Page 31 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
As the words left her lips, she felt a surge of both relief and trepidation. She hoped she hadn’t offended the kind duke. They, indeed, did have some kind of connection. But surely, one could not call it love. Could they? In this moment, she embraced the possibility of a different kind of love—one that bloomed from an alliance of understanding and shared goals.
Adrian's eyes softened, his gaze filled with a mixture of empathy and determination. He reached out and gently touched her damp cheek, his touch imbued with tenderness.
“Miss Ludlow, I understand your reservations,” he said. “And I promise you this: I will do everything within my power to ensure that this union we contemplate is one filled with compassion, respect, and perhaps, with time, even a deeper connection.”
As Annabelle contemplated her options, her heart yearning for a way out of the suffocating grasp of Oswald's intentions, her gaze lingered on Adrian. There was a safety, a refuge, that seemed to emanate from him—a lifeline she couldn't ignore.
With a deep breath, she made her decision. She smiled softly at the duke, her voice steady but filled with a mix of apprehension and hope.
“Your Grace, I... I accept your proposal,” she said.
Relief washed over her as Adrian's expression softened, and he gently squeezed her hand in acknowledgment. His touch provided reassurance, a glimmer of comfort in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead.
His voice, filled with conviction, broke through the silence that enveloped them.
“Miss Ludlow, you have made a brave choice,” he said. “I promise you, I will not falter in my commitment. I shall call upon Oswald to declare my intentions, ensuring that the world knows you have found sanctuary within our union.”
Her heart fluttered at his words, a mixture of gratitude and anticipation swelling within her. In Adrian's unwavering resolve, she found strength—a beacon of hope that just moments before she thought was lost to her.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she whispered, staring at him with wonder.
The duke nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I assure you, it is my pleasure, Miss Ludlow,” he said.
Chapter Fifteen
“Your Grace, you are a bundle of nerves today,” Blake said as he helped Adrian into a deep purple suit.
Adrian gave his valet a sheepish smile, feeling like he was, in fact, nothing but a bundle of raw nerves.
“Today, I am going to make a formal offer for a lady’s hand in marriage,” he said.
Blake fell silent, and from the milky blur of his vision, he could sense that the valet was staring at him in shock.
“Indeed?” he asked. “This is certainly an unexpected surprise.”
Adrian nodded.
“For us both,” he said. “But I believe that I am making the right decision.”
Blake continued looking at him, and Adrian knew he would be thinking that his master had lost his mind.
“Is that so?” he asked.
Adrian thought about Miss Ludlow’s musical laugh, and how his heart had broken when her laughter had been reduced to heart-wrenching sobs.
“It is,” he said softly, with more determination than he had ever felt in his life.
The valet stared at him for a moment longer. Then, he finished his work on the suit, ushering Adrian to his vanity.
“Then we must be sure that you look your best,” he said.
A short time later, Blake was ushering him out of the door of his chambers, escorting him down the stairs to join his aunt for breakfast. The soft morning light streamed through the lace curtains, casting a delicate glow over the elegant dining room as Adrian sat down at the breakfast table. A sense of anticipation mingled with his morning tea, for he knew today held a conversation of utmost importance. Beside him, his aunt Marjorie, a woman of great wisdom and compassion, exchanged a knowing glance.
“Your entire demeanour has changed, my darling,” she said. “Have you reached a decision about dear Annabelle?”
Adrian took a deep breath. He had hidden away in his chambers after issuing his proposal to Miss Ludlow. He was in luck; his aunt had retired early the evening before, which had given him plenty of time to think. His intention had been to tell her at breakfast that day. But now that the time had come, he was terribly nervous.
