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“None taken,” he jumped in cheerfully. “But in all honesty, I would bever have guessed that this garden was the work of someone who could not see the fruits of her own labor.”
“But Icansee the fruit of my labor,” she corrected him, strangely enjoying it. “I can feel the softness of the petals with the tips of my fingers. I can bury my nose into the sweet, most tender stigma which gives pollen. Tell me, when was the last time you felt how soft flower petals are?”
Joseph seemed to ponder for a few moments, only to admit that he had never done that in his life.
“It is such a shame that only when one loses a sense, one uses another to its full advantage,” she philosophized. “Perhaps we ought to go back and have our tea?”
She was enjoying the conversation too much, and that wasn’t good. The Duke was supposed to focus on Sarah while Bridget was only here as a chaperone to be quiet and assure propriety. Now it turned out, she was leading the conversation. She could not allow that to progress for a moment longer. It was not fair to Sarah.
Everything about this was so peculiar; she could not make heads or tails of it. It felt good to have the Duke focus on her, but it was wrong. She knew that much.
This time, she listened as he asked Sarah about her interest in books which she happily shared. Bridget listened, happy that the conversation got steered back in the right direction… but only for a moment.
“And you, Bridget?” He seemed to like pronouncing her name. “Do you read?”
Bridget frowned. It took him exactly three seconds to realize that the question wasn’t really well suited. She resisted the urge to chuckle.
“Oh, Bridget, I… I’m sorry… That was thoughtless…” He was once again the sweet blundering fool from the ball she remembered so fondly.
This time, she couldn’t hold in the laughter. It exploded all around them, drawing both the Duke and Sarah in as all three enjoyed a carefree moment. She was genuinely amused this time as she knew that he did not mean anything by it. He had merely never met anyone like her. She should be forgiving, but not too much, for that would lead down a dangerous path.
“I am such a fool,” he said, and for a moment, she suspected he could read her mind, for she thought the very same thing a moment ago. “Please do not take it the wrong way.”
“There is only one way to take it.” Bridget suddenly got gravely serious in an effort to tease him some more. “And that is that people tend to forget all about my blindness. They think I’m normal… like them, so I can’t hold it against them or you.”
“Being normal is overrated,” he suddenly said.
“But I do like to be read to,” she quickly answered his question, fearing what his final comment might lead to. The last thing she wished for were compliments from him. Those would only exacerbate the situation and the fire raging on inside of her. It was already hard enough to keep under control. “Sarah reads to me often, and when she’s gone, my lady’s maid, Henrietta, takes on the role.”
She could finally hear the voices of her parents and the Dowager Duchess.
“There you all are,” the Dowager announced. “Come, sit. The tea is getting too cold.”
She had reached safe ground.
Chapter 7
It was the day after the Duke and the Dowager Duchess paid them a visit when Bridget found herself in her chamber, seated in front of her vanity table. She had her eyes closed, enjoying the soft strokes of the brush that slid through her hair, guided by the gentle hand of her sister.
“I noticed that Gregory had brought in some new packages of seeds,” Sarah commented.
“Yes,” Bridget nodded. “I was hoping to plant a vegetable garden, so we can have fresh vegetables picked straight from the source.”
Although she could not see the sun, Bridget could certainly sense its warmth oozing through the open window to her right. She had pulled the heavy damask drapes to the side with heavily set routine guiding her hand each morning upon waking up. The sun reminded her of a simple but eternal life truth. While there might be darkness now, a new dawn would arrive soon. All she had to do was remain patient, for sometimes the darkness lasted a little longer.
“I think that would be splendid,” Sarah smiled behind her, finding a little knot in Bridget’s hair, and tenderly combing it out. “You take such good care of us, dear sister.”
“No,” Bridget corrected her, opening her eyes with the reminder that they were not daydreaming any longer. They were back to reality. “It is you who take such good care of me. You, Mama, Papa, and Oliver. I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.”
“As luck would have it, you will never have to find out.”
It was moments like this that made Bridget’s eyes tear up. The very knowledge that her family did not think her a burden but rather an equal member of their household meant more to her than she could ever express in mere words.
At that very moment, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” both girls called out at the same time which resulted in a bout of chuckles.
“What is so funny?” their mother wondered as she entered the room.
