Page 65 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
“Your Grace, there’s a letter for you.” He held it out with both hands, presenting it to Annabelle as if it held the weight of the world.
Annabelle’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Who would be writing her so soon after their wedding? Taking the letter with hesitant hands, she examined the seal. Her heart sank. The wax bore the mark of her father’s solicitor.
She carefully broke the seal and began to read aloud. Adrian, sensing her growing unease, moved closer, his arm instinctively encircling her waist. The room felt as if the temperature had dropped several degrees.
“Dearest Annabelle,” she began, her voice trembling, “It is with great regret that I convey a disturbing revelation. Your uncle Oswald, motivated by greed and a lack of honour, manipulated my trust and fabricated documents claiming your family estate as his own.” Her hands shook, the paper crinkling under her grip. “It transpires,” she continued, her voice barely audible, “that the estate was always destined for you.”
Adrian’s face darkened, a mixture of anger and disbelief.
“That scoundrel,” he growled. “No wonder he was so quick to try to trade you off like a piece of furniture.”
Tears welled up in Annabelle’s eyes, memories of her beloved father flashing before her. “I always felt something amiss about Uncle Oswald’s sudden claim to our estate after Papa’s passing. But I couldn’t believe he’d stoop to such levels.”
Adrian held her tightly, his heart breaking at the raw pain in her eyes.
“We will make this right, darling,” he said softly, looking at her with his kind eyes. “We will reclaim what is rightfully yours.”
The room, once filled with the warmth of their love, now echoed with a newfound purpose. They would face this challenge head on, united in love and resolve. But there was more. The letter went on to say that Lord Spencer, who was far less than reputable, was legally owed money from Oswald. Annabelle’s heart began to race again as she read of the man she was almost forced to marry and his plans to seek out her uncle. She looked at her husband with wide eyes.
“Surely, he will not come here,” she breathed.
Adrian chuckled, catching her off guard.
“I hardly think so,” he said. “He is beneath the station of a duke, my darling. You and I are both above him in status. He has long since been apprehensive about approaching me. Besides, from the sound of this letter, it seems that he plans to personally track down your uncle and extract what is owed to him.”
Annabelle reread the last part of the letter. It seemed that Adrian was right; Lord Spencer had contacted her father’s solicitor in an effort to locate Oswald. Upon failing, he merely wrote a missive, stating that he was to be contacted at once if Oswald Ludlow made an appearance, and that he would seek other means of helping to locate him in the meantime.
Annabelle breathed a sigh of relief. Breakfast was hardly ended, and already she had been through a sea of emotions. But the news was largely good. With Oswald missing, and her legal rights status to her family’s property restored, she could reclaim her childhood for her own. And there would be nothing he could do about it.
***
The grand drawing room of Annabelle’s ancestral home was bathed in the soft, dusky light of late afternoon. Rich tapestries, aged paintings of her forebears, and gilded mirrors adorned the walls, each bearing silent witness to the room’s rich history.
Annabelle stood by the fireplace, lost in thought, her fingers gently tracing the ornate carvings on the mantelpiece. She had been thrilled when Adrian suggested they visit her old home. But now that she was there, she was having a mixture of emotions. The knowledge of her Uncle Oswald’s deception had left a hollow feeling in her chest, yet from the ashes of that treachery, an idea began to blossom.
Adrian, sensing the depth of her contemplation, approached her quietly.
“You’ve been distracted today, my love,” he said. “What weighs on your mind?”
Annabelle took a deep breath, her brown eyes meeting his with determination.
“Our estate... this grand home with its countless rooms... what if we could give it new purpose?” she asked. “A purpose that would honour my father’s memory and the legacy of our family.”
Adrian tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“It sounds like you might have an idea or two,” he said with a smile. “What do you propose?”
She took his hands, her fingers trembling with excitement.
“A school, darling,” she said. “A school for the less fortunate children of the village. An opportunity to provide them with education, hope, and a brighter future.”
Adrian looked around the room, seemingly envisioning the potential transformation.
“It’s a bold idea,” he said. “And a noble one. But are you sure?”
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“When I think of the potential, of the laughter and learning that could fill these halls, I feel a warmth in my heart,” she said. “It would be a way to ensure that the wrongs done by Uncle Oswald are righted in some way.”
