Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 17

Anne squirmed in her seat as Horatia returned to the dining room.

"Is everything well with him?" Ashton asked. All eyes fixed on her. Anne did not envy Cedric's sister having the attention of the room.

"He is a little embarrassed. He needs time to compose himself." Horatia took her seat next to Lucien before turning to Emily. "Would it be possible to send him a plate of food and someone for company? I think he isn't ready to face everyone, but I believe he does not wish to be alone either."

"Oh, certainly. I'd be happy to..." Emily started to rise, but Charles stopped her with an intense look. She plopped back down into her seat, her sweet face a picture of confusion.

"Why doesn't Miss Chessley go? I mean, it seems with the upcoming wedding that perhaps the affianced couple would enjoy some private time together. Unless, of course, the lady does not wish to be burdened with the company of an ill-tempered blind man."

It was a flat-out challenge. Anne frowned at those suddenly serious gray eyes. Now she saw the rogue in him, the seductive and dangerous man she'd had the fortune of avoiding since her coming out five years ago. It would take a strong woman to survive being the prey of that particular predator.

"I would be happy to share a private meal with Lord Sheridan." Anne rose from the table, causing all the men to jump to their feet. She followed a stunned Emily out of the dining room, who instructed a waiting footman to bring two plates to the library before she turned to Anne, hands on her hips and violet eyes filled with concern.

"You don't have to dine with him, really, Anne. Charles is being an imbecile."

"It's perfectly fine. I believe Lord Lonsdale is testing me. Despite the manner in which he delivered his opinion, I am honored to be the subject of his challenge because he demonstrated such loyalty to Lord Sheridan. I would not wish to marry a man who did not have good taste in friends."

She meant every word. As much as it irked her to have to prove herself, she was glad to think Cedric had so many people watching over him. The two fell in step, walking leisurely to the library in order to give the staff time to prepare and catch up.

"But still, Charles was far too rude, and I will not allow such impertinent behavior inside my house." Emily raised her chin angrily.

How far she has come, Anne thought with pride. To be such a young debutante and then a duchess half a year later, she played the part well and would only get better at it.

"Please don't trouble yourself on my account. I would much rather prove Lord Lonsdale wrong by showing my dedication to my fiancé."

"I still cannot believe you are marrying Cedric. I had my hopes, of course..." Emily trailed off when Anne stopped short beside her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for as long as I have known Cedric, he's asked me about you. Heavens, he never stopped until..." There was no need to finish the sentence. Until the accident.

"He...talked about me?" Anne whispered, her throat tight.

"He was so frustrated over your constant refusals to see him, to even speak to him, that he was going mad. You were always on his mind, and still are, it would seem." Emily's soft voice was full of mystery, even knowledge about things Anne, even older than Emily, had yet to grasp.

Anne had the sudden urge to tell Emily everything, to spill out the secret she'd been keeping inside her guarded heart for so long, but she couldn't trust herself not to falter. Emily had so much to handle as a duchess that Anne did not want to burden her friend with her own emotional nonsense. She must find her own way to persevere.

Cedric was leaning back against a scarlet velvet settee with a dismal look on his face. Anne motioned for Jim to leave once he finished setting up the table.

"Is that you, Anne?" Cedric cocked his head to the side. Anne had the strangest feeling that he'd recognized her by her scent.

"Yes, my lord. I've had dinner brought for us." He seemed to hear her approach and held up a hand to stay her.

"I'm blind, not an invalid," he snapped as he got to his feet. He was lucky he could not see the hurt those words had caused her. Cedric reached the nearest chair and pulled it out for her. He couldn't see his error. Her plate was a good few feet away from that seat, but she reached over the table and slid her plate toward the seat he offered.

"Please sit," he said a little more cordially.

"Thank you." Anne slid into the seat offered. He pushed her in a few inches before he pulled his own chair back with caution and seated himself next to her. Anne watched as he slid his hands along the table's surface until his fingertips bumped into the edge of his own plate.

"Ahh, there we are," he said to himself and drew the plate toward himself before hunting for the silverware.

It struck Anne then that Cedric's loss of sight affected more than his vision. Every move he made was slow, measured, calculated to prevent injury to himself or damage to things around him. His muscles tensed and remained unbearably taut. His face seemed perpetually strained at the effort of reining in his movements.

She couldn't forget the man he used to be. A man of power and strength with a fearless swagger in his steps that was entirely gone now. His natural physical grace had been erased, like a stallion lamed. He would never regain the beautiful gait she'd once loved when she'd seen him dance. The fear of falling or striking something would forever mar his movements. Even now his face tightened with frustration as he floundered about for his silverware.