Page 30 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
Annabelle wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, still clutching Patches by her side. The tender warmth of his affection provided a brief respite from her overwhelming emotions. She found herself envying the simplicity of his existence—the way he lived in the present moment, unaffected by the intricacies of human affairs.
Gazing into Patches' deep, soulful eyes, Annabelle couldn't help but wonder if she, too, could find a way to rise above her circumstances. She yearned for the strength to confront Oswald, to challenge his intentions, and to assert her own desires.
The thought of facing him, however, sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that she couldn't rely on Patches alone. She had to gather her own resolve, find her voice amidst the tangled web of societal expectations and personal desires.
“I won't let him dictate my future,” she whispered fiercely, her determination slowly overpowering her despair. “I am not a pawn to be moved at his whim. I will fight for my own happiness.”
With resolve battling for defeat in her heart, Annabelle tilted her head, her tear-streaked face lifted towards the sky. The meadow, once suffused with sorrow, now held the promise of her inner strength. If only I could grasp it, she thought, fresh tears filling her eyes. She took a deep breath, feeling the crisp air filling her lungs, and whispered a heartfelt plea to the heavens above.
As much as she wanted to stand firm against Oswald, she knew she stood little chance of succeeding. He was her guardian, after all. The only way she could get out of the arrangement of marrying Lord Spencer would be if she had another suitor who asked for her hand. But who would ever do such a thing?
Moments later, the familiar sound of the duke’s approaching footsteps reached Annabelle's ears, causing her heart to flutter anxiously. She had sought solace in the meadow, but now the arrival of the man she trusted and admired brought a mix of relief and trepidation. She wondered if he could sense the turmoil within her if her distress was as palpable to him as it was to herself.
As the Duke drew nearer, his footsteps growing louder and more distinct, Annabelle took a deep breath to steady herself. She straightened her posture, hoping to hide the traces of tears that stained her cheeks. Despite her efforts, her trembling hands betrayed her unease. He looked toward her, his unseeing eyes seeming to peer right into her soul. They remained silent for several long seconds before she finally spoke.
“Your Grace,” she stammered, her voice betraying her emotional state. “I... I did not expect to see you here.”
His voice, normally gentle and warm, softened even further as he responded, concern lacing his words.
“Miss Ludlow, are you well?” he asked. “You seem... troubled.”
The tenderness in his voice touched a tender chord within her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to revel in the comfort of his presence. But the weight of her burden bore down on her, and she knew she couldn't keep the truth hidden any longer. She needed someone to confide in, someone who could understand the gravity of her situation.
With hesitant desperation, Annabelle mustered the courage to let him in on Oswald's plans. She spoke in a hushed tone, the words carrying the weight of her fears.
“My Uncle Oswald... he... he intends to... marry me off,” she said, tears streaming down her face once more. “He has made an arrangement to have me wed to a most elderly, unsavory gentleman. And he has seen fit to not give me a choice in the matter.”
The words hung in the air between them, the silence amplifying the magnitude of her revelation. The future she had once dreamt of seemed to crumble before her very eyes, replaced by a vision she dreaded. She anxiously awaited the Duke’s response, hoping against hope that he would offer her guidance, support, or even just a glimmer of understanding.
The duke was silent for a long moment, his features obscured to her, given his near-total blindness. She felt his gaze upon her, his eyes seemingly squinting, as if he were attempting to observe her as well as he could. In that quiet pause, a storm of emotions raged within her—fear, uncertainty, and a desperate yearning for a better outcome.
Finally, the duke broke the silence, his voice laden with sympathy.
“Miss Ludlow, I cannot fully fathom the depth of your distress,” he said, his voice filled with compassion and tenderness beyond what she could have expected. “However, I promise you this—I will do everything within my power to aid you.”
His words, though not a definitive solution, provided a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had enveloped her. Annabelle took solace in his unwavering support, knowing that she had someone by her side, even if there was nothing he could do but show her kindness, as he was right then.
“I fear there’s little that can be done,” she said, her voice trembling again. “My uncle has made up his mind. He believes that it’s up to me to marry and bail him out of his debts.”
The duke nodded thoughtfully, and Annabelle witnessed an array of emotions flicker across his face. She also noticed that expression spoke of an idea long before more words left his lips.
Suddenly, as if out of the depths of her tumultuous thoughts, the duke made an offer that left Annabelle stunned.
“What if you were to marry me?” he asked. “I could offer you a marriage of convenience. That way, you would not be forced to wed the man your uncle has selected for you.”
The words tumbled from his lips, weaving a proposition that she had never expected. A marriage of convenience—those three simple words echoed in her ears, their implications sending ripples of astonishment through her core.
Her gaze met his, searching for any hint of jest or insincerity, but all she found was earnestness and a flicker of vulnerability. Adrian's proposal held the promise of safety and respect, a haven from the oppressive control Oswald sought to exert over her. It was an unexpected lifeline, a lifeline she had never thought possible.
“I would provide for you, always,” the duke continued. “Nothing would be expected of you, except in your duties as duchess. You would be free to do as you please the rest of the time. And, of course, I would handle any financial expenses necessary, including those to clear your uncle’s debts.”
As she listened to his persuasive words, her heart stirred with confusion. She had always dreamt of a marriage born out of love, a union steeped in shared affection and deep connection. Yet, here was an escape, a refuge from the suffocating grasp of Oswald's intentions. A union with the Duke of Thornwood would provide her with a shield against the storm that threatened to consume her.
Annabelle's mind whirled with conflicting emotions. She questioned if it was a betrayal of her own dreams to consider such an arrangement. But the alternative, a life bound to Lord Spencer, was far more dreadful.
She closed her eyes for a moment, seeking clarity amidst the whirlwind of thoughts. The weight of the duke’s offer bore down on her, and she realized that sometimes, dreams had to be adjusted, reshaped to fit the contours of reality. In his proposal lay an opportunity to forge her own path, to carve out a measure of control over her destiny. But why would he make her such an offer? Of what consequence was she to him that he would be willing to give up his own freedom?
“Your Grace, this... I could have never anticipated this,” she said truthfully. “I have always longed for a love that transcends convenience. But in your words, I find a way to break free from the clutches of Oswald's intentions. A union of convenience, built upon trust and mutual respect, may be the only way to safeguard my happiness and reclaim my own autonomy.”
