Page 49 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
Annabelle sat between Penelope and Henry, their lively banter drawing a soft smile on her lips. Penelope's parents, laughed along at their antics, while Lady Westfield chimed in with her own wit. The air was thick with camaraderie and joy, the conversation flowing seamlessly from one topic to another.
“Congratulations to my dear friend, Henry,” Adrian said, rising to toast his friend once the main course of the meal had been served. “You rode an incredible race, and you deserve the ribbon that you received.”
Henry grinned, raising his wine glass as everyone else followed suit.
“Thank you, my good man,” he said, humbly nodding to everyone at the table. “But I couldn’t have done it without the support of all my closest friends.”
Penelope giggled and blushed, giving Henry a doting gaze. Annabelle saw the wink that Henry gave her and smiled at the two of them. They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company very much. And Annabelle thought that was wonderful. They certainly got along famously, as far as she could see. She smiled at her friend, who blushed again as she touched her glass to Henry’s. The toast concluded with a round of applause from the table.
Yet, amidst the laughter and jokes, one topic reigned supreme - the upcoming village summer ball. Speculations about the beautiful gowns, the food, and the possible romantic rendezvous filled the air with an intoxicating sense of anticipation. Amidst the excitement, Annabelle's mind drifted towards Adrian, picturing the two of them swirling on the dance floor, lost in their own world.
The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur, and before she knew it, it was time to leave. As she rose from her chair, bidding her goodbyes, she felt a gentle hand on her arm. She turned to find Adrian, a tender smile playing on his lips.
“Annabelle,” he began, his voice low, causing a delicious shiver to run down her spine. “Might I see you at the meadow tomorrow?”
His words caught her by surprise. The meadow held a special place in their hearts; it was where their love had first bloomed, surrounded by wildflowers and the chirping of birds. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could escape from their duties and lose themselves in each other.
She studied his face, his eyes flickering with a mix of anticipation and the familiar hint of anxiety she had noticed earlier. She wondered what stirred behind those emerald orbs, what was the reason for this unexpected invitation. But, seeing the earnest plea in his gaze, she knew she couldn't refuse.
“Of course, Adrian. I would love that,” she responded, her voice steady despite the fluttering of her heart. She offered him a reassuring smile, placing her hand over his in silent affirmation.
His face relaxed, his shoulders dropping a fraction.
“Wonderful,” he said. “Until tomorrow, then.”
As she left the room, her mind was a whirl of thoughts and questions, her heart pounding with anticipation. The meadow, their meadow, awaited them tomorrow. And with it, perhaps, the answers to the questions that echoed in her mind, in their shared silences. With hope burning brightly in her heart, she looked forward to unraveling the mystery that was Adrian, her betrothed.
Chapter Twenty-three
As dawn broke the next day, the enchantment of the Regency era presented itself. Underneath a warm golden sunrise, Adrian, a man of grace and charm but concealed insecurities, found himself in the idyllic meadow accompanied by his trusty steed, Patches. He was there to meet the sparkling gem of his life, Annabelle. An oasis of serenity, the meadow offered them a comforting seclusion, a refuge from prying eyes and bustling society.
Adrian gazed at the meadow, awash in soft morning light. The verdant expanse spread out before him, a symphony of nature humming quietly. The twittering of birds melded with the rustling of leaves, creating an ambient sonata that was almost as soothing as Annabelle's melodious voice.
He caught a blurry glimpse of her, a vision in a dress of soft ivory, the morning light lending a luminous quality to her already radiant beauty. He couldn’t be sure. But it felt to him like each time he encountered Annabelle, he could see her just a little better. Perhaps, it was foolish. But he couldn’t deny that he loved what he did see.
He swallowed hard, overcome with emotion.
“Annabelle,” he greeted her, his deep voice echoing the warmth in his heart. He leaned on his cane as he offered her his arm.
She turned, and he felt her face lighting up upon seeing him.
“Adrian,” she called back, the corners of her mouth lifting into a genuine smile that reached her eyes.
He bowed slightly, smiling again as she took his arm.
“Would you join me for a walk this morning?” he asked.
Annabelle giggled.
“I would be delighted,” she said.
They ambled towards the small brook, their footfalls muffled by the thick carpet of summer grass as they exchanged pleasantries. Part of him was afraid to let her see how vulnerable he felt. But another, bigger part of him hoped that the two of them, soon to be one in wedded matrimony, could open up about their forthcoming union.
Adrian was, by all accounts, the picture of eloquence. Yet, he had his vulnerabilities, his sight-related insecurities often haunting him. Would he prove a good enough husband, he wondered, unable to see the worry reflected in his azure eyes.
“Annabelle,” he began, the timbre of his voice betraying a hint of unease. “Are you... Do you ever wonder if this will work? Between us, I mean.”
She turned to him, concern etching lines on her forehead. She reached for his hand, the warmth of her touch a balm to his anxieties.
