Page 70 of My Blind Duke
“Then I met her,” he said, the memory of his late wife tinged with a complicated mix of guilt and regret. “A singer. Passionate, volatile… When she became pregnant, I did what I believed was the honorable thing. I married her, even though there was no real love between us. But Melanie… I loved Melanie from the moment she was born. She was so small, so spirited, and precious. And I did not want her to grow up in a household filled with the same bitterness and resentment that had defined my own childhood. So, I told my wife that we would separate, for Melanie’s sake.”
His voice dropped to a near whisper as he recounted the devastating events that followed. “She would not accept it. In a fit of rage, of vengeance, she set fire to my instruments, my compositions… everything that represented my past, my dreams. The fire spread. I managed to save Melanie, but… I lost my sight. And she… she perished in the flames.”
The silence in the study was heavy, filled with the weight of William’s painful confession. Prudence had listened intently, her initial anger and confusion replaced by a profound sense of sympathy for the man who stood before her, stripped bare of his defenses.
“I understand, William,” she said softly, her voice filled with compassion. “You have endured a great deal of pain.”
“And you see why I cannot… why I am hesitant to…” William trailed off, unable to articulate the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past, the fear of inflicting more pain on himself or another.
The vulnerability he felt at having revealed so much left him raw and exposed.
“I respect your decision, William,” Prudence said gently but firmly, the sudden closeness of her voice to him startling him a little. “But I cannot continue living under the same roof as you. The… the undeniable attraction between us, coupled with your understandable reservations, creates an impossible situation. I cannot be your mistress.”
His heart skipped a beat as her arms wrapped around him, holding him in her embrace for a moment before she slipped away.
Prudence then walked to the door, hesitating slightly with her hand reaching for the door handle, her heart heavy with a mixture of sadness and a resolute determination. She had to leave. For both their sakes.
But before she could escape, William’s hand shot out, his fingers closing around her wrist with surprising strength. He pulled her back, and before she could fully react, his lips crashed down on hers, a desperate, almost bruising kiss filled with a raw intensity that both startled and ignited a familiar spark within her. It was a kiss that spoke of fear and longing, of a desperate need to connect despite the chasm of their circumstances.
She responded instinctively, her own buried desires momentarily overwhelming her better judgment as her fingers clung to him desperately. In that moment, she wanted to accept it all, his tongue, his affection – though hesitant and complex, and his warmth.
But as the kiss deepened, as the familiar heat flared between them, a wave of despair washed over her. This was wrong. This would only make leaving harder, and would only further complicate the already tangled web of their relationship.
She pulled away, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes filled with a mixture of longing and a desperate plea.
“Please, William,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Please do not do this to me. Do not make this any harder than it already is.”
With a final, tearful look at the man who had unexpectedly captured a part of her heart, Prudence wrenched her wrist free and fled from the study, leaving William standing alone in the silence, the weight of his past and the stark reality of her impending departure pressing down on him with crushing force.
The weight of his regret forced the words he had been too dense to say out loud further down his throat as he realized how utterly foolish he had been.
He… he was in love with her. He wanted to marry her, make her the mother of his daughter.
But instead of saying all of that, he had dismissed his opportunity and lost her forever.
Chapter 23
Two days had passed since Prudence’s quiet declaration of leaving Pemberly, and for William, the estate felt both too vast and suffocatingly small. Every corner seemed to whisper her absence, every familiar scent carried a faint echo of her presence. He found himself caught in a relentless cycle of anger at her decision, a feeling strangely akin to betrayal, and a gnawing emptiness that settled deep in his chest.
He had busied himself with estate matters, poring over ledgers and dictating correspondence to his steward, but his thoughts kept straying, circling back to the sound of Prudence’s resolute voice as she had stated her intention to depart.
“Another blasted invitation,” William grumbled, his fingers tracing the embossed lettering on the card Jefferson had just placed in his hand. “The Duchess of Larsen. What does she want now?”
He had little patience for the social machinations of the ton, finding their endless round of balls and gatherings utterly pointless.
“The Duchess of Larsen is a gracious hostess, Your Grace,” Jefferson replied diplomatically. “And such events often provide networking opportunities.”
“Networking for what?” William scoffed, tossing the invitation onto his desk. “I am blind. I have no interest in securing advantageous marriages or bolstering my social standing. My concerns lie with Melanie and the smooth running of this estate.”
Just then, the marquess of Montclair, strolled into the study, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
“Come now, Your Grace,” he said, his voice laced with his usual easy charm. “Do not be so quick to dismiss such an invitation. The Duchess of Larsen’s balls are always well-attended, a veritable who-is-who of the aristocracy. It would be an excellent opportunity to cultivate connections, perhaps even find some advantageous business partners who could further secure Melanie’s future.”
William sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. “Montclair, you have grown rather fond of dropping by, unannounced, and it has grown rather tiresome. And honestly, I scarcely have the time or the inclination for such foolishness. My mind is occupied with far more pressing matters.”
Namely, the infuriatingly independent woman who was rather insistent on leaving his home.
William could quite literally hear the marquess’ smile grow, a hint of something calculating inflecting in his tone.
