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“You… planted these flowers?” The woman could still not bring herself back from the shock of finding out that this visual beauty was the result of a blind woman’s hand.
“Yes,” Bridget resisted the urge to chuckle. Shocking someone who seemed to be close-minded about blind people was something Bridget liked to do a little too much. “Of course, I need Gregory’s help to get the right seeds and the right kind of soil. He helps with the measurements and many other things. But yes, I do believe that it is generally my vision which he follows.”
For a moment, there was silence. Stunned silence. Bridget wondered if she was perhaps a bit too boastful, for that was not the impression she had been trying to make. She merely wished to show the Duchess that blind people were capable of creating beauty as well. She wondered what Joseph would have to say to this, but he was stubbornly quiet. She could not even figure out where he was seated. It would be better if he were as far away from her as possible. She could not afford to get lost in his words again. He was too much of a distraction. This visit would probably cut it all at the root, and she would be free of this silly little infatuation and the fire inside her belly which flamed up at the mere mention of his name.
“Ah, the tea,” the Dowager Duchess quickly changed the topic, preferring not to comment about the garden any longer.
Bridget did not take offence. She had spoken about this with Sarah and her father many times before. People were afraid of what they did not know. When people were afraid, that made them tactless, inconsiderate, or downright rude. Bridget had witnessed every single instance. This time, she merely considered it inconsiderate to change topics so swiftly and unexpectedly, but far be it from her to mention it or push for more garden talk. She was happy just feeling the breeze on her cheek and inhaling the soft fragrance of the blossoming dahlias.
“Joseph, darling,” the Dowager Duchess spoke again, obviously dominating the conversation, “why don’t you take the ladies for a walk through the garden? Perhaps Lady Sarah and Lady Bridget could show you around while the tea cools off.”
“Yes, Mother,” Bridget heard him reply, but she didn’t get up. She did not wish to go for a walk with him because that would mean that she would be forced to speak to him. This way, among more people, she could remain quiet and distant.
“Bridget, go ahead now,” her father urged her gently. She felt a touch of a hand she recognized as Sarah’s.
“I’m quite all right, Sarah,” she said.
Usually, when they strolled through the garden, the two girls held hands, not because Bridget needed any help maneuvering through the garden path, but because they wanted to be as close to each other as possible. This time, however, Bridget knew that the Duke and the Dowager Duchess would make the wrong assumption about it. They would think her incapable of walking on her own through her own garden. The thought made her surprisingly upset, so much so that she pulled away her hand from Sarah as if the touch had scorched her.
Bridget started walking by Sarah’s side. Another set of footsteps belonged to Joseph who walked on Sarah’s other side, making her sister the one in the middle. Without saying it out loud, Bridget sensed that Sarah was following her direction, and Joseph in turn, followed theirs.
“Your Grace,” Sarah broke off the uncomfortable silence, “what do busy yourself with in your free time?”
Bridget silently applauded her for her boldness. Sarah did not wait for him to start the conversation but instead started it herself. Then again, her sister had always been curious and forward-thinking, something which made her both desirable and frightening to men at the same time. Still, her soft features and chocolate curls softened the frightful traits of her character immensely.
“I have been dabbling in investments lately,” Joseph explained. “That has been taking up a significant amount of my time.”
“Have they been successful?” Sarah wondered.
“Yes, quite,” Joseph confirmed. Bridget wondered why there was no zeal in his voice. It was almost as if he were a different person now while at the ball his words had energy and flair. This was the conversation of a businessman who did not even prefer to discuss business that much, perhaps fearing he might reveal a secret that would come back to haunt him.
“Father has also made several very successful investments,” Sarah added although it was obvious to everyone that this conversation was going nowhere, despite all of the words exchanged.
“Good,” Joseph offered yet another short, disinterested response. “I have been thinking… if several of those investments pay off well, I am planning on remodeling the entire west wing as well as the garden.”
Up until this point, Bridget felt like the conversation had nothing to do with her. But now, the mention of the garden was a finger that pointed straight for her. Troubled by her own heart, she decided to ignore it.
“Well, I’m certain that Bridget could help you,” Sarah suddenly chirped, and the entire tone of the conversation changed significantly. “I mean, just look at the splendor around you.”
“I am…” Joseph acknowledged, and something in the way he said it made Bridget blush. She immediately turned away to the other side, refusing to allow him to see the effect his words had on her. It was bad enough that she could not stay immune to him, but allowing him to see this for himself would be crossing the line of propriety.
She heard him speak to her more closely this time. “How did you manage to do this, Bridget?”
The familiar sound of her name on his lips sounded too wicked to be heard in public like this. She should be Lady Bridget to him, and he should be Your Grace. Nothing closer than that. Yet, she could not force herself to correct him.
“I’ve always liked gardening and flowers, ever since I was a little girl,” she explained softly as another gush of wind brought the sweet fragrance of peonies to her. They were blushing pink and deep red. Those were the colors she instructed Gregory to purchase, for those smelled the sweetest.
“We couldn’t get her out of the dirt,” Sarah chimed in, and suddenly, all three were chuckling, imaging Bridget knee deep in mud and dirt. It was one of the images Bridget remembered most fondly.
“It’s good that I spent so much time in the dirt back then when I could see,” Bridget smiled, “because now I know exactly what to do without even looking. I remember the size of the garden and the way the stone wall curves in the distance. I know where the trees are growing and where the rose bushes bloom. My mind then adjusts the colors accordingly, picking out the combinations as well as fragrances that would fit well together, like those dahlias there.” Bridget stopped to point at the exact spot where the dahlias were. They were unmistakably sweet and fragrant. She could smell them all the way from the house.
“How did you do that?” Joseph seemed flabbergasted.
“Do what?” Bridget wondered, confused.
“Know exactly where they are planted?”
She smiled. “It’s a magical power. Because I can’t see, my sense of smell is much better than yours… no offence.”
