Love Is Blind Read Online Free PDF Page A

toward him. This was his lady mother's first coming out since her husband's death, and Adrian suspected she would not even be here now were it not for the fact that she was determined to see him do his duty by the family. That was why he was here. This last year, as her grief had waned, his mother, Lady Mowbray , had begun to harangue him about his duty to the family name, nagging him about the need to marry and beget an heir. He'd argued with her over it, informing her that no one would have him with his face so hideously marked, but his lady mother had been deaf to his words.
    It was well past time he gave up his sulking in the country and learned to deal with his wound was all she'd had to say on the subject. He had a duty to fulfill and had best get around to fulfilling it. And with those uncompromising words, she'd managed—after a year of repetition—to drag him back to court. So here
    Adrian stood, feeling like a troll among so many fine and glittering people. At least, that was how he'd felt until he'd sat down beside Lady Clarissa.
    "There you are, son. Whatever are you doing hiding away here in the corner like a naughty boy?"
    Adrian grimaced at his mother's words, feeling just like the naughty boy she suggested. Still, he took her hand in his and kissed it in a courtly manner. "I am hardly in a corner, Mother. I am right out here in plain sight, where everyone may look upon my disfigurement."
    Lady Mowbray scowled. "No one is even marking it. You let it bother you far too much. It is much less noticeable now. Time has softened its effect."
    'You may be right," Adrian agreed laconically. "At least, no one has fainted at sight of me yet, or run screaming from the room." Noting her irritation increase, he smiled apologetically and changed the subject. "Reginald was just about to tell me of the scandal attached to Lady Clarissa."
    His mother's eyebrows rose. "I did notice you dancing with her, dear. Five dances in a row. I daresay you shall have the gossips' tongues wagging, are you not careful."
    "I shall endeavor to be more circumspect," Adrian replied, then turned to arch an eyebrow at his cousin. "Well?"
    "Well? Oh, yes!" Clearly nervous in the presence of his aunt, Reginald smiled at her, then explained: 'You see, in late summer of 1808—August, I think it was— Lady Clarissa, a tender twelve, was visiting a friend here in London."
    "It was not a friend; it was her aunt, Lady Smithson," Lady Mowbray corrected gently. "And she was fourteen, not twelve."
    "Was she?" Reginald frowned slightly. "I see. Well. . . at any rate, shortly after she arrived, a servant followed with a message supposed to be from her mother's maid—"
    "Her mother's doctor" Lady Mowbray interrupted.
    Adrian laughed at his cousin's discomfiture at being corrected once more. Turning a rare smile his mother's way, he suggested, "Since you appear to be more versed on the facts, Mother, perhaps you would care to explain this scandal to me?"
    She turned away, but not before he glimpsed the tears in her eyes. Adrian guessed they'd been brought on by an excess of emotion, that they were a response to the change in her normally grim son, and he frowned at her reaction; but then she nodded, cleared her throat, and turned back, her face composed.
    "Certainly, my dear. My memory was just being refreshed by Lady Witherspoon. She could not hold back the nasty little tale when she saw your interest in the girl," his mother added dryly, seeming recovered. She then shrugged and dove into the explanations.
    "It seems that the reason Lady Clarissa was visiting her aunt alone was because her mother was ill at the time. This illness killed her some months later, whereupon Lord Crambray married the present Lady Cram-bray, a most unpleasant creature by all accounts." She shook her head, then returned to her tale. "At any rate, shortly after Clarissa arrived at her aunt's, a servant arrived with a message addressed to the aunt, supposedly from Lady Crambray's