Page 38 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
“And,” Henry continued, a hint of a smile creeping into his words, “Annabelle is stronger than you give her credit for. She possesses a spirit that is tenacious and vibrant. She can handle Oswald.”
The reminder was like a balm, easing Adrian's concerns. He knew Henry was right, Annabelle was strong and spirited. She was a woman of substance, her strength unmatched. His worries seemed to dissipate, like morning mist in the warmth of the sun.
“Yes,” Adrian said, his voice filled with newfound resolve. “You are right, Henry. Annabelle is indeed stronger than I realise.”
With Henry's reassuring words echoing in his mind, Adrian allowed himself to relax into the journey, his thoughts now focused not on his worries but on his faith in Annabelle. He knew she could handle whatever came her way, and he would be back soon to offer his firm support once more.
As the carriage rumbled on, a comfortable silence fell between the two men. The countryside outside their window continued its endless display of verdant, albeit dulled, hues, while within the confined space, each man was lost in his own world of thought. The steady rhythm of the horses' hooves on the uneven road provided a familiar soundtrack to their musings.
Finally, Henry broke the silence once more, his tone a stark departure from the light-hearted jesting earlier. The serious undertone made Adrian glance up in curiosity.
“Adrian,” Henry began, his gaze steady. “I must admit, I am rather content with your betrothal to Annabelle.”
Adrian's eyebrows lifted in surprise, intrigued by his friend's admission.
“Oh?” he asked, curiosity lending a keen edge to his voice.
Henry paused, presumably nodding, his gaze unfaltering.
“Indeed,” he said. “Miss Ludlow is a woman of many virtues - her kindness, authenticity, compassion, and resilience are admirable. Such qualities are rare, and she carries them with a grace that's enchanting.”
Adrian found himself grinning at Henry's earnest proclamation. He had known of Annabelle's virtues. But hearing them reaffirmed by his closest friend cemented their importance.
“And, most importantly,” Henry continued, a spark of warmth evident in his eyes, “I believe she will bring you great happiness, Adrian.”
The sincerity in Henry's voice, the conviction behind his words, reached Adrian with a force that made him catch his breath. He felt a rush of gratitude towards his friend, the weight of his previous concerns seemed to lighten.
“Thank you, Henry,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. His heart swelled with the comfort that Henry's words provided, the reassurance that he was making the right choice. Henry's encouragement was like a tincture on his previously troubled thoughts, filling him with a renewed sense of purpose and determination.
As they continued their journey, Adrian found himself lost in his thoughts once more, but this time, they were hopeful. He mulled over Henry's words, letting them soak in, strengthening his resolve. His mind filled with images of Annabelle – her sparkling eyes, her warm smile, her undeniable strength.
Yes, he decided, Annabelle was indeed the woman he was willing to spend his life with, and he was eager to make it a reality. A soft smile touched his lips as he gazed out the carriage window, the passing landscape a mere blur in his blind eyes. His heart pulsed with a rhythm of anticipation and profound love, beating a song for the future he envisioned – a future with Annabelle. He just hoped that she would be as content as he anticipated being himself.
***
As the carriage maintained its steady pace through the countryside, on day three of their journey, the inside of the luxurious coach became a sanctuary of shared recollections and laughter. The conversation between Adrian and Henry, who had just awakened, took a turn towards the past, a path laden with shared escapades and stories told in hushed tones beneath the cover of night.
“Do you remember the night we switched the ale for apple juice at Lady Carrington's soiree?” Adrian asked, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his eyes.
Henry burst into hearty laughter at the memory.
“Of course,” he said with a hearty, albeit sleepy laugh. “The look on old Sir Thompson's face when he took that first swig was priceless!”
Adrian found himself laughing along, the sound ringing in the enclosed space, echoing against the ornate fixtures and warming the cool morning air. The recollections served as a soothing balm to Adrian's troubled heart, the warm tendrils of nostalgia and friendship providing a welcome distraction.
The more they shared, the more Adrian found himself relaxed, his previous trepidation replaced with a sense of belonging and camaraderie. It was the same camaraderie that had sustained them through their youth, a bond that was unyielding in the face of time and change.
Despite the serious undercurrent of their journey, this moment of light-hearted reminiscing transformed the ride into an unexpected moment of respite. It was a welcome interlude in the otherwise daunting task of securing his future with Annabelle.
His heart, earlier filled with worry, began to flutter with hope, bolstered by the mirthful conversation. A renewed determination unfurled within him, steeling him for the challenges that were yet to come. The laughter within the carriage merged with the sound of the hooves against the gravel, weaving a soothing melody that danced in harmony with Adrian's heightened spirits.
As the miles disappeared behind them, so too did Adrian's apprehensions. His thoughts now held a newfound clarity, each beat of his heart pulsating with the promise of a life filled with love and laughter. A sense of peace washed over him as he realized that no matter the hurdles, he was not alone. With loyal friends like Henry and a love like Annabelle waiting for him, Adrian found himself ready to face whatever came his way.
Chapter Eighteen
Annabelle awoke as dawn's first light swept across the vast English countryside, the tender pink hues kissing her bare cheeks with a whisper of warmth. It was not the chirping birds or the gentle breeze that stirred her awake, but a sense of anticipation that swirled like an unfurling bud within her. Today, she had decided, would be different, better.
As she rose from her canopy bed, the embroidered silk coverlet slipped to the floor, echoing her determination to shed the constraints of her past. She called for Sarah, who helped her into her dress, a simple yet elegant gown in a gentle blue. Sarah then wound her hair into an unpretentious bun with waves of her chestnut hair dangling down and framing her face. She was a picture of elegance, a lady at the threshold of womanhood, her spirit as alive as the golden rays now peeking through her window.
