Chapter 2 #2
Poppy cleared her throat and fought back the tears that threatened to fall. “I apologize, Your Grace. I only knew that the girls came into the nuns’ care after a great tragedy, but I do not know the details—”
“Unfortunately, those are personal circumstances that I will not discuss with a stranger.” His coldness returned, and her compassion disappeared.
But Poppy understood his predicament and did not press him further.
“My sister and I were not in regular contact; that is all you need to know,” he said evenly. His eyes seemed to travel along the details of her face, and Poppy blushed from being studied. “When I heard of her death, my first concern was her children.”
Poppy folded her hands. “But why come here? Why seek me out personally?”
“To meet you. I wanted to understand your intentions.”
Her brows rose. “My intentions?”
“Yes.”
A humorless laugh escaped her. “How fortunate. A woman showing kindness to orphaned children requires an investigation.”
Her uncle looked ready to faint, and Aunt Violet was pale, but the duke remained silent. Poppy did not regret her words, and she did not appreciate being accused by a stranger who knew nothing about her and the relationship she shared with Aurora and Princess.
She opened her mouth to continue, but the duke suddenly got up. He tapped the cane on the ground once and walked toward her slowly. The duke’s expression remained unreadable.
“Enough.”
His quiet command silenced her.
“I have found what I came here to discover.”
Poppy watched him, her eyes widened as a ray of sunlight fell upon his face.
She studied him then and noticed that his pale, extraordinary eyes were open and responsive, yet empty. They held the afternoon light coldly and did not return its warmth. Her confusion thinned, leaving a cold but doubtful realization.
Poppy looked down at his cane and at the footman behind him.
“Are you…” she began quietly. “Blind?”
“Penelope!” the earl hissed her name in warning.
Ever since Miss Norish entered the drawing room, Hector found himself wanting her to continue speaking. It was an unusual reaction. Most people fell silent around him eventually, especially when they noticed something different about him. She did not.
He knew that she had discovered there was something wrong with his eyesight.
Hector could not see her features clearly in the weak light from the windows and the distance, but he had long known faces were often unreliable anyhow.
From her voice, he’d learned of a quiet strength and a defiance she struggled to keep silent.
And he was enjoying the slow reveal of her shape.
She was of medium height and slender. Her gown formed a subdued shape, shifting between blue and gray, and her voice was clear although it wavered slightly with fear.
“Your Grace, please ignore Penelope’s impudence.” The earl’s breath was short with alarm.
The earl spoke quickly, almost desperately, as if Miss Norish’s words embarrassed him more than they offended Hector. But Hector wanted her to continue her question, to see how brave she truly was.
Whenever someone realized his death stare was simply an eyesight issue, an awkward silence followed, filled with sympathy and pity. And he despised pity more than anything else.
He was not blind as others meant it. The world did not completely vanish after his accident. It had just… ceased to explain itself completely. He had learned how to cope with that.
He could see shapes, outlines, colors, and movement if not too fine. And the shape and colors of Miss Norish were quite pleasing to look at. Her words, on the other hand—
“I apologize, Your Grace, but I do not understand. If you came only to determine my intentions, then surely you have your answer. What is it that you require of me now?” Miss Norish spoke clearly.
Under the frustration, he was delightfully surprised. He was used to people softening in regard to his impaired vision and had expected correction for his benefit, but instead, she kept her ground, and he felt a sort of admiration for her.
Her uncle stepped in front of her, blocking her elegant colors and sweet shape from Hector’s view. He almost scowled, but controlled himself.
I cannot afford any distractions.
“Your Grace, my niece will assist you with whatever you need,” the earl said desperately.
“I expect that and nothing less,” Hector responded simply as he grew impatient.
He did not know much about Miss Norish, or Poppy, as everyone called her.
All he knew was that she was the daughter of Viscount Norish, that she was twenty-three years old, and that his nieces loved her so much that they refused to budge without her.
Or at least Aurora refused; whatever opinions Poppy held, they emerged as roars of protest when he attempted to pick her up.
He had planned every step of their return.
Miss Norish had not been part of that plan, and Hector disliked variables he could not control.
He turned more fully toward her then. Her figure sharpened under the new light when her uncle moved, and he could see her pale skin.
He made out a few dark blonde tendrils that lay loosely on her shoulders as if she had no time to pin them up.
His eyes slowly studied the shadow of her face, but he could not make out the color of her eyes.
“Miss Norish, I do not have time to keep arguing with you,” he said directly to her. “I simply came to London to collect my nieces. Since then, they have presented… complications.”
“Your Grace,” Miss Norish continued. “Since you are their uncle, of course you want them safe, but it will take time for them to adjust to you and their new…home.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and Hector leaned on his cane before stillness returned. “I presume that you would be willing to help with that.”
She frowned. Another tear let loose and fell gracefully across her face.
“Your Grace. I only visited the orphanage to help where I can. But if you require me to ease them into the adoption, then… I can assist.”
“I require something of that sort.” His words confused her.
Hector had carried the report of his niece’s whereabouts in his coat like an accusation.
Two girls, a four-year-old and an infant taken in at a London orphanage.
He had not known where his sister’s children were, nor that there were two.
And each hour of his ignorance was neglect on his side.
He felt as though he was failing miserably in his duty as a duke, as an uncle, and as a brother.
But his family did not cease to exist, and he refused to leave without them.
I will do anything to get them home. And that was why he was at Bendon House.
“Aurora needs time.” Miss Norish spoke about the child as if she were her own.
Hector raised a dark brow at her. “As I said, it must happen today.”
She froze.
He expected anger. Perhaps another argument.
Instead, her fingers tightened together, as though she was trying to remain composed for the sake of the children.
“I would like you to know, Miss Norish, that I have no intention of harming them.”
He watched as her tense shoulders dropped slightly with ease.
She let out a soft breath of air. “I believe you.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“But Aurora and Princess would—”
“Princess?” he frowned as he repeated the name.
Miss Norish sighed. “There was no name in the records. At first Aurora made it a game, but it was the only name that made her sister smile, so it stuck.”
“I would have to deal with that some other time then.”
The name irritated him as well as the fact that taking his nieces without Miss Norish would probably tear them apart. It was unwanted trouble on his side, but he could see that she had been constantly with them, and that she genuinely cared for them too.
Good, then my plan would probably work out.
“Miss Norish,” he said simply.
“Yes?” she replied, almost impatiently.
“Have your maid begin packing.”
The countess gasped, and the earl snapped his head toward him.
“I—I beg your pardon?” Miss Norish took a step backward, her voice quivering.
“Pack what you need for immediate travel, and the rest can follow over time,” he ordered, then turned toward his footman. “Jonathan will assist you.”
Her uncle found his voice first. “Your Grace?”
Hector did not look at him. “My nieces need continuity. You made that clear, did you not, Miss Norish?”
“I—yes, but—” Her composure faltered enough that he heard her step back. “I meant time. I cannot accompany them with… with you.”
“You can.”
“No, I cannot.” She turned her back on him, and he admired the contours of her body. “I am unmarried, and this arrangement would ruin me!”
Hector heard her frustration and imagined that tears were beginning to pool in her eyes. He cleared his throat, tightened his grip on the cane, and stalked toward the nearest window.
“You will be coming with me; that is why I am here, Miss Norish.”
The silence struck harder.
“This is scandalous,” her aunt whispered.
“With all due respect, Your Grace, but if this is a proposal, you ought to have approached me privately.” The earl felt the need to make himself important, but Hector had no time for him.
Miss Norish faced him, and he could see the shape of her eyes and the tears that gathered there. But the color remained a mystery. “I do not understand—”
He cut her off with a tap of his cane. “Perhaps I shall make this easier for you to understand?” He could see the frown lines on her pale skin, and part of him yearned to reach out and smooth them away.
The other part, the Duke, cared only for the safety of his family.
“Miss Norish, you will come with me as my duchess.”