“What?” he asked.
His mother nodded slowly.
“They do not keep it a secret, exactly,” she said. “Truthfully, much of thetonalready knows. However, they do tend to avoid placing the poor girl in many social situations, and they never discuss it publicly. They do not wish to embarrass her any further by making mention of it.”
Val nodded slowly. He could very much relate to having a condition that was kept quiet outside the walls of home.
“Why did you invite her here, then?” he asked.
His mother gave him a kind smile.
“I had hoped that, if you could see her conduct herself in a normal manner, you would see that it is still possible for you to lead a normal life,” she said. “After all, you did not have a clue that she was almost blind until I told you, did you?”
Val suddenly leapt from his seat, his frustration once more rising.
“You are wrong,” he said. “There is no room in high society for people like me.”
Before the Duchess could answer, Val stormed out of the room. He locked himself in his bedchambers, promptly unlocking the door again. He would not spend the day feeling sorry for himself in his room. Instead, he would spend it wallowing in self-pity at a club. He combed his dark brown hair and changed his jacket, then summoned a carriage to take him into town immediately.
Once upon a time, he would have gone to one of the gentleman’s clubs, like White’s. His father had been a member of White’s, and Val himself had been preparing to appeal for membership, sponsored by his father. But after his accident and his newfound status as a social pariah, he knew that he would never belong in such a place ever again. Therefore, he had become accustomed to spending his evenings out with the working class of London.
There was one in particular he frequented before he departed for the far East. The place was called Frog’s, and it was located in the lower-class part of London. It was poorly lit and extremely quiet, likely because it was so rundown that very few people knew it was open for business. The bartender was abrasive but attentive, and the few patrons that ever visited when he was there all stayed to themselves. It was perfect for an abomination like him.
He was relieved to see that nothing had changed when he entered the club. Even the banners were still stained and ripped in the same places. The bartender glanced up when he approached, doing a double take as he recognized Val. Val removed his hat and nodded to him.
“Good day,” he said softly.
For the first time, the bartender had an expression other than cold indifference. It was not quite concerning, but it was enough to tell Val that the man was aloof rather than cruel.
“Take a seat, Your Grace,” he said almost kindly. “Give me your order and I will bring it to you.”
Val nodded gratefully.
“Scotch, straight, please,” he said.
The bartender nodded.
“Right away,” he said.
Val took his usual booth in the darkest corner at the very back of the bar. A moment later, the bartender arrived with two glasses of Scotch.
“Only charging you for one,” he said, putting them down firmly on the table.
Val reached into his coin purse and pulled out enough to pay for one of the drinks, plus a handsome tip.
“Thank you kindly,” he said, nodding again to the bartender. “Please, keep them coming.”
The man tilted his head, clearly curious about the strange, scarred Duke who always came alone and drank himself into oblivion when he was there. But he must have decided he didn’t care because he simply shrugged and pocketed the money.
“Sure thing,” he said.
Val finished the first glass before the bartender was completely out of sight. He took a long sip from the second one, thinking about what his mother had said. Her argument had been that having Lady Cecily over was to show him that a normal life was possible, but all it had done was prove to him that the opposite was true. As beautiful as she was, thetonwould shun her, as they had him, because of her differences. It was unfair, but it was how society worked.
An image of her face came to mind. She truly was lovely, with her strawberry blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. He had been entranced by them, even though he doubted that she had even seen him looking at her. Her blindness certainly explained the strange way she looked around the room, at her food, and at him. She wasn’t truly focusing on it. She was just trying to appear like she was.
With a gasp, he realized something else. She had not seen a single thing. Not the mansion, not the meal… and not his scars. That was the reason why she had held his gaze. Even if she could see some of his face, she had been unable to see his scars. His mind went back to his previous thoughts, and once more to what his mother had said.A normal life…
Chapter Seven
