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“Oh,” Joseph stuttered. That was rather awkward. At least he did not refer to it as a coward’s sport.
But what did his mother expect when she dragged him here against his own will? She should not have expected him to actually take part in any of these ridiculous social customs and talks. He had already explained it to her numerous times. He was simply not the marrying kind. The sooner she accepted that, the better.
After this hunting fiasco, Joseph hoped that his mother would allow him a moment of peace until he got some more good cheer in liquid form.
“If you will excuse me, Ladies,” he said, lifting his index finger and pointing at the refreshments table right behind them. “I think I need a drink.”
He could see his mother’s lips part open, but he did not wait long enough to hear what words would flow out of them. He probably wouldn’t like hearing them anyway.
“I… I shall be right back,” he added for good measure, just to soothe a potentially guilty conscience.
He was already walking backwards as he parted with them, vowing that he would find the terrace and spend the rest of the night there. That might be the only place where he would not be disturbed by anyone, especially his mother. He knew that she meant well, but sometimes, that wellness was too overwhelming.
In his hurry to get away from them, he turned way too hastily and while still in motion. He was barely aware of his surroundings, his main purpose being to grab a drink and disappear from plain sight.
Someone right next to him shouted loudly, “Bridget, watch out!”
Seconds later, he bumped into a woman who seemed to be going straight at him as if she barely noticed him there. The moment their bodies touched, hers jerked away from him as suddenly as they stumbled onto each other. She blinked heavily, those blue eyes staring not at him but somewhere behind him, signaling that it was his fault this happened. Already annoyed, he frowned.
“Miss. Bridget, if you would kindly watch where you are going…”
Bridget’s expression was the one of a flustered and irritated governess who was about to scold a child that had done something wrong. The stern lines on her face tightened, but that did not retract from her ethereal beauty. In fact, it only made it more striking.
But her cold, determined response took him off guard, leaving him stunned.
“It is Lady Bridget, if you do not mind,” she corrected him, once again in the manner of a governess, “and I am afraid that I cannot watch where I am going. You see, I am blind.”
Chapter 3
“Blind?”
The man’s repeated word echoed, a painful reminder of the difference between her and every other person at this ball.
“I apologize, Miss… I mean, Lady Bridget,” he tried to excuse himself while Bridget faced him, her ears focusing on the distinctive notes in his voice which revealed that he was perplexed, surprised, and struggling to find the right words. Bridget had to admit that she had fun listening to him squirm like a mouse under the paw of a hungry cat. “I should have known that–”
“Should have known what?” she wondered, even more amused at this point. “That you shall bump into a blind lady at the ball? That, Sir, would make you psychic. Are you?”
“Psychic?” he repeated again, utterly dazed by her questioning. “Uhm, no. No, I’m not.”
“What a pity,” she told him, “because I am— psychic, you see. I knew this night would be a complete disaster, and I still came.”
“That is actually how I feel as well,” she heard him say, finally using words that flowed from his lips confidently. He had regained his senses. Too bad. She liked hearing him all flustered and awkward. For once, she was not the one under the strain of those emotions, but actually someone else was.
“Bridget!” She heard Sarah’s hurried voice, and her sister’s breathing slightly intensified. She must have been running to her. “Is everything all right?”
Bridget wondered if Sarah had noticed the man with a voice that made her think of a tall, dark and handsome stranger, the type she remembered from ages ago. Now, she could only judge looks by the color of a person’s voice which in this man’s case was the color of the forest at midnight, bathed in moonlight with the distant sound of owls hooting somewhere in the distance. There was something about him that made her want to speak to him more if for nothing else than to keep herself amused, but Sarah was here now, and the situation had changed.
“Yes, everything is quite all right, dear Sarah,” Bridget smiled. “It would appear that absent-mindedness is an equal handicap as blindness, is it not, Mister…?” But she was not able to finish her question, and she hoped the mysterious man still standing opposite her would finish it for her. His name came from a most surprising source, instead.
“Joseph!” Oliver shouted the man’s name with such familiarity that it immediately made Bridget feel a little bad for poking him verbally so much.
“Oliver,” Joseph replied equally cordially.
Bridget tried to listen to the sounds around her, but that was impossible inside a grand ballroom where all she could hear was the orchestra music unless someone was speaking very close to her. As for the smells, they were overpowering, all heavy perfumes and spiced food. All these sensations were unknown and difficult to process, especially when she suddenly turned and couldn’t feel Sarah’s hand on her elbow. She panicked. She headed straight and ended up stumbling onto the man she now knew as Joseph.
“I see you’ve met my sisters already,” Oliver continued proudly.
“Yes,” Joseph’s voice sounded as if he were smiling, “I have had the pleasure of meeting Lady Bridget,” he noted, “but not your other sister.”
