Page 43 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
“The summer fair,” she breathed, a smile playing at her lips. “It's always such a delight. The villagers put in so much effort to make it a grand affair. The games, the food, the music - there's a certain magic in the air.”
Adrian listened as she lost herself in the memory, her enthusiasm infecting him. He could almost hear the laughter of the villagers, the rhythmic strumming of a lute, the sizzle of food cooking over open fires. For a moment, his heart was transported to the vibrant ambiance of the village fair, the sounds and smells playing out vividly in his mind's eye.
Before he could dwell further, Aunt Marjorie, in her typical, vibrant manner, seized the moment.
“Well, Adrian, you should accompany us,” she said. “It's been ages since you last attended, and besides, what better opportunity to be seen publicly as an engaged couple?”
Her words took a moment to sink in, and when they did, they left him grappling with a tempest of emotions. A public appearance as a couple? The notion struck him with a sudden wave of uncertainty.
In the depth of his silence, his mind was a tumultuous sea. To be seen, to be recognized as Annabelle's intended, filled him with a strange sense of trepidation. But there, amidst the churning doubts, glimmered a beacon of comfort. A vision of their shared future, crafted from shared interests and mutual respect, dawned upon him, softening the sharp edges of his apprehension.
Despite the blindness that shrouded his world, he yearned to give Annabelle more than just companionship. He yearned to walk with her, hand in hand, towards a future built on shared laughter, shared dreams, and the shared joy of simple pleasures like attending a village fair.
He glanced toward Annabelle, her radiant joy lighting up the room. He wanted to experience that joy with her, to be a part of the excitement that the summer fair promised. Even if the thought made his heart thump with anxiety, even if it was a step into the unknown, he found himself agreeing.
“I'd be honoured to attend the fair with you, Annabelle,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes locked on hers.
And in her smile, in the sheer happiness that radiated from her at his words, he found his fears subsiding, replaced by a strange sense of peace. Despite his uncertainties, he was ready to embark on this new journey, a journey that promised to be as exciting and vibrant as the village summer fair.
Chapter Twenty
The dawn of the village fair day arrived, the sun throwing its delicate tendrils over the dew-kissed English countryside. Annabelle's heart fluttered like a bird caught in a cage. Excitement danced within her, mingled with a trepidation that dampened her spirit. Today was the day. Today she would be announcing her engagement to Adrian, the kind-hearted yet blind man who had saved her from a life with an aging, despicable nobleman. She stole a glance at the mirror, her eyes shining in anticipation.
Padding softly across her chamber's polished oak floor, she pulled out a cream satin dress from her wardrobe, its delicate lace trim whispering of innocence and propriety. She called for Sarah, her heart skipping as she imagined the day ahead. She knew that Penelope would be there, helping her mother. And Adrian, the man who was to be her husband, would be in attendance, as well.
Once Sarah arrived, she helped her mistress to dress. Annabelle was as nervous as she was excited. She knew that the village would be alight with gossip about her sudden engagement to the duke. She didn’t mind; there were far worse men to be engaged to, such as Lord Spencer. But what would they think of the situation? What rumors would spread about an engagement that occurred before a courtship period?
But what would they have thought about an engagement to Lord Spencer? She thought with a shudder. She knew that arranged marriages for young ladies by their guardians were very common. But a woman of her age with an elderly nobleman like Lord Spencer would spark chatter within the ton just as quickly as a fast engagement to a blind duke. And she didn’t mind being betrothed to Adrian. In fact, she was coming to rather enjoy the idea.
Annabelle shivered as Sarah pulled Annabelle’s chestnut curls into a simple updo, a few tendrils left to cascade gently around her flushed cheeks. As she pushed the heavy wooden door open, the unmistakable scent of stale ale assaulted her senses. There in the cold, silent hallway stood Oswald, a figure silhouetted by the feeble rays of the morning sun seeping through the narrow windowpanes. He held a clear bottle of liquor clutched tightly in his hand.
His bloodshot eyes narrowed at her, his lips curving into an insidious sneer.
“Off to sell yourself to a blind man, are we now, Annabelle?” he slurred, the venom in his words only rivaled by the stench of liquor on his breath.
Her heart pounded in her chest, a surge of righteous indignation flaring within her. He had given his blessing for Adrian to marry her. She supposed that her uncle might have made such an agreement under the influence of the same thing he held in his hand right then. A lesser woman would have wilted under his loathsome remarks, but Annabelle possessed a resilient nature.
Raising her chin, she met his sneer with a cold, defiant gaze.
“Adrian may lack sight, Uncle,” she said. “But he has more vision, more kindness in his heart than you could ever aspire to possess,” she retorted, her voice firm, her eyes sparkling with defiance. Her heart thundered in her chest, the words she'd held back so long now echoing in the narrow corridor.
The sneer faltered on Oswald's face, replaced by a stunned expression. She held his gaze a moment longer, allowing the impact of her words to settle in. She then turned on her heel, her muslin skirts swishing around her ankles, leaving Oswald standing there, drunk, and speechless.
As she made her way to the staircase, Annabelle let out a shaky breath. She was a woman of courage, a woman who defended those she cared for. With each step she took, her anticipation for the fair – and her future with Adrian – grew, the apprehension slowly fading into the background. Oswald's taunts were but an unpleasant blip in her day, a test of her resolve. And she was determined to come out victorious.
After her turbulent encounter with Oswald, the solid oak door of Annabelle's family home opening to reveal Adrian, Marjorie, and Patches, the loyal dog, was a welcome relief. Adrian was poised as always, his tall frame dressed in tasteful, though not flashy attire, his countenance calm despite his lack of sight. Patches, ever faithful, wagged his tail merrily, his glossy coat shining in the soft morning light. And Marjorie, her rosy cheeks glowing with mirth, her eyes twinkling with an untold secret.
“Good morning, darling,” Marjorie said, looking her over and embracing her. “That cream coloured dress looks wonderful on you. And your simple hairdo with the lovely ringlets is just perfect for the fair.”
Annabelle pulled back, looking at Marjorie strangely for a moment. Then it occurred to her. Marjorie was used to describing things for Adrian. He was looking from her to his aunt, which silently confirmed her quiet theory. Instead of reacting, she simply curtseyed to her future aunt-in-law and smiled brightly.
“Thank you kindly, Marjorie,” she said. “And I must say that pink silk looks good on you, as well.”
At this, Adrian grinned brightly. Her heart skipped as he bowed to her.
“Aren’t I so fortunate, attending the fair with two beautiful women,” he said, almost shyly.
Annabelle smiled at him, wondering if he could feel the warmth.
