Page 69 of A Mother for the Blind Duke’s Orphans

Poppy felt her own frustration rise with the conversation, but she forced herself to speak calmly and carefully.

“I am curious…what exactly is the wrong way?” she raised a brow at him.

His pale eyes returned to hers, and she wondered how clearly he saw her then. She could not help but feel that he seemed to perceive her more than anyone did when he gazed at her, and she did not think the irony was lost on that. His eyes truly studied her and took every part of her in. She was afraid to admit that their icy depths drew her to him.

“The wrong way,” he said gruffly, “is pretending that they are still in the orphanage. They are not orphans anymore; they must learn that here by following the rules.”

That took her aback.

“This is how children learn.”

“No, in a duke’s house they will learn their duties as young ladies,” he said sternly. “Starting now.”

Poppy’s stomach dropped as she remembered the changes she had been making in Aurora’s room already to help the child feel less overwhelmed. She knew then that the duke would not accept it.

“Your Grace, I know Aurora better,” she said quietly, and hated the necessity of it even as she said it. “I have known her longer than you, and I know what she and Princess require.”

His Grace grunted. “We will get that baby a proper name.”

Poppy felt her own frustration rising with each breath.

“You may still get to know them; there is still time,” she added.

His expression changed as he looked at her.

“And what of you?”

Poppy blinked. “What is the meaning of that?”

“Is there time to get to know you?” She gulped and felt her cheeks warm up under his intense stare. “I only meant that because you claim to know the girls more than I do, then perhaps I should get to know you and learn from that.”

His jaw clenched as if the confession took all of his strength, and the lines on his forehead had deepened. He looked, for one unguarded instant, like a man struck in a place already bruised. Poppy’s anger faltered. She had only meant to defend Aurora without wounding him. The problem was that the truth often did both.

“When would you like to begin?” she asked him softly.

“As soon as I return from my business trip.”

“Business trip?” This was the first time she had heard about it.

“Yes, I have some tenant disputes to solve.”

“Your Grace⁠—”

Poppy stopped short when the duke looked into her eyes and began to approach her. She stood still and did not know what to expect. He did not move quickly, but the room seemed to contract with each step. He was tall, strong, and dark against the lamplight; he came around the desk with his cane touching the floor at controlled intervals. She had seen him cross rooms before, and she knew the precision of it and the way he used sound and memory to move around. But her heart fluttered wildly when she realized he was walking directly toward her as if he were seeing her for the very first time.

“Have I said something wrong?” Her voice rose with each word.

For a moment she thought he was about to lash out at her with his icy words and remind her of her place. He seemed the type who would freeze the air until apology became the only sensible form of breathing.

Instead, he stopped very close.

Far too close.

And Poppy could see every detail of his light gray eyes now. His iris was a strange, wintry paleness. Up close, his limited sight did not make his gaze less powerful. If anything, it made it more intimate, because his attention did not skim over her features in the usual way. He seemed to study her in a way no one had before. He searched her features carefully as though he had to assemble her from nearness itself.

I should step back.

But she could not.