Page 59 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
As they rested on the shore, soaked and shivering, a torrent of emotions engulfed Adrian. Relief that they were safe, fear at the danger they had narrowly escaped, and a strong wave of self-doubt that churned within him, as relentless as the lake’s waves.
His inability to see had exposed them to danger. What had been a romantic stroll had transformed into a life-threatening incident in a mere heartbeat. He could feel the limitations of his blindness intensifying, gnawing at his confidence like a relentless tide eroding the shore. The question clawed at his soul: Could he truly provide Annabelle with the life she deserved, considering his blindness? Was he enough for her?
They sat together, their bodies clinging to each other for warmth and comfort. Her breaths, still slightly ragged, were warm puffs of air that tickled his neck. He could feel the beat of her heart, the gentle press of her body against his, and in those sensations lay the contradiction to his fears.
His love for her was a tangible thing, a connection that transcended mere physical sight. He knew her in ways that went beyond the superficial, in the timbre of her voice, the grace of her movements, the kindness and intelligence that shone in her words. The accident had unveiled his deep feelings for her, feelings he could no longer dismiss or suppress.
“Adrian?” Annabelle’s voice was gentle, probing, as if she sensed the turmoil within him. “Are you well? You’ve gone terribly quiet.”
He forced a smile, not wanting her to think he was upset with her.
“I’m just reflecting on what happened, my love. It has shaken me more than I care to admit.”
She leaned closer, her voice soft but firm.
“Adrian, look at me.” Her hand found his face, her fingers tracing the lines of worry etched there. “What happened today was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. Your blindness had nothing to do with it. It was my own fault. Not yours.”
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, wanting to believe her words, yet the doubt persisted.
“But what if, Annabelle?” he asked. “What if my limitations expose you to more danger in the future? What if I can’t be the husband you need?”
She hushed him with a gentle kiss, her lips lingering on his as if trying to soothe his fears away.
“Adrian, your kindness, your wisdom – these are the things that matter to me,” she said. “Not your sight. I know what I’m embracing, and I choose you, with all my heart.”
Her words were a balm, a healing touch to the raw wound of his self-doubt. He held her tightly, his love for her a flame that burned away the shadows of insecurity. But a shadow of his doubt still lingered. Would his love truly be enough to compensate for all his insecurities?
Chapter Twenty-eight
The following morning, Annabelle approached Thornwood Estate, her heart pounding with anticipation and lingering terror. The echoes of the previous day’s near tragedy still reverberated within her, casting a shadow over the manicured lawns and grand facades of the estate. It was not so much the memory of her slipping and falling into the cold water, but the image of Adrian’s face, pale and determined, as he reached out to pull her to safety. And there was the knowledge that he could have succumbed to the water, just as well as she could. That would have been her fault. And she didn’t know if she could have ever forgiven herself.
Adrian’s prompt action had saved her life, instilling within her a deep admiration for the man she was soon to marry. As she stepped onto the grounds of Thornwood Manor, she couldn’t help but feel her knees go weak at the thought of seeing him again. His face had been lined with guilt as they’d parted the previous day, and she knew that he had assumed responsibility for the incident. The accident had been nobody’s fault but her own, and yet Adrian had seemed tormented by what had almost happened.
“Miss Ludlow,” the butler greeted her, bowing. “Lady Marjorie is expecting you in the drawing room.”
Annabelle’s heart fell a little. She had hoped it would be Adrian waiting to greet her. Was he still upset about the previous day?
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
As she made her way to the drawing room, she couldn’t shake the sensation that her life had forever changed. No longer was Adrian simply her fiancé; he was her saviour, the man who risked himself to save her life. The man I love, she thought with amazement and wonder.
Upon entering the drawing room, Annabelle was greeted by Marjorie.
“Annabelle, darling,” Marjorie said, her voice carrying a tremor of worry as she embraced her. “How are you feeling?”
Annabelle smiled warmly at the older woman’s concern.
“I’m perfectly fine,” she assured her soon-to-be aunt-in-law. “What of Adrian. Is he all right?”
Marjorie chewed on her lip, glancing toward the window that overlooked the terrace.
“Adrian is in the rose garden,” she said. “He has been there since dawn, wrestling with guilt over what transpired yesterday. I fear it weighs heavily on him.”
Annabelle’s heart clenched at those words, but she maintained a calm demeanor as she replied.
“Marjorie, it was merely an accident,” she said. “My fault, if anything. Adrian should not shoulder the blame. These things happen, and thankfully, no harm came to either of us.”
Marjorie nodded, but her eyes still held concern.
