Page 72 of My Blind Duke
“Shall we?” William held his arm out to her.
A part of her was terrified over the prospect of being so close to him, with her heart chained to her wrist, but as she steppedtoward him, she could not help but cling to him, already drunk off his scent.
“Do not stay awake for too long,” William told Melanie, drawing her closer with a hand under her chin and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, my dear.”
Melanie beamed, hugging him. “Have a good evening, Papa.” To Prudence, she gave a hug as well and wished the same.
“Good night, dearest.” Prudence cooed, before following William as he led her outside.
The carriage ride to the Larsen estate was quiet because Prudence was determined to keep a line drawn between them. And it seemed that William had a lot on his mind as well, as he made no move to foster any conversation between them.
Soon, they arrived at the Larsen’s dwelling and were ushered into the grand ballroom. The room was a storm of visuals and sounds, with glittering chandeliers, elegantly dressed guests, and the lively strains of the orchestra assaulted Prudence’s senses.
Scarcely had they been introduced to the event by the master of the ceremonies when the Marquess of Montclair appeared at their side. Prudence had crossed paths with him a few times before and after Anthony’s passing and was well aware he harbored no pleasant feelings toward her. But tonight, it seemed he had begun to see her in a different light, with his charmturned up to full wattage as he began to introduce her to a succession of seemingly eligible gentlemen.
From Prudence’s perspective, it felt like a carefully orchestrated parade. She felt dizzy and overwhelmed, with a twinge of embarrassment as she was paraded about like some show pony being promised to the public with the claims of not being as defective as one would believe.
She went through the motions with as much dignity as she could muster, offering polite smiles and engaging in stilted conversations, all the while knowing that her heart was not in it. Her thoughts were on William, wishing he was the one lavishing her with attention, her heart already missing his presence.
The men, however, were undeniably eager. They flocked around her, showering her with compliments on her appearance, her grace, and even the tragic circumstances of her late husband. Some were merely polite, offering conventional flirtations. But others, emboldened by the whispers and rumors that had undoubtedly reached their ears, were far more presumptuous.
“Duchess,” a portly gentleman with a lascivious gleam in his eye murmured, leaning in close enough for Prudence to detect the faint scent of stale wine, “I hear widowhood can be… quite liberating. Perhaps you would care to share some of your newfound freedoms with a man who truly appreciates a woman of… experience?”
“That cannot be right, Lord Ferguson,” William interjected with an expression far too innocent to be considered genuine. “Fromwhat I have heard about you, your own ‘experiences’ are few and far between – due to more than half the ton carrying information about your impotency. But you know, rumors are often just rumors.”
Another, younger man, with a smug air of confidence, offered, “My dear duchess, I am not one to shy away from a woman who knows her own mind… and her own desires. I understand you have a… reputation for enjoying life to the fullest. Perhaps we could explore those inclinations further, away from the prying eyes of society?”
“You have never held comprehension of the word ‘discrete’ in your life,” William scoffed, lifting his glass to toast in their direction. “Why else are people buzzing about your rather… unorthodox riding lessons with your stable hand?”
Prudence’s cheeks burned with a mixture of humiliation and outrage. The blatant disrespect, and the crude assumptions based on malicious gossip, were deeply offensive. She maintained a facade of polite indifference, offering vague replies and subtly attempting to extricate herself from their unwanted attention.
Through all these interactions, William cut into conversations with mean remarks, his expression barely withholding the rage on the other side of it. Clearly, he did not like what was happening, but she could not understand why he simply refused to change his stance. William’s stubbornness hurt her, as did his decision to cast her right into the arms of another man.
“What do you like to do in your spare time, Your Grace? When you are not entertaining people with vivacious interests, like yourself?” One of the men asked, stepping too close for her comfort.
Prudence turned away, unable to keep her eyes from seeking out William again. He had been moved across the room by the marquess and was now engaged in a seemingly polite conversation with Lady Ashworth, but Prudence could see that he could barely suppress his fury.
It was strange, how it was not merely her disinterest in this farce that was keeping her mind and heart open, but merely the fact that she did not want anyone else but the one man she could not have.
“I yearn. Pathetically so.”
William could not understand why he had been so foolish.
His ears, keenly attuned in the absence of sight, picked up snippets of the men’s offensive remarks directed at Prudence. He heard their condescending tones, their crude insinuations, and the blatant disrespect in their voices. A cold rage coiled within him, a possessive protectiveness he had not fully understood until this moment. The thought of these men, these vipers of the ton, daring to speak to Prudence in such a manner sent a tremor of fury through him.
But it had been his idea, and he had forced her to be subjected to such disrespect. Interfering was out of his hands now and he did not know what more he could do.
“Some of these men might be more inclined to try their luck if you were to give them your blessing – and encourage them to approach the duchess,” Hugo intoned with a sigh, obviously displeased with the brooding William was engaged in.
“Over my dead body,” the duke mumbled with a grunt.
It seemed that the duchess herself was not having as good a time as he wanted to believe because she came over and informed him,
“A group of ladies and gents would like to stroll through the garden maze. From what I have heard, it is quite elaborate. So–”
“I will come along with you,” William said immediately.
“No, that is not necessary–”
