelp in surprise, her heart leaping into her throat. “What is the meaning of this, sir? You nearly frightened me to death!”
The man bowed his head in apology, his voice low and contrite. “I beg your pardon, Lady Carlisle. I have been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you in private.”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes narrowing as she studied the stranger’s face. Upon recognition, Charlotte felt a flicker of unease, her body tensing as she wondered what possible reason this man could have for seeking her out. “You are Lord Byron, are you not? But why should you wish to speak with me?”
She cast a furtive glance over his person, searching for any sign of a concealed weapon, but found none. The presence of the cart between them and the bustling street nearby provided a measure of comfort, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder how Andrew would react if he were to stumble upon them together.
Schooling her features into a mask of calm, Charlotte addressed the man before her. “What can I do for you, Lord Byron?”
Lord Byron’s expression turned serious, his voice carrying a bitter edge. “I came to warn you, Lady Carlisle, though I confess my motives are not entirely pure. Your husband humiliated me publicly—made me appear a fool and a liar before all of London society. My reputation shall never recover from that courtroom spectacle.” His hands clenched at his sides. “But even in my anger, I cannot stand by and watch him destroy an innocent woman with the same calculated cruelty he showed me.”
Charlotte remained silent, her heart beginning to race as she sensed the gravity of what he was about to reveal.
“Your husband planned your disbarment from the start. He promised his shareholders he’d ruin you after the case. He even voted against reinstating your license. I heard this directly from Wilson and other Sovereign Seas shareholders. They boasted of it at their club, speaking of you as if you were merely a business obstacle to be removed.” His voice grew quieter, more intense.“I may despise your husband, Lady Carlisle, but I recognize that you are a victim of his machinations. You deserve to know the truth of his betrayal.”
With a curt nod, Lord Byron melted back into the shadows, leaving Charlotte alone with her thoughts, her mind reeling from the shocking accusation.
As the weight of Byron’s words sank in, each syllable a dagger plunging deeper into her heart, Charlotte felt her world tilt on its axis. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp of shock and betrayal. The air around her seemed to grow thick and heavy, as if conspiring to suffocate her with the awful truth of her husband’s deceit.
“No,” she whispered, her voice faint above the roaring of blood in her ears. “No… he wouldn’t…”
But even as the words left her lips, Charlotte knew in her heart that it was all-too plausible. The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place with sickening clarity—how Andrew had ruined her so publicly, his investors’ interests, his guilty expression when she’d been disbarred.
A wave of nausea washed over her, her vision blurring with unshed tears as the bitter sting of betrayal mingled with the searing pain of shattered trust. How could the man she loved, the one to whom she had given her heart and soul, be capable of such cruelty, such calculated manipulation? The thought was too terrible to bear, and yet, the evidence was mounting, painting a picture of a marriage built on lies and deception.
With trembling hands, Charlotte gripped the cart for support, her knuckles turning white as she fought to maintain her composure. She knew she couldn’t break down here, not in the middle of the street where anyone might see.
Squaring her shoulders, Charlotte pushed the cart forward, her steps no longer light and carefree, but heavy with the burden of knowledge and the weight of the difficult path that lay ahead.
*
Charlotte’s first stopwas the Duke of Chatham’s office at the Inner Temple. As she entered, she found him in his court dress, complete with a powdered wig, holding a piece of paper. He stared at her like a startled hare.
“Charlotte! What on earth brings you here?” He leapt from his chair and strode toward her, his eyes wide with surprise and concern.
Quickly, she closed the door behind her. He enveloped her in a tight embrace, his hands stroking her back as he rocked her gently from side to side.
“I am overjoyed to see you, my dear. I’ve missed you terribly. How has Carlisle been treating you?” He held her at arm’s length, his hands resting on her shoulders as he studied her face intently. “What troubles you? What has happened?”
Charlotte shook her head, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, “I am well enough. I’ve come to seek your assistance.” She examined his countenance more closely, her brow furrowing. “You appear unwell yourself. Are you feeling ill?”
The duke sighed deeply, shaking his head as he gestured for her to take a seat. He poured them each a glass of brandy, which Charlotte accepted with a grateful nod, sipping the amber liquid cautiously to calm her frayed nerves.
