Page 24 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
Henry joined in his laughter.
“Or we were grabbing handfuls and painting each other with them,” he said.
Adrian shook his head, still laughing.
“My governess used to scold me fiercely for that,” he said. “But she loved me, and I think she always knew that I would do it again the next chance I got the chance.”
Henry nodded.
“And we did, until we were nearly grown,” he said.
The sound of their laughter echoed through the tranquil woods, reminiscent of the carefree days they had spent together.
As they wandered deeper into the woods, Adrian's mind wandered back to their shared memories, the mischief they had concocted and the adventures they had embarked upon. How time had flown since those days, like a fleeting summer breeze. The weight of responsibilities and societal expectations had settled upon their shoulders, but moments like these provided a brief respite from the pressures of adulthood.
Henry's voice interrupted Adrian's reverie, tinged with regret.
“I must apologise, Adrian,” he said, his tone growing serious. “I didn't mean to bring up the past in such a thoughtless manner. I know how difficult it has been for you.”
Adrian turned toward his friend, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“There is no need for apologies, Henry,” he replied, his tone warm and understanding. “You have always been honest with me, and I value that above all else. Your concern is genuine, and even though I hesitate to get back on a horse, I do know that I must someday.”
Henry was silent for a moment, and Adrian imagined he was contemplating what to say. The tension that had briefly hung between them dissolved like mist under the morning sun. Their bond, forged in the fires of shared experiences, remained unbreakable. Adrian reached out, stretching his arm upward and placing a comforting hand on Henry's arm.
“You need not worry,” he assured his friend, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I have come to terms with my injury, and though I may never ride again, it does not define me. I am still the same person you knew as a child, and that person will always cherish our memories together.”
Henry's body relaxed, and Adrian could hear the smile when he spoke.
“I'm grateful to have you in my life, Adrian,” he confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. “I cannot imagine my days without your friendship. No matter what challenges lie ahead, we will face them together.”
Adrian's heart swelled with affection for his friend, the depth of their connection running deeper than any obstacle.
“And together we shall overcome them,” he replied, his voice steady with conviction. “For we are bound not only by the threads of the past but by the unbreakable ties of friendship and understanding.”
They continued their leisurely stroll through the whispering woods, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above. Adrian's spirits lifted, his burdens momentarily forgotten in the company of a friend who knew him better than anyone else. Adrian truly was thankful for his friend. If it hadn’t been for Henry and Marjorie, Adrian would have surely lost his humanity in the years following his accident.
The tranquil atmosphere of Thornwood was suddenly punctuated by the sweet sound of feminine laughter, floating through the air like a melody. Adrian's heart skipped a beat, his senses instantly alert to the presence of someone new. Patches, his loyal companion, darted ahead with a playful bark, leading the way as if guided by an invisible thread.
Though Adrian's sight painted the world in blurred outlines, one silhouette stood out unmistakably against the verdant backdrop. It was Miss Ludlow, a vision of grace and elegance. Her delicate features and vibrant spirit had captivated Adrian from the moment he had first laid eyes on her. His pulse quickened, and a mix of anticipation and nervousness filled his being.
Henry, ever observant, dismounted from his horse with practiced ease. Adrian followed suit, his hand lingering on the saddle for support. As they approached Miss Ludlow, Adrian's heart swelled with a mingling of hope and uncertainty.
“Good day, ladies,” Henry greeted with a warm smile, his voice filled with genuine pleasure. “What a delightful surprise to find you here amidst the enchantment of Thornwood.”
Miss Ludlow's laughter sparkled like sunlight on a rippling brook. “Good day,” she said. “I must confess, it’s a happy coincidence that we run into people out here today. It was a spontaneous decision we made to explore these woods, but the serenity they hold is simply enthralling.”
Adrian bowed, listening intently, his heart racing with both eagerness and trepidation. He smiled at her, paying no mind to the second woman who accompanied her.
“Good day, Miss Ludlow,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Miss Ludlow turned her gaze toward Adrian, her eyes alight with contentment.
“And Your Grace, it is wonderful to see you again, as well,” she said, her voice warm and inviting. “Allow me to introduce my dear friend, Miss Penelope Brown.”
Adrian then briefly turned his attention to the other woman. She, like Miss Ludlow, was little more than a blur. But the ruffle of skirts told him that she curtseyed, so he bowed again in kind.
“Delighted to meet you, Your Grace,” she said.
