Page 19 of A Mother for the Blind Duke’s Orphans

“I do. She is unmarried,” Hector continued. “A daughter of a viscount and young enough to be foolish, though she does not seem foolish. She is not trained for the responsibilities of a dukedom, but it is nothing she cannot learn, as I am certain she expected to marry a lord someday.”

“Indeed, Your Grace.”

“And my nieces trust her.”

The words settled between them with more force than the entire list that had preceded them.

Hector turned his face toward the blurred wash of the window. Shapes passed beyond it. He felt the motion of the carriage, and for years motion had been enough proof that the world continued whether he saw it clearly.

“Jonathan, I could make out the color of her hair,” he spoke softly as he pictured Miss Norish. “She had dark blonde tendrils, I think. And the color of her dress was blue. And her features were strikingly beautiful in the sunlight. But, for some reason or the other, I could not see the color of her eyes.”

Even with the limits of his sight, he had perceived the stillness that had come over her when the proposal became unavoidable. She had understood the bargain at once, and her own life narrowed so that the children’s might widen. He respected her for not pretending otherwise.

Any other debutante might have hidden calculation beneath her blushes and lowered lashes, but Miss Norish had done something far less practiced, and that should have been enough.

Hector heard the silence and resented it. “You have nothing to say?”

“I was uncertain whether Your Grace wished for an answer?”

Hector’s mouth tightened; he did not know why he needed to know the color of her eyes, but perhaps he should see it for himself instead of receiving an explanation.

“You are right, Jonathan. Her eyes should not matter to me, anyway.”

Chapter Five

By the time the carriage stopped at the orphanage, Hector had arranged his muddled thoughts into certainty.

I am not nervous.

The very notion was absurd. He had addressed Parliament with men waiting for weakness in every pause. He had managed tenants, solicitors, physicians, relatives, and creditors who had belonged to other people until death delivered them into his ledger. He had learned to cross rooms he could not see clearly while pretending not to notice the chairs that had been moved. A child of four could certainly not unman him by simply existing in a room.

What if Miss Norish is present too?

He felt his pulse react to the thought of her. Hector remained seated for half a breath after Jonathan opened the carriage door.

His nieces did not know him. That was a fact. Just as he had not known of his half-sister until recently. Hector would have loved to have her around, as much as he wished his mother was around too. The late Duke took out all of his anger on him as a child, and all he wanted to do was run to someone who offered nothing but softness and kindness. Then again, he would not have wanted his sister to endure what he had endured. Ignorance on his side had arranged the cruelty of abandonment for his nieces before he arrived to correct it.

But the correction would be made.

Jonathan cleared his throat to get Hector’s attention. He came to and stepped down with his cane in hand. The orphanage stood before him as a large, indistinct mass, its edges softened by his sight. He did not need to admire or condemn the building. It had housed the girls, but it had not been a home to them.

Jonathan came up beside him.

“I know where the entrance is,” Hector said stubbornly.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Jonathan replied just as stubbornly.

“And I know you will walk near me, regardless.”

“Yes, Your Grace. You know me well.”

Hector scoffed. “Very well, then.”

They entered the orphanage, and Hector continuously reminded himself that he was doing the right thing. He would take care of his nieces; he would provide for them and Miss Norish, whom they already trusted. They would not even have to interact with him more than necessary, and his own routine would remain unchanged.

“To your left, Your Grace,” Jonathan whispered to him.

Hector felt more determined as he turned the corner and heard small sounds of running footsteps, a distant murmur, and the brief high note of a child who ran through the building and disappeared. Hector followed Jonathan’s directions down a hallway.