Page 11 of Claiming His Lost Duchess (The Dukes of Sin #8)

CHAPTER NINE

“ T his is unacceptable. You must reconsider, before it’s too late.”

Joan sighed quietly, hoping that Georgina would relent soon, a little unsure if it was wise to harbor such wishes. After all, the other lady had remained steadfast in her attempts to dissuade Joan from her decision to marry the Duke of Rutledge for nearly half an hour.

There couldn’t have been a worse time and place to do this, because Joan was only moments away from getting married to said Duke.

“Joan —”

“Georgina, please. I have already made up my mind,” Joan said tiredly.

“You cannot be serious! Why would you ever believe that this was a wise decision to make? Lord Highcastle would have been a much better suitor for you! This choice… There is nothing a Scottish Duke has to offer. His reputation is as bad as it could be — and he is the talk of the town, in more ways than one. People even say that he has killed numerous men. You cannot truly believe that he would make a good husband — a good father even, to Sophia. Think of your child!” Georgina hissed, frustrated.

Joan saw no use in arguing with her cousin because she had concluded that they were on opposing sides and would remain there for however long this topic was relevant.

Her main focus was on Sophia, who appeared excited by the hustle and bustle that had overrun the estate while preparations were being made for the wedding.

Her health has improved greatly, and it was quite clear she was enchanted with her new home, eager to explore every nook and cranny as long as she could.

However, Joan was finding it hard to let her do just that, fearfully holding her daughter closer each chance she could because she feared the next embrace might be her last.

The Duke had stayed away most of the time, occasionally coming to Joan’s room to ask if she had settled well and enquire about Sophia’s health. Other than that, he made no move to make any demands of Joan, and it all made her so uneasy.

With a deep breath, Joan turned away from her reflection, putting on a smile as she beckoned Sophia closer. When the girl had gotten to where she stood, Joan leaned downward to hold onto her hands, smiling at how her daughter’s fingers immediately clung to hers.

“My treasure, I understand that this all must be so confusing to you. I am sorry that I couldn’t have eased you into our future slowly. Everything I have done — all I have ever wanted to do came from a place of love. I love you so much and I only want what’s best for you.”

Sophia smiled, her eyes sparkling as she said, “I love you too, Mama!”

Joan grinned, her warm heart melting away some of the tension beneath her skin.

“I love you too, petal. I have something to tell you. And I need you to pay close attention to me while I say it. Can you do that?” she asked.

Sophia nodded eagerly, and Joan began to wonder how she was meant to face a truth she had hoped for years that she would never have to speak.

The longer she stared at Sophia, the more she could reconcile pieces of her daughter’s features with those of her father’s.

It was beyond the color of her hair, but also the focused frown that settled over her brow — a look Joan had seen Graham wearing once when she had sneakily peered through the slightly ajar door of his study.

Even her smile reminded Joan of the charming expression he had flaunted those nights ago at the ball.

If there were so many parts of her daughter that were born from her father, how could Joan be so certain that there was enough of her in their child? Enough for her to be able to hold onto Sophia if need be?

“You see… You have asked me before who your papa was. I believe it’s time to tell you about him. Your father is the Duke of Rutledge, who owns this house.”

“Wha — what?” Georgina sputtered, her gaze wild with confusion and fury.

Joan could tell she was doing what she could to keep herself calm, and she knew she had to keep herself from getting distracted enough to stop speaking.

“We had to live apart from him for a while, and that was why you were not able to meet him before. But now he is here, and we will be living together,” she concluded, hoping that her vague explanation would somehow suffice.

Sophia’s face lit up immediately.

“I have a papa! And he has hair like mine! And we get to stay here? With him?”

Her excitement was easy to mimic, but guilt still gnawed at Joan as she nodded with a smile.

“Yes, darling. We will. Is that all right?”

Sophia nodded, causing her curls to bounce lightly, as though they were sharing in her joy.

“I’m so happy, Mama! We get to live in a big house and we get to see Papa every day!” Sophia babbled, her cheeks flushed with happiness.

Seeing her look so pleased distressed Joan greatly, but she still did her best to keep her emotions in check for the sake of her daughter.

“Good. I am glad that you think so,” Joan nodded with a smile that felt too heavy for her lips to carry for too long.

She stood straight, her hand still holding one of Sophia’s, and she turned to meet her cousin’s furious stare.

“Is that true? Is he really her father?” Georgina demanded.

Joan nodded, tightening her grip on her child. Georgina looked as though she would burst at any minute.

“How could you be so —”

A knock at the door interrupted her, and Joan was thankful for it, not seeking to get into another pointless argument.

She went to open the door, comforted by the sight of her lady’s maid, Penelope, who had been assigned to Joan at the Duke’s orders. The younger woman had been instrumental in Joan’s adaptation to the estate, making life easier with her quick response and helpful spirit.

“Pardon me, miss,” the girl said with a bow. “I was sent to inform you that the carriage is ready to take you to the chapel for the wedding.”

Joan inhaled sharply, well aware this time more than ever that this was one among the very few chances she would have to reconsider things properly.

Not necessarily in line with the things her cousin has said, but rather because of the fears that had been steadily growing within her ever since she crossed paths with her husband-to-be.

She looked down at Sophia and drew strength from her daughter’s smile.

“All right. We will be down shortly.”

She really had no other choice, because it was beyond her to offer the best care to her daughter. At least this way, Sophia will be provided for by her own father, as opposed to another strange man who would view her as an obstacle.

Holding her daughter’s hand, she marched forth, towards the beginning of her new life.

Joan’s arrival at the chapel felt as though she was walking right into a nightmare.

She never imagined this — a wedding day with a groom, a man she was willing to rely on and trust. This unorthodox situation only further highlighted her feelings for the Duke, the confusion she felt about the way her body couldn’t help but react to him and his touch, with the underlying understanding that it would be too dangerous to believe his words.

But as she watched him smile at Sophia as the little girl walked down the aisle with a small basket of flowers that had been prepared for her, she knew she was willing to endure all she had to, for her daughter’s sake.

The Duke stood tall in the aisle, his eyes trained on her after he had watched Sophia settle comfortably in the pews. His gaze set her cheeks aflame, and she felt her feet lead her closer and closer to him, until she was standing by his side, before the vicar.

Graham’s gaze raked over her body, and he hummed softly, nodding at her vicar to carry on with the ceremony. Just as the officiant parted his lips to speak, the Duke leaned down, his breath hot against Joan’s neck as he whispered,

“Thank you for changing your mind. I’ll ensure you don’t regret it.”

Joan blinked, stunned by the earnest tone of his voice, wondering why he would bother to reassure her.

This man confused her to no end, seemingly doing what he could to make it seem as though… he wanted her. And she couldn’t fathom such a notion, unable to understand even the possibility of it.

The vicar began his recitals for the ceremony, and Joan was lost on the details of it rather quickly, barely managing to pay enough attention to say her vows.

All she knew and felt was the steady grip of the Duke’s rough hand on hers.

His touch stayed long after the ceremony had ended, while they bid a disgruntled and disappointed Georgina goodbye, even throughout the journey back to his estate.

Joan half expected that with his desperation to marry her, he would be eager to claim her as soon as he possibly could. But she was surprised at his calm mannerisms upon their arrival at the Rutledge estate.

Carefully, he lifted Sophia out of the carriage and handed her over to Penelope, who carried her away with promises of a biscuit if she behaved during her bath. And then Graham helped Joan disembark, draping her hand over his arm before he led her into the house.

Just past the foyer, the staff had assembled, their postures expectant and somewhat on edge.

Graham cleared his throat, and their gazes sharpened, as though they were viewing Joan in a new light.

“This is my wife. Moving forward, she is to be treated with the utmost care and respect, as the new Duchess of Rutledge. I expect that the same honor that has been shown to me is also given to her on all counts,” he stated sternly.

“Yes, Your Grace,” they chorused like a choir.

The Duke seemed satisfied because he gently urged Joan closer, his touch a reassuring, slight pressure on the small of her back that was eating away at her thoughts.

“This is Mr Williams, the butler of the estate. Most of the time, he’s the only one who has an idea about my whereabouts,” Graham said, gesturing to a man who looked almost as tall as himself, his silver hair cut rather short, which made him look even neater than he already appeared.

Next to the butler was a middle-aged woman who curtsied when the Duke’s gaze fell upon her, gazing up at Joan with a small smile.

“This is Mrs. Martha Wintersdown, the housekeeper of the estate. She knows much more about the estate than I would ever hope to, so whatever you need, she will be able to help guide you in some way. All your needs are to be voiced to her whenever you cannot find me,” the Duke stated, nodding at the woman politely.

There was a man who stood after a handful of maids, his expression open and kind, and the Duke approached him, and shortly, she learned that he was the cook.

“Robert. His dishes are quite superb, rivalled only by my mother’s. Whatever you desire — whatever Sophia likes, tell him and he will somehow manage to prepare it for you in record time,” Graham told her, his tone still as soft as it was when he had begun to make the introductions.

As Joan stood in front of them, she thought it would be good to say something, nervously clearing her throat and speaking after a nod from Graham.

“It — it is lovely to meet you all. I look forward to living with you as your duchess. I hope I will be able to bring you honor as the Duke has,” she said uncertainly.

It seemed to suffice, because their expressions softened a tad, and they bowed and curtsied to her.

“As I stated previously, I expect her to be cared for properly, alongside my daughter. Any complaints or reports of disrespect I received will not be taken lightly. As you were,” Graham waved them away, steering her towards the direction of her room.

Two days after she had been certain that Sophia had recovered completely, she took the offer to move into a separate room, away from her daughter.

If she were to be married, it was best to have separate quarters, as she couldn’t…

entertain her husband in the same bed as the one she shared with her daughter.

Sophia had only pouted about it at first, but quickly, she soon saw the benefits of having a room to herself and swiftly forgot her initial upset.

Now, as he led her to her room, she couldn’t help but feel nervous again, wondering if she would be able to fulfill her wifely duties. But instead of making any demands or letting his hands wander, Graham pulled away and stepped back once they reached the door.

“I will leave you to get settled. The staff are at your beck and call, but if you need anything, you can also come to me,” he said, his voice still holding onto the earnest tone he had a habit of using around her.

It did something to her, beseeching her to view him differently and let go of the scrutiny and distrust she had against him.

And to her utmost confusion, Graham simply nodded curtly and took his leave.

For hours after that, Joan nervously waited for a summons that never came. She had dinner with Sophia and put her to bed an hour after that, smiling as her daughter regaled her with stories of the adventures she had experienced around the estate that afternoon.

After she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, Joan’s anxiety returned as she made her way back to her room.

She couldn’t help but pace around once she was there, unsure of what to expect. Her husband… he was unlike any man she had ever met, but a man nonetheless.

Although he had expressed no intention to visit her chambers that night, he was still a man who needed an heir for the sake of his dukedom. Surely that meant he would require her to produce one?

She had only just managed to convince herself to sit down before a knock at the door caused her to spring back to her feet.

“W-Who is it?” she called nervously.

There was silence for a moment, and just as Joan thought she might have misheard, a gruff voice stated from the other side of the door,

“Your husband.”