Updated Apr 18, 2026 • ~14 min read
Chapter 21: The Court Case
Emmeline
The annulment hearing is scheduled for mid-June in the ecclesiastical courts—a formal proceeding that will determine whether Emmy’s marriage to the Duke is valid or just the sham Cordelia claims it to be—and Emmy wakes on the morning of the hearing with her stomach in knots despite having spent the past two weeks sleeping beside the Duke and building the kind of emotional intimacy she never thought possible with her cold distant husband.
They still haven’t fully consummated their marriage.
The Duke has been trying—they’ve been close, they’ve been intimate in ways that don’t risk pregnancy, they’ve shared his bed every night for two weeks—but the final step toward actual consummation keeps being delayed by the Duke’s residual fear about pregnancy and loss, and Emmy is terrified that the courts will use that fact to annul their marriage regardless of all the evidence they’ve gathered about their genuine partnership.
“We need to consummate the marriage,” their solicitor MR. PEMBERTON says for the hundredth time during their final pre-hearing meeting. “Your Grace, I cannot stress enough how much stronger our case would be if you could testify under oath that the marriage has been consummated. Without that, Lady Cordelia’s petition has significant merit.”
“I understand,” the Duke says, his voice tight with frustration. “But we’re not going to rush into intimacy just to satisfy legal requirements. We’ll present our case based on genuine partnership and growing love. That should be sufficient.”
“It may not be,” Mr. Pemberton warns. “The courts take non-consummation very seriously as grounds for annulment. Especially when combined with Lady Cordelia’s evidence of separate chambers, limited contact for most of your marriage, and questionable initial intent.”
“Then we’ll deal with whatever ruling they make,” the Duke says firmly. “But I won’t force my wife into intimacy she’s not ready for just because a court demands it.”
Emmy wants to argue that she IS ready, that she’s been ready for weeks—but she knows the Duke is protecting himself as much as her, that his statement about her not being ready is actually code for “I’m still terrified and need more time,” and pushing him now will just make everything worse.
The hearing itself is held in a formal courtroom—smaller than Emmy expected, less intimidating, just a panel of three ecclesiastical judges and space for the parties to present their arguments—and when Emmy and the Duke enter with Mr. Pemberton she immediately sees Lady Cordelia sitting on the opposite side of the room with her own solicitor looking smug and beautiful and absolutely certain she’s going to win.
“All rise for the honorable judges,” the clerk announces, and Emmy stands while three severe-looking men in formal robes enter and settle into their seats at the front of the courtroom.
The lead judge—BISHOP HOWARD, elderly and stern-faced—calls the hearing to order and asks both parties to present their opening statements.
Cordelia’s solicitor goes first—laying out the case for annulment with brutal efficiency, presenting evidence of separate chambers, testimony from bribed servants about the Duke and Emmy’s limited contact, documentation showing questionable intent behind their hasty marriage—and with each piece of evidence Emmy feels their case weakening despite all their preparation.
“Furthermore,” Cordelia’s solicitor concludes, “we have affidavits from multiple household staff confirming that the Duke and Duchess maintain entirely separate sleeping arrangements, that His Grace has never entered Her Grace’s chambers, that the connecting door between their rooms remains locked at His Grace’s insistence. This is not a marriage in any meaningful sense. It is a legal arrangement designed to provide the Duke with eventual heir while avoiding actual marital intimacy. Therefore we petition for annulment on grounds of non-consummation and fraudulent intent.”
Mr. Pemberton presents their counter-arguments with equal efficiency—witnesses who can testify about the Duke and Emmy’s growing affection, evidence of shared activities and increasing partnership, documentation of the Duke’s explicit intent to build a genuine marriage despite its unconventional beginning.
“While it’s true that Their Graces initially maintained separate chambers,” Mr. Pemberton argues, “they have recently begun sharing accommodations as their partnership has deepened. While the marriage has not yet been consummated, that is due to His Grace’s trauma around his first wife’s death during childbirth—a trauma he is actively working to overcome with Her Grace’s patient support. This is not fraud or sham marriage. This is two people building genuine partnership despite difficult circumstances.”
The judges listen to both presentations without visible reaction, and when opening statements conclude Bishop Howard asks the question Emmy has been dreading.
“Has this marriage been consummated?” Bishop Howard asks bluntly, looking directly at the Duke. “Your Grace, I need you to answer under oath. Has your marriage to the Duchess been consummated?”
The Duke stands with careful composure, and Emmy watches him struggle visibly with how to answer truthfully without damaging their case.
“Not yet,” the Duke admits, his voice steady despite obvious discomfort. “For reasons Mr. Pemberton explained—my trauma around my first wife’s death, my fear of repeating that tragedy—I have been unable to consummate our marriage in the traditional sense. But we have been intimate in other ways. We share chambers now. We are building genuine partnership. The consummation will happen when we’re both ready for it to be right instead of just legally required.”
“That’s not an answer,” Bishop Howard observes. “Either the marriage has been consummated or it hasn’t. There’s no middle ground here.”
“Then no,” the Duke says flatly. “The marriage has not been consummated. But that doesn’t make it invalid. It just makes it incomplete.”
Cordelia’s solicitor stands immediately. “Your honors, that admission alone should be sufficient for annulment. An unconsummated marriage after four months is clear evidence that His Grace never intended this to be a genuine union. He married the Duchess to produce an heir but cannot bring himself to actually attempt conception. That’s fraud.”
“It’s trauma,” the Duke argues, his composure cracking slightly. “Not fraud. I fully intend to consummate my marriage and produce an heir. I just need time to overcome five years of grief and fear before I can do so safely.”
“How much time?” Bishop Howard asks. “Months? Years? At what point does delayed consummation become effective non-consummation?”
“I don’t know,” the Duke admits. “But I’m asking the court to give us that time. To recognize that genuine partnership is being built even if physical consummation has been delayed. To understand that my hesitation comes from love and fear rather than fraudulent intent.”
The judges confer quietly while Emmy sits there trying not to panic because the Duke’s honest answers are making their case weaker, making it sound like he’ll never be ready to consummate their marriage, making Cordelia’s fraud claims seem more credible.
“We will hear from the Duchess,” Bishop Howard announces. “Your Grace, please approach.”
Emmy stands on shaking legs and moves to the front of the courtroom where she’s sworn to tell the truth, and when the judges ask her to explain why she wants to remain married to a man who won’t consummate their union she takes a deep breath and decides that complete honesty is their only hope.
“I love him,” Emmy says simply. “I didn’t at first—you’re right that our marriage started as convenience and necessity. But over the past four months I’ve fallen completely in love with my husband. And he loves me. Actually genuinely loves me despite all his trauma and fear. We’re building something real. Something worth protecting. And I’m willing to wait however long it takes for him to be ready for full intimacy because what we have now is already more meaningful than many traditional marriages.”
“But you want children eventually?” Bishop Howard presses. “You understand that an unconsummated marriage cannot produce heirs?”
“We’ll have children when we’re ready,” Emmy confirms. “When my husband has overcome enough of his trauma that pregnancy doesn’t terrify him. When we’re both prepared for the risks and responsibilities. That might take months. But it will happen. Because we’re committed to building an actual marriage, not just performing one for legal purposes.”
“Lady Cordelia,” Bishop Howard says, turning to where Cordelia is sitting. “You’ve brought this petition. What is your interest in the Duke’s marriage being annulled?”
Cordelia stands with perfect composure and lies with a straight face.
“I’m concerned for both of them,” Cordelia says in her musical voice. “Sebastian—His Grace—is clearly still devastated by his first wife’s death. Forcing himself into another marriage before he’s truly ready is cruel to both him and the Duchess. Annulling this arrangement would free them both to find partners they can actually build genuine intimacy with instead of just managing from a distance.”
“Or it would free His Grace to marry you,” the Duke’s solicitor observes. “Since you’ve been quite vocal in society about regretting your broken engagement and wanting him back.”
Cordelia’s perfect composure cracks slightly. “My previous relationship with His Grace is irrelevant to this proceeding.”
“Is it?” Mr. Pemberton challenges. “Because it seems quite relevant when you’re petitioning to annul his current marriage while simultaneously pursuing him romantically. This isn’t concern for Their Graces’ welfare. This is vindictive interference from a woman who wants to force the Duke back into her life by destroying his current relationship.”
The judges confer again while Emmy sits there desperately hoping that exposing Cordelia’s true motivations will be enough to save their marriage, and when Bishop Howard finally speaks his tone is carefully neutral.
“This court will take a brief recess to deliberate,” Bishop Howard announces. “We’ll reconvene in one hour with our ruling.”
The next hour is torture—Emmy and the Duke waiting in an adjacent room while the judges decide their fate, Mr. Pemberton trying to reassure them while looking increasingly worried, both of them too anxious to do anything but sit in tense silence and hold hands.
“Whatever happens,” the Duke says quietly while they wait, “I want you to know that I don’t regret marrying you. Even if they annul it. Even if Cordelia wins. These past four months with you have been the first time I’ve felt alive since Caroline died. That’s worth something regardless of what the court decides.”
“Don’t talk like we’ve already lost,” Emmy argues, even though she’s terrified they have. “We might still win. The judges might see that our marriage is genuine despite the delayed consummation.”
“Maybe,” the Duke says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.
When they’re finally called back to the courtroom, Emmy’s hands are shaking and her stomach is churning and she’s certain she’s going to be sick because losing this case means losing the Duke, losing their fragile almost-real marriage, losing everything they’ve built over four painful months.
Bishop Howard looks at them with an expression Emmy can’t read, and when he speaks his voice is formal and final.
“This court has reviewed the evidence presented by both parties,” Bishop Howard begins. “We acknowledge that the marriage between the Duke and Duchess of Ashford was entered hastily and under circumstances that raise questions about intent. We acknowledge that the marriage remains unconsummated after four months, which is unusual and concerning. We acknowledge Lady Cordelia’s evidence of separate chambers and limited contact for the majority of the marriage.”
Emmy’s chest tightens with each acknowledgment because they all sound like reasons to grant annulment, and she squeezes the Duke’s hand harder while bracing for the worst.
“However,” Bishop Howard continues, “we also acknowledge that marriages entered for practical purposes can develop into genuine partnerships over time. We acknowledge His Grace’s testimony about trauma preventing consummation and note that such trauma is understandable given his previous wife’s tragic death. Most significantly, we acknowledge that both the Duke and Duchess have testified under oath that they love each other and wish to remain married.”
Emmy’s breath catches at that shift—from listing reasons to annul to listing reasons to preserve—and she sees the Duke’s expression shift from resigned defeat to cautious hope.
“Therefore,” Bishop Howard concludes, “this court denies Lady Cordelia Vane’s petition for annulment. The marriage between the Duke and Duchess of Ashford is ruled valid and binding. However, we strongly encourage Their Graces to consummate their marriage within a reasonable timeframe to eliminate any future questions about validity. This court is adjourned.”
Emmy doesn’t process the ruling for several seconds—can’t quite believe they won, that their marriage is safe, that Cordelia lost—and then she’s turning to the Duke who’s looking equally stunned and relieved and grateful.
“We won,” Emmy says unnecessarily. “They denied the annulment. We’re still married.”
“We’re still married,” the Duke confirms, and then he’s pulling Emmy into his arms right there in the courtroom and holding her while they both try to process that they survived Cordelia’s assault, that their marriage is valid, that they don’t have to lose each other.
Cordelia storms out of the courtroom without speaking to anyone, her perfect composure finally shattered by losing the case she was so certain she’d win, and Emmy watches her leave with satisfaction that’s probably uncharitable but entirely deserved.
“Thank you,” the Duke says to Mr. Pemberton. “For fighting for us. For believing our marriage was worth saving.”
“It was my pleasure, Your Grace,” Mr. Pemberton responds. “Though I do recommend following the court’s advice about consummation. Just to eliminate any possibility of future challenges.”
“We will,” the Duke promises, and when he looks at Emmy she sees something different in his expression—determination replacing fear, desire replacing hesitation, actual readiness instead of just intention.
They return to the townhouse in the Duke’s carriage, both of them still processing their unexpected victory, and when they enter the house the Duke surprises Emmy by leading her directly to his chambers instead of suggesting they celebrate with friends or inform Lady Margaret of the outcome.
“I want to do this right,” the Duke says as they enter his rooms. “I want to actually consummate our marriage. Not because courts require it. Not because we need to produce an heir. Just because I love you and I’m tired of letting fear prevent me from showing you that.”
“Are you sure?” Emmy asks, because she doesn’t want him forcing himself just because the court suggested timely consummation. “We can wait if you’re not ready.”
“I’m ready,” the Duke says with surprising certainty. “For the first time since Caroline died, I’m actually ready to move forward instead of just being trapped in the past. And I want to move forward with you.”
Emmy’s heart is racing as the Duke moves closer, and when his hands cup her face with surprising tenderness she sees actual desire in his ice-blue eyes instead of just duty or obligation.
“I love you,” the Duke says again. “And I want this. I want you. Not someday. Not eventually. Now.”
“Now,” Emmy agrees, and when the Duke kisses her it’s different from the desperate kiss in the carriage—less frantic, more intentional, filled with love instead of just want.
They won their court case.
Saved their marriage.
Proved their love is real.
And now—finally, after four months of waiting—they’re ready to make that love complete.
On their terms.
When it’s right.
When they both truly want it instead of just feeling pressured by external forces.
And Emmy knows with absolute certainty that waiting was worth it.
For this moment.
For this choice.
For this love that survived fear and grief and vindictive interference to become something real.
Finally.
Reader Reactions