The Blind Duke
The Blind Duke
By Emma Brady
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE BLIND DUKE
First edition. January 28, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 Emma Brady.
ISBN: 978-1386326090
Written by Emma Brady.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Coming August 2018
Booklovers Creed
To Ruth, my Beta Bestie. I would be lost in a world of plot holes without you.
To my fans, who I hope enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love getting feedback, good or bad, so please feel free to drop a review. Also, follow me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/hotbooklover2 for sales, updates and new releases. Plus hot dudes.
Chapter 1
ALTHOUGH IT WAS ALREADY spring, the air still held a crisp chill at night. Compared to the blinding light inside, the balcony was unbelievably dark. Eloisa Noble's eyes had to adjust so that the shadows took on recognizable forms. Looking around, she realized that no one else had decided to venture outside the ballroom and she was alone. A sigh of contentment slipped past her lips.
"Don't sound so relieved." A masculine voice came from the other side of a marble pillar. "The hostess might be offended to know you prefer this solitude to her party."
"Considering how crowded and uncomfortable it is in there, it can be forgiven." Eloisa tried to hide her startled expression, thankful it was so dark.
"Forgiveness is hard to find in most people."
Like a cat, Thomas Powell, the Duke of Ashford stepped from the shadows of the pillar into the dim light coming through the balcony doors. Eloisa's breathe clutched in her throat, giving off a little squeak. He was so much bigger than she remembered, but still as handsome. Years away hadn't dimmed her girlish reaction.
This was a man who had been born beautiful. He knew how to smile so that the dimples in his cheeks peeked out like a schoolboy, but the tall, athletic form of his body proved him a man. It was said he learned early in his youth how to use his good looks to charm his way under the skirts of many women, from upstairs maids to married aristocrats. The only saving grace was that he never took advantage of virgins. He preferred a more experienced woman and he grew easily bored.
She remembered hearing that the poor man lost his sight a few years ago in some kind of riding accident. Of course he was being chased by someone's angry husband when it happened. Instead of finding his actions despicable like many had, she pitied him for his bad decisions. Losing one's sight was a steep penance for such indiscretion. They had only been introduced once during her season, but she remembered the bright blue of his eyes clearly; such a shame that they no longer saw the world around them.
"You sound frightened. Did I scare you?" His face was tilted in her direction, but his eyes weren't focused on her.
"Yes, I suppose you did. I believed I was alone out here."
"You would prefer I left?"
Her first instinct was to tell him yes, because his presence made her uncomfortable. But, there was something so vulnerable about him standing alone in the dark that changed her mind. She was familiar with the sting of rejection and didn't want him to feel that now. Even those who society loved could feel unwanted.
"I think I might be able to stand your company for a little while." She looked nervously in the direction of the doors. Regardless of her station as a chaperone, being caught alone with a man was a risk to her reputation; especially a man like Powell. "Do you think we might be able to move closer to the railing? I feel the need for fresh air."
"I don't think I have a choice. I don't like to disappoint a lady.” He wrapped her hand around his arm and she noticed the strong muscle beneath the expensive fabric of his evening coat. "Knowing your name might be nice."
"The rumors say you prefer anonymity in your affairs with women."
He laughed and his muscles rippled beneath her fingers, stretching the fabric of his black dress coat. She had never been alone with a man before, besides her father. This was a rebellious act and she was excited by their banter. Flirting was a lot more fun than she had imagined.
"Your voice sounds familiar." They came to stop along the balcony's railing overlooking the garden. He released her but stayed close and leaned in as if they were intimate friends. She pulled at her long satin gloves, and tried to relax. "We've met before haven't we?"
"I'm surprised you remembered, since it was a long time ago and I was hardly memorable."
"I never forget a woman."
"You must have an incredible memory then."
She wasn't sure what made her say such things to him. Last time they met she had barely managed to put together a few words of polite greeting. Now she spoke as if they were the oldest of friends. If his smile was any indication, he enjoyed the exchange as much. Eloisa felt butterflies in her stomach as she watched those soft lips moving.
"I think you have insulted me." His grin widened. "But I'm not sure how I would prove it."
"I meant no insult, I was only being honest. You must know the kind of reputation you have."
"Not precisely. Few people want to talk to me about my own reputation."
"They are too frightened."
"But you're not scared, are you?" His voice had changed, deepened. Eloisa found she was leaning in to hear him, bringing her body closer to his than propriety allowed. Any closer and she would be rubbing her cheek against the white of his dress shirt.
"I was once, but not anymore," she matched her whispered tone to his.
He pulled back then, those brilliant blue eyes reflecting the moonlight mixed with something else. She knew he was unable to see her but it still made her tremble. The predator that he once was still lingered in the shadows of those eyes. An injured animal could still be as dangerous, if not more so.
"We have met." He tapped his chin with one of his long fingers. "I wonder why I can't picture your face. It must be lovely."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why must I be lovely?"
"Because your voice is too sweet to belong to someone ugly."
Eloisa was not the type of woman to hold beauty in the highest esteem. That might be because she had always been described as plain. During her early girlhood years she had struggled to make her appearance more pleasing, but there was no fighting against Mother Nature. She grew tall quickly with long limbs and almost no curves. Even her breasts were small, hardly worth garnering a man's attention. Although her complexion was nice, her face was considered ordinary. The soft brown of her eyes matched her hair, which couldn't be described as either curly or straight. When released from its bun, her hair fell in thick waves down her back.
"What if I'm simply ordinary?" She pressed him.
It would have been easier to accept the compliment, but that would have been dishonest. Eloisa was a woman who was not considered pretty but not considered ugly. Truthfully, she was seldom considered at all. Life had only allowed her to have one season in London, but that had been enough to teach her that those who were ordinary didn't
belong. Only the love for her cousin could have brought her back to a place where she was ignored.
"I wouldn't believe it. You're too full of spirit." He reached out to trace the line of her jaw and she shivered at his touch. "I only wish I remembered you."
"I'm glad you don't because I would hate to see you disappointed. You were not as impressed with me as I was with you."
"I impressed you?" Such a smug smile lit up his face that even in the shadows she saw the glint of his teeth.
"You impressed everyone back then."
"It must have been a long time ago."
"Almost five years."
The way his face changed, growing more serious, she worried she might have said too much. That clue might have been the one that sparked his memory or it might have simply given away her age. Either way he no longer looked as carefree as he had been moments before.
"That was before the accident."
There was no inflection in his voice, just a flat statement. She didn't know if she was supposed to respond to it or not, since her mind went blank. Nothing had ever rendered her speechless before. He saved her from it by continuing on, but in a lighter tone.
"Why haven't I seen you since then?" he asked, pulling his hand back.
"I went abroad, to the continent." She was at ease talking to him. "My father and I traveled slowly, enjoying as much of the local offerings as possible."
"What made you return?"
"Family obligations."
"Those I am familiar with." He leaned against the railing of the balcony. Eloisa watched the lock of blond hair that fell across his forehead and wanted to brush it aside. Such thoughts were ridiculous considering they hardly knew each other.
She was glad to see a shift in the conversation back to him. "Is it true that you're looking for a wife this season?"
"Perhaps. Would you be interested in the position?" He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed at his silly antics.
"Hardly. I'm just curious."
"Then yes, I'm looking for a wife but not for the ordinary reasons." His head away from her, to face the tiny garden on the other side of the balcony. "I'm looking for a specific woman to be my wife. One who would do more for me than just give me a family. I want someone to change my luck."
"Oh?" Eloisa laughed because it was too funny to resist. His face had been so serious when he said that, then his blond eyebrows together at her reaction.
"You find that amusing?"
"The papers said you fell from a horse escaping an angry husband, which could happen to anyone. That’s not a mark that you are unlucky." Eloisa didn't want to bring up bad memories, so she spoke the words slowly.
"Not when I'm one of the best riders in London. I've never fallen from a horse before that incident or after." Something in his expression told her how deeply upsetting it was to talk about. She was no longer laughing.
"Do you think with the right wife you will be able to see again?" she asked.
A wry smile appeared. "No, I'm not foolish enough to think a woman will produce a miracle. My sight wasn't the only thing I lost when I fell from that horse."
Her eyes roamed over his body to look for any other signs of injury. She let her eyes linger in a few places. "You look to be fine to me."
"It's not about what you can see; it's about how society now looks at me. I'm not exactly the golden boy I was before."
Eloisa had such little experience with recognition that she was unable to understand the loss of it. The sadness reflected in his eyes made her want to comfort him in some way.
"I'm still looking at you the same." She told him.
Her breathing stuttered when he reached up with one hand to brush his thumb across her cheek. "I wish I was able to see that look."
"Me too."
The sound of her own voice coming out as a sultry whisper surprised her enough that she was able to step away from his touch. With a sigh, his arm dropped and he continued to speak.
"In order to return to society’s good graces I need to marry someone they will love. If she can love me, they will love me too." He sounded confident in his plan.
"I imagine any number of women are in love with you." Eloisa was certain she was not among them. "It won't be too difficult to find one who is willing to overlook your previous behavior."
"If only it were that easy."
"There's more?"
"I fear my lack of sight makes it difficult to determine who the right woman is. I must find this seasons diamond of the first water without being able to look at her." Powell had a faint smile on his face. He found humor in his plight.
"That might be a benefit, since beauty doesn't always prove to be the best quality." Eloisa spoke from experience.
He laughed outright at the comment, which made her glare up at him. "Society wouldn't approve of me marrying a hag."
"You have changed less than I expected. Five years ago you were just as proud and vain."
"Pride is someone else's sin."
"Then vanity fits you." She smiled at him, and then remembered it was a wasted gesture. "What kind of woman cures that?"
"I believe it is a woman who is equally beautiful as me, although that might not be possible." He had the nerve to wink at her.
"I think the moonlight might be playing tricks, because you aren't as handsome as you were five minutes ago."
The insult was supposed to knock him down a bit, but instead he only smiled more. "You are a judge with high standards. Could you tell me who might be the woman I'm looking for?"
Her teeth nibbled at the edge of her lip. Of course she knew, it was her own cousin. There was no way for her to stop him from pursuing Sarah, but she didn't want to make it easy for him either.
"I'm afraid I can't help you, Your Grace." She moved away from him toward the ballroom doors.
"Can't or won't?"
It was such a bold question, she knew he expected her to lie.
"I am simply choosing not to assist you. I'm afraid you're on your own in your hunt."
The shocked look on his face made her smile as she swept away from him and back into the ballroom. It was the first time Eloisa had ever left a man speechless.
Her smile lingered when she found her cousin, still holding court over a swarm of men. Sarah Langston, the daughter of a marquis, was the season's diamond of the first water. The blues of her gown complemented her classic English coloring, while her bodice was cut low enough to draw every male’s attention in the room.
Once you spent time with Sarah, you could see that she had more than just her good looks. She had a sharp wit and independent ideas and came close to being a bluestocking. She loved to read and enjoyed a good debate over a wide variety of topics. The only thing she didn't like to talk about was her own good looks. Compliments irritated her because they were focused on all the wrong things. She looked bothered by the attention surrounding her now.
"You look refreshed," Sarah whispered to Eloisa when she stood beside her. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
"No."
Sarah gave her cousin a look that showed she knew that was a lie, but let it go. There were so many people listening. Once they got home there would be endless questions to answer.
Sarah crooked a finger in the direction of the young men. In an instant three of them had broken away and were scrambling to where the ladies stood. They were like puppies pushing each other aside to be in front. Sarah smiled sweetly, but it was the fake smile she used when she wanted something from the opposite sex.
"I'm afraid my cousin and I have become quite thirsty. Would any of you be brave enough to venture out for drinks?" Sarah gave each of them a lingering look as encouragement.
She mocked them, as she often did, but they never noticed. They were too busy tripping over each other in a rush to meet the challenge. The remaining young men looked envious that the other three had been chosen, even if it was for a foolish errand.
"At least when they return we won't have to worry ab
out being thirsty again." Sarah gave a little half smile. "They will bring back enough to last us the rest of the evening."
"That's if they make it back in one piece, which might be hoping for too much." Eloisa no longer saw any of them in the crowd of people.
Sarah gave her a shrug. "If not we can simply send a few more of them on a search party. That might give us some much-needed rest."
"Don't you feel bad about collecting so many suitors at once? Sharing with some of the other ladies might be to your benefit."
"I can't help it if they prefer me. The other ladies need to work harder to get their attention."
"They would have to perform some kind of animal act to even compete."
Sarah laughed like she always did at her cousin's jokes and it caught the attention of everyone around them. Men stared with lust and women with envy, but she always ignored them all. On the outside, Sarah was the picture of English elegance, with soft blonde hair and big blue eyes. Like a little doll, she had delicate features and a petite figure. It was easy to see why she was considered the success of the season.
"You should be happy your dance card is full at every event," said Eloisa.
"I know I should be, but I find it more irritating than enjoyable." Sarah's face puckered for a few seconds. "I haven't found a single man I would consider and yet I must pretend I have an interest."
"It's better to be a success than a failure your first season."
A failure was what Eloisa's first and only season had been. It was almost a lifetime ago in her mind, but it had only been five years since she was in her cousin's place. Their experiences with society were vastly different. It was a perfect example of how beauty determined a person's place. She was relieved to know her cousin wasn't going to suffer the same embarrassments she had.
Nothing scandalous had happened. She would have preferred that to the silent treatment she received. The walls of the ballroom had been her home when no one asked her to dance. Each time she was passed over for someone else she felt herself shrinking back even further until she no longer even tried. The memories of it were enough to bring heat to her cheeks. Eloisa’s mother had been optimistic that a second season was going to be a success, but her sudden death meant it never happened.