Page 42 of My Blind Duke
“I suppose. I have not spent much time here. I simply stay in the gardens or the sunroom if I wish for a quiet and warm place. But today… I will admit that I am surprised by how lovely it is here. And all the little plants make me feel a little curious about what they could be,” she replied, smiling down at the leaves and petals around them.
“Do you like to garden?” the duke asked.
“Not particularly. My mother does. She tried to instill her love for it in my sister and me, but – I have never had much patience for tiresome activities. I was rather wild and rebellious in my youth if you can believe it,” she laughed a little.
“I can.”
Prudence stopped. “What?”
William shrugged and spoke, poking a flower pot with a cane that Prudence had never seen him use before.
“You. Being wild and rebellious in your youth. I can believe it. Because it is who you still are. I do not think you should ever change that about yourself. It is a quality I rather admire about you.”
Chapter 14
“And you, Your Grace? What were you like as a child?”
William paused to mull over Prudence’s question, wondering what he could say that would keep the light-hearted nature of the conversation.
He had meant it when he said Prudence’s personality suited her. He had not known her for very long, but it was hard to imagine her being anything other than the spirited vixen he had met. Although he could tell, she did not feel particularly good about it, given her tone when she said it.
It seemed as though she did not wish to betray any emotion over the fact that she had been considered troublesome growing up.
“I was a little bit of a disappointment, I suppose,” he told her eventually.
“You? I highly doubt that,” she said, her voice betraying that she did indeed feel that way.
“I mean it,” William chuckled. “My parents were wealthy, and I did not have any needs that were not met, but I wanted to be more than a rich tot who waited for a distant relative to pass so I could inherit his title. And what I wanted did not align with my father’s expectations. With how much we fought and argued over it, I might as well have been a defiant street urchin to him.”
Prudence was silent and for the first time in a long time, William wished he could see.
He had long since come to terms with his lack of vision. He had accepted that this was his life now and had learned to live with it, rather than dwell on the fact that it had been an unfair and cruel punishment.
And now and then, he would be filled with the overwhelming desire to see. But it was only ever in matters involving his daughter.
When Melanie had been sick. When she had gotten new dresses from the modiste and wore one of her favorites for a whole day. When he had scolded her for putting mud in his shoes. His biggest gripe with his blindness was that he was missing keeping so many memories of the one person his world consisted of.
But now, he wished he could see Prudence. He wished for more of a clue of what she was thinking than her silence.
“You know, I can actually see that. You are unnecessarily difficult about the silliest of matters. So, I can believe that you would be that way, even as a young man,” Prudence said eventually.
“Is that right?” he grinned.
“Absolutely. You likely still hold a grudge over it as well, because you strike me as the sort of man to remain petty about certain events and offenses.”
Well, she was not wrong. In some ways, he did resent his father for standing in the way of his dreams. Perhaps if he had been given support instead of animosity and pain for his defiance, he might have done things differently, and his life would not have ended up the way it eventually did.
“I do hope you have no regrets, though,” Prudence added suddenly. “Because whatever happened then, it all came together to give you the most precious gift you have. Your daughter.”
William felt his heart drop one moment and then soar the next.
Oh, how he utterly disliked this woman. It was truly vexing how easily she saw through him, how quickly she could get under his skin.
“You make a good point,” he conceded, just this one.
“I am glad you feel that way. My mother could hardly ever win an argument with me, but she always tried. Whenever she ran out of talking points, she would send me to sit in a corner as punishment. The longer I was in the corner, the angrier she was. She knew I was plotting my next prank.”
“You must have been a joy to raise.”
