Page 67 of My Blind Duke
“I tried – quite hard – to fight for a place here. Because I believed it was my right, as the former duke’s wife. But now, I have grown weary and tired. I had another purpose, but that has been fulfilled as well,” Prudence continued, trying to imbue her voice with a resoluteness she did not entirely feel. “Melanie and her father… they are finally mending their fractured relationship. The estate is running smoothly and efficiently.Everything is as it should be – as it would have been, without my presence here. There is no longer any real, pressing need for me to remain in this estate.”
The logic was sound, the reasons practical, yet a persistent whisper within her questioned the completeness of this decision.
“And what of your own needs, Your Grace?” Anna asked gently, setting aside the folded dress and turning fully to face Prudence, her eyes filled with a quiet concern that spoke volumes. “What is it that you truly need, beyond the fulfillment of duty?”
Prudence looked away, unable to meet Anna’s questioning gaze. Her own needs were a messy sea conflicting emotions, only silenced by the undeniable pull she felt toward William. A pull she knew she had to resist. Prudence let her haze wander to the lands outside the window, trying to distract herself as she forced her tongue and lips to curl around words that were difficult to utter.
“I need… a fresh start, Anna. Somewhere I am not constantly reminded of…” She trailed off, the unspoken truth of all that had weighted down on her, past and present. “Somewhere I can begin to build a life for myself, on my own terms, without the constraints and complications of all that has transpired in the last year.”
“And what of Lady Melanie?” Anna asked softly. “You have, if I may be so bold, Your Grace, grown quite remarkably attached to her.”
“She is a sweet child, undeniably so,” Prudence said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “And I do care for her, deeply. But as you witnessed just now, she and her father are finally, truly connecting. They will not require me to hover about, mediating, and encouraging, for much longer. They have rediscovered each other, Anna. They have each other now.”
She tried to convince herself as much as she tried to convince her loyal maid, the words echoing in the quiet room, sounding almost hollow.
Anna remained silent for a long moment, her expression thoughtful, her gaze steady. It was as though she knew the true depth of Prudence’s affection for Melanie, the countless hours the duchess had spent nurturing the young girl’s happiness. And it was likely that she also suspected that Prudence’s reasons for leaving Pemberly were far more intricate and emotionally charged than she was willing to articulate.
But in the end, Anna likely had an idea of Prudence’s pride, the unyielding determination that settled upon her once her mind was truly made up. And as such, there would be no reason to press on the matter any further.
“Wherever you choose to go, Your Grace,” Anna said finally, her voice filled with sincere loyalty that transcended her role as a mere servant, “I shall go with you. Your happiness, wherever it may lie, is and always will be my greatest concern.”
Prudence’s eyes welled up with a fresh wave of gratitude, the sincerity of Anna’s words a comforting balm to her troubled soul.
“Oh, Anna,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, reaching out to take her maid’s hand. “I truly do not know what I would ever do without you by my side. You are my only true friend.”
The following afternoon, as the estate fell into a gentle state of quiet, Prudence found herself meticulously organizing the contents of her writing desk. It had been long few hours of finalizing some of the more delicate arrangements for her eventual departure, and she could only hope it would occur quietly. As she put the last of her stationary away, a soft knock echoed at her chamber door.
“Your Grace,” the butler said, bowing slightly as he stood just inside the threshold, his usually composed face bearing a hint of earnestness that piqued Prudence’s curiosity. “His Grace requests your presence in his study at your earliest convenience.”
A nervous flutter stirred in the pit of Prudence’s stomach. She had not expected to speak to William alone since their undeniably intimate encounter in his study, a memory that still held a potent and unsettling pull, a reminder of the dangerous currents that flowed between them. And yet, it seemed she was fated to do so twice in as many days.
I really must leave this place soon.Before I have my heart broken completely,she sighed to herself as she went to his study to find him.
Prudence found him seated at his imposing mahogany desk, the familiar and comforting scent of aged paper, rich ink, and the subtle spice of sandalwood filling the air, a sensory reminder of his presence. One she would miss after her departure.
He turned his head slightly as she entered, his gaze, though unable to truly see her, seeming to penetrate her very soul, making her acutely aware of his awareness of her.
“J-Jefferson informed me you wished to see me, Your Grace?” Prudence asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor that she hoped he would not notice.
She clasped her hands together, trying to project an air of calm she did not entirely possess.
“Indeed, Duchess,” William replied, his tone more serious, more grounded than his usual playful banter. “I wished to express my sincere gratitude to you, in person, without the distractions of a shared meal or the presence of others.”
“There is truly no need for that, Your Grace,” Prudence said quickly, waving a dismissive hand, her cheeks flushing slightly under his intense, unseeing gaze. “As I said before, I simply did what any responsible adult would do for a child placed in their care. Melanie is a dear girl, and her happiness is… was… important,” she stumbled slightly over the past tense.
William’s brow furrowed slightly, a subtle line appearing between his dark eyes. “Responsibility?” he echoed, the single word laced with a hint of disbelief, a quiet challenge to her seemingly simple explanation. “If it were merely a matter of responsibility, you would not have invested yourself so fully. You would not have gone to such extraordinary lengths, employing such creative and heartfelt measures, to mend the fractured bond between Melanie and myself. Especially considering my own decidedly less than gracious behavior toward you upon my rather abrupt and, I now realize, somewhat churlish arrival to Pemberly. I apologize for that. I should have been more… sensitive to what you had endured.”
His words, spoken with a quiet sincerity that resonated deep within Prudence, chipped away further at the carefully constructed walls around her heart. They reminded her of the unexpected depths of kindness and perception she had discovered in this imposing, blind Duke.
A kindness that made her unknowingly open her heart to him, and led her to consider a life she had never thought she would have. Suddenly, all the strange notions began to reveal themselves and she gained an understanding of what had plagued her.
She was slowly… falling in love with William. She wanted to remain by his side, to live the rest of her days as his wife and even the mother of his child. Once it had set off on this path, her mind could only fall farther down the rabbit hole as she begun to wonder what such a life would look like.
But… that life was not meant for her. It would never be, because no one would want to give her such a chance. And it would be best for her to hasten her intentions to leave, before she gave into her hopes and ended up devastated.
“You have my profound and sincere gratitude, Prudence,” he continued the unexpected and intimate use of her given name sending a shiver, both pleasant and unsettling, down her spine. “You have, in a way I cannot fully articulate, brought a light back into my daughter’s life, a joy that had been absent for far too long. And in doing so… you have inadvertently brought a measure of unexpected peace back into my own existence. In more ways than I would have ever thought because I – ah. Never mind.”
His voice was soft, almost a caress, the timbre low and husky, and Prudence felt her heart clench with a longing so intense it was almost a physical ache. The carefully constructed dam of her resolve threatened to break, and the urge to confess her burgeoning feelings, to lay bare her plans to leave Pemberly and escape the very source of this emotional turmoil, rose within her, a desperate plea for honesty.
