The Arrangement

by Mary Balogh

More important, he liked playing it. It soothed his soul, though he never confided that thought to his friends.

He was not particularly tall and he had a slight, graceful build.

the mouse.

the mouse

the mouse

mouse

How silly they all looked, especially

when their expected guest was a blind man.

He was not particularly tall, and he was graceful and elegant. He also looked well shaped and well muscled in all the

right places, as though he lived a vigorous life and was fit, even athletic. He was dressed for evening with perfect good taste and no ostentation. He was, in fact, really quite gorgeous, and Sophia felt foolishly smitten.

His eyes. They were large and wide and very blue, and they were fringed with eyelashes any girl might envy, though there was nothing even remotely effeminate about them. Or about him.

She must know the

secret of making oneself heard above a din by pitching the level of one’s voice below it rather than trying to shout above it, as most people did.

I dream of a richly lived, independent life. My life and no one else’s. But perhaps it is not a dream I talk of, Miss Fry, is it, but a goal. Dreams are wishes that will in all

probability never come true. I could make my dreams come true. Indeed, I mean to.”

“We are talking of dreams,” she said. “We may be as ungrateful as we wish in our dreams.”

Sir Clarence knew the cost of a stagecoach ticket to London, and he had given her that exact amount with nothing extra, even for light refreshments on the journey.

chaperon.

CHAPERONE

chaperons

She wanted this marriage so very badly. She wanted him very badly—his sweetness, his sense of honor, his dreams and enthusiasms, even his vulnerability. She wanted someone of her own. Someone who called her by name and held her for comfort and laughed with her. Someone beautiful and achingly

attractive.

But I might believe the sentiment if I were sure he loved me above all else. And if I loved him with an everlasting kind of love in return.

Do you believe in that kind of love, my lord?”

“I do,” he said, playing a scale softly with his right hand. “It does not happen to everyone, or even perhaps to most, but it does happen. And it must be wonderful when it does. Most

people settle for comfort instead. And there is nothing wrong with comfort.”

And of course she fell in love with Dan, upon whom she had never really looked fully before. She discovered that he was wondrously strong and handsome and that he was not, of course, an idiot at all, only as blind as a bat. And he confessed that he had adored her in secret all his life because she had a

voice like an angel. They married in the church with the great spire and lived happily ever after.

“She loves me, Vince,” he said. “Me. Just as I am, without any conditions attached. It’s the grandest feeling in

the world. She would accept it even if I did want to stay here all my life.

Ah, let him be adequate. Let him be a worthy husband for this damaged little waif he was marrying. Let him be a good companion and friend. Let him be a decent lover. Let him protect her from harm all the days of their lives.

want to touch you. All over. I want to make love to you.”

Marriage was marriage. It was not right to stretch it and twist it to suit one’s own purpose.

“I am going to make him happy,” Sophia said impulsively. “I have never

before had a chance to make anyone happy.”

“I am hopeful,” he said. “Indeed I am distinctly hopeful this morning that you are the angel for whom I have been praying for my Vincent, Lady Darleigh.”

But I am glad you are not some sort of superhuman pillar of strength. I would not be able to prevail against it. I am too weak, too fragile. In each other’s

weaknesses, perhaps we can both find strength.”

She was about to discover who she was, she realized, and what she was made of.

But touch is important to me, Sophie, perhaps more important

than it is to most men. Never be afraid to touch me.”

chaperon.

CHAPERONE

It had certainly not been designed for a blind man. More important, in the three years Vincent had been here, it had not been modified for a blind man’s use. Could it be?

Movement—forward movement—is so much more exhilarating than static exercises.

We all need friends or at least

friendly acquaintances of our own sex,” he said. “There is a different sort of relationship with friends of one’s own sex than with someone of the opposite sex, and it is one we all ought to cultivate. What I mean is that I understand and am glad for you, Sophie.

Oh, God, she loved him. She stared up at him, shaken—and yet relaxed. For of course she loved him. He had rescued her. He had married her. And he was beautiful and sweet and kind. It would be very strange if she did not love him. It was not such an

And she did not need his hands. She would never allow herself to need them. Or him, except in a purely material way, for she would starve without his support. But not in any other way. She might want, but there was a difference between

wanting and needing. She could float alone. She could live alone.

Once you can float, you can learn to swim in a trice.”

Marrying her had been a good move, he realized. He was always able to relax with her. He enjoyed their conversations. He loved her humor. He was comfortable with her. He liked