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But then, he saw the image of her brother in his mind. He remembered the promise he had made, and he had just spat on it.
“I shall guide you back on your path,” he said, suddenly sounding distant, perhaps even overly so. “You go ahead first, and I shall follow shortly. We should not be seen arriving together.”
“A wise course of action,” she said, still blushing. God, she was breath-taking. He wondered if she even knew how much.
He took her by the hand, a small touch, but he felt as if she caressed his very heart by it. That was an even more dangerous path than the one they had just shared today. He had to remain true to his promise. This would be the last time he would join the sisters for an outing. From now on, he needed to keep away from Bridget Beaumont because when he was in her presence, he was not able to control himself.
He led her to the path then pointed her in the right direction. He watched her until the maze hid her silhouette from him, until she disappeared completely from sight.
Chapter 18
Several days had passed since the visit to the maze, and the memory still made Bridget blush. She had chosen not to share the events with Sarah although every time the two sisters were given some privacy, the words lingered on her lips, like thieves in the night, ready to spill their bags of stolen loot. For that was what those kisses truly were: stolen kisses, kisses that would never be forgotten because they awoke what she was afraid to admit to herself up until that moment.
It was a lovely afternoon when the two sisters decided to take a stroll through Oxford Street. Sarah wished to purchase a new hat, but Bridget was in no mood for shopping although she gladly accompanied her sister. She was in desperate need of a distraction, and what better interference than the sound of life outside the confines of her own mind.
Bridget listened to the bustle of London streets around her, grasping at Sarah’s hand firmly. She knew well what it would mean if she got lost. This way, with her large dark blue hat tilted slightly downward towards her face, she was just like any other passerby, chatting cheerfully.
“I was hoping to find a blushing pink hat,” Sarah chorused amusedly as the two sisters walked slowly, one foot in front of the other.
Bridget always preferred to walk slowly, but it had nothing to do with her inability to see. She liked to become a part of the life around her whether she was in her own garden enjoying the sound of the bees and the birds chirping or out in the streets where she could not tell exactly where she was. With Sarah around, there was no room for fear.
“You know, to suit my new dress, the one with the coral-colored miniature roses?” Sarah explained, and Bridget nodded. She did remember the dress her sister was describing so excitedly. But she could not really focus on the conversation because her mind was elsewhere which was completely unlike her. “You are not listening, are you?” Sarah wondered more to herself than to her sister.
“I am,” Bridget assured her, her mind divided between the now and the past. Truth be told, she preferred the past moment because she could still convince herself that Joseph felt the same way about her as she did about him. But the last several days only served as a reminder that she had allowed her fancies to get out of hand. “I am merely endeavoring to focus on what is happening around us.” That was the easiest explanation she could come up with. That was also the most plausible one.
“Are you certain that is all there is?” Sarah’s tone grew concerned, and Bridget hated the fact that she was the cause for it. “Because I could swear that you seem preoccupied by something, something serious. The Duke, perhaps, and his lack of presence for the past several days?”
Bridget sighed to herself, unwilling to have this conversation in public. Her inability to see also meant that she could never know who was just in earshot, able to hear everything she was saying as all the words flowed out of the very depths of her heart. For such conversation, she much more preferred the privacy of their own home.
“While it is true that he has failed to write or inquire about us, I hardly think that is any cause for alarm,” Bridget spoke as composedly as she could, hoping that she achieved her goal of sounding completely unaffected by his sudden disappearance. Fortunately, she had not shared their secret trysts with Sarah, so there was no need to explain his actions to Sarah or to herself.
Those kisses were a mistake. She should have left him both times, but she could do no such thing. It was as if some invisible force kept her close to him, not allowing her to leave. Her feet were not her own to walk away. Her lips were not her own to refuse him. Her heart was not her own. She belonged to him. All of her.
That still did not mean that she was unaware of the fact that meeting him both times was a mistake. She knew that now. It was a lapse in judgment, one that could have led to much graver consequences than just a broken heart had they both been more reckless. Mercifully, as it was, they could both just forget about what happened and move on with their lives.
Only, that was easier said than done. Bridget had passed these days thinking of all that happened between them. The dance, all the time they spent together, the stolen kisses. She was ashamed to admit that there was no room for anything else in her mind. She could not focus on a book being read to her. She could barely focus on a conversation, offering very little to say in return. She felt as if her words failed her, and her mind could only think of him. That was completely unlike her which could only mean one thing…
She had never experienced these sensations personally, but she had read enough about them to recognize all the symptoms. His presence made her blush. The very thought of him awakened a storm of emotion inside her belly and a knot somewhere lower. The way he held her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers only fortified that conviction. Bridget was in love. Hopelessly, desperately in love with a man who would never be hers.
“Yes, that is true, but I somehow believed that he would be visiting us more and more and not less,” Sarah noted when suddenly, she stopped, pulling Bridget to halt as well.
“Sarah?” Bridget’s fingers trembled apprehensively as she gripped harder at her sister’s upper arm. “Is everything all right?”
“I think…” Sarah spoke quietly, almost quiet enough for Bridget not to hear her. “I think I see him across the street.”
“See who?” Bridget asked, praying that Sarah was not referring to Joseph. She was not ready to see him. She was not ready to speak with him.
“It’s the Duke,” Sarah leaned closer to her sister to say, her voice a whisper under her breath.
“Can we avoid greeting him?” Bridget asked, breathlessly, wanting to stop in her tracks, but Sarah kept walking in the direction Bridget wished to avoid.
“Why?” Sarah wondered, surprised.
Years of being blind had made her orientation skills acutely accurate. She could tell where someone was, and from the sound of their voice, she could also pinpoint exactly in which direction their face was turned while they were speaking. Sarah was talking, her face turned to Bridget’s. She was sure that her sister was staring her down for the moment oblivious to the fact that Bridget could not stare back at her.
“Well, we are in a rush, are we not? I would hate for us to arrive in front of the store and find it closed,” Bridget endeavored to explain her sudden and unexpected reaction to meeting him so unpredictably here.
“The hat store is open all day, Bridget. Do not be silly.” Sarah smiled as she spoke. “We shall cross the street and say hello.”
