Page 54 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
Adrian bristled. A demand for hush money. A threat to cancel the betrothal. Adrian’s world tilted on its axis, the implications of Oswald’s words sinking in slowly. He could feel the heat of anger rising, threatening to choke him. But the larger part of him was filled with cold dread, an icy fear gnawing at the edges of his heart. Not for himself but for Annabelle. For the scandal it would bring upon her, the shame it would cast on her family.
“Perhaps, pay your friend back his money,” he said, trying to hide how badly his mind was reeling. “As for the rest, it seems that you are less concerned about Annabelle’s honour than you are in gaining a profit from her.”
Oswald uttered a strange screech that was somewhere between a laugh and a growl.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear,” he said as though Adrian hadn’t spoken. “Pay off my debt to Lord Spencer if you want Annabelle’s hand.”
Adrian swallowed, his hands trembling and his heart racing. At his feet, Patches continued a steady, low growl. He wanted to tell the drunken man that he would pay any price for Annabelle. But the interaction had him so flustered that he could hardly speak.
“And if you do not comply,” Oswald pressed, “The betrothal is off. I’m sure the whole village would love to hear about your little...misadventure.”
Adrian’s mind spun as he battled the shock and anger surging within him. His hands itched to knock Oswald from his smug perch, but he knew that violence wouldn’t solve this. He needed a plan, and fast. But for now, he had to keep Oswald talking, keep him distracted. The less he thought, the more likely he’d slip, revealing a weakness Adrian could exploit.
Still reeling from the audacious threats, he was at a loss for words. The game had changed, and he wasn’t sure how to play it. But he knew one thing for certain: he wouldn’t let Annabelle suffer the consequences of Oswald’s greed and malice. No matter the cost.
Adrian was on the verge of retorting, his jaw clenched, eyes sparking with a dangerous blend of anger and determination when another voice sliced through the tension-laden atmosphere.
“Mr. Ludlow, fancy seeing you out and about so early in the morning,” Henry said.
Adrian’s loyal friend and confidant emerged from the thicket, his voice filled with stern admonishment. The surprise arrival momentarily stunned Oswald, his teeth snapping closed in disbelief. Adrian himself was quite surprised, and he gave his friend a grateful nod.
“Good morning, Henry,” he said, glad to have a distraction. “Mr. Ludlow came to discuss his niece.”
Henry moved closer, putting himself between the two men.
“So I heard,” he said, his tone clipped and menacing. “And it sounds as though the conversation is finished. Thus, perhaps it is time for you to take your leave, Mr. Ludlow.”
There was another long moment of silence. Then Oswald, with his tail between his legs, retreated without another word. Adrian watched him go, his previous fury now replaced with immense relief.
The tension in the air didn’t dissipate entirely, but it lightened considerably with Oswald’s departure. Adrian turned to Henry, a torrent of gratitude welling up within him.
“Henry,” he said, “I cannot express...”
Henry raised a hand, silencing him.
“There’s no need, Adrian,” he said firmly. “That man is intolerable, and he had no business bullying a blind man.”
Adrian smirked. He was aware that Oswald was also disabled in his own right and considered it a fair confrontation. But he was more physically able bodied, as well, and he could have gotten in serious trouble if they had resorted to a scuffle.
“Thank you just the same, my friend,” he said. “That man is true evil, I believe.”
Henry clapped Adrian on the back, leaning down to scratch Patches, who had returned to his usual friendly demeanor, on the head.
“Let’s get you home,” he said.
The walk back to Thornwood was filled with silence, but it was a comfortable one. The silence of two friends who knew that words, at times, were unnecessary. Adrian’s mind was still spinning, though Henry’s steady presence anchored him. The morning’s event had jolted him, yet his resolve remained unshaken – he would protect Annabelle at any cost.
As they reached the Thornwood estate, the murmur of hushed voices brushed against Adrian’s ears. His heart constricted as he recognized the speakers – Marjorie and Annabelle, their tones laced with a gravity that chilled him to the bone. His feet felt leaden as he moved closer, a new apprehension seizing him. The morning’s calm had given way to a whirlwind of tensions, and the storm, it seemed, was far from over.
Adrian halted at the entrance of the parlor, the strain in Marjorie’s voice pulling at his heartstrings. With a lump in his throat, he silently observed Annabelle. Her demeanor, usually a beacon of joy and warmth, was a portrait of distress.
“Annabelle, you mustn’t let yourself worry so,” Marjorie implored, her voice a soothing whisper. “We will not let anything happen to you. Not even due to your uncle.” But her words seemed to do little to ease Annabelle’s anxiety. Adrian felt an overwhelming urge to be her source of comfort, to replace the fear in her eyes with reassurance. He could guess that Oswald must have said or done something to hurt Annabelle. That was enough for him to become fiercely defensive of her.
As if sensing his presence, Marjorie glanced up, her eyes meeting his. She rose from her seat to quickly embrace him, putting her lips to his ear.
“She needs you, darling,” she whispered softly. “Her uncle is trying to force that horrid friend of his on her again. Go to her. Comfort her.”
Taking a deep breath, Adrian strode into the room. His gaze softened as he took in the sight of Annabelle, her delicate hands wringing nervously in her lap.
