Page 37 of Claiming His Lost Duchess (The Dukes of Sin #8)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“ T hank you for coming,” Graham exhaled, his throat feeling parched after all the talking he had done in the last hour. “Your presence means more to me than I can stay.”

It felt better to be in his study, away from the staff he wished he could scream at for letting this happen, from the constables who he felt were not as committed to the situation as they could be. His heart had continued to sink with every minute that passed without Sophia being found.

The regret and guilt that twisted into his gut like a dagger made it difficult to face Joan as well.

He had promised her that Sophia would be all right at home. He had given his word that everything would be perfectly fine. And yet, not only could be not hold his word, but the worst that could have happened had happened.

Graham felt determined to search the city if need be, prepared to rip apart whatever stood in the way of bring his daughter back home.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Where else would we have been while you were dealing with something so horrifying?” Lysander asked, his tone void of the usual humor and sarcasm he often used to refer to Graham.

“Still. Thank you,” Graham said, willing his mind to leave the worries and concerns behind and focus on what mattered.

The constables had searched the house from top to bottom, even managing to find a few secret passages that the Duke was unaware his house possessed. At the end of it, there was no sign of Sophia’s disappearance, nothing that could point them in her direction.

“This is all very strange. If the kidnapper wanted to gain something from this, they would’ve left behind a letter stating their demands. But no such thing has been found anywhere on the property.” Julian pointed out, handing Graham a glass of water.

Lysander paced about thoughtfully, his eyes unfocused as they stared ahead of his feet.

“Is there anyone who would have a reason for doing such a thing? Someone with a grudge, perhaps?” he asked eventually, coming to a stop before his friends.

Graham paused, searching his thoughts for an answer.

Since no ransom demands had been made, just like Julian had pointed out, an enemy with a grudge was the most likely culprit.

But Graham could not think of anyone who would want to cause him or Joan such strife. He kept to himself and his wife was quite content with only her husband and daughter for company.

Nothing of recent would warrant such an action — especially when it would be much easier to simply confront them with their transgressions.

“I can’t think of anyone,” Graham said honestly, his thoughts wandering to his wife.

Joan was so distraught and scared for their daughter, he was worried the worry might make her sick. She had requested for some time alone and he had granted it, seeing as that was all he could do.

But now he wanted to seek her out and hold her, to reassure her that Sophia would be found soon, despite what the fear trying to take root within him was saying.

“Are you certain? I heard about the altercation with a few men at the club a while ago. Are you sure none of those men could be behind this?”

Graham snorted, feeling frustrated. “I doubt any of those spineless cowards could’ve managed to cook up such an elaborate ploy to get back at me for humiliating them among their peers. They would have to —”

He trailed off, a face coming to mind for a moment.

Could it be?

“Have to what? Why did you stop speaking?” Julian queried, confused.

Graham shook his head, “No, it’s nothing. I just thought?—”

But the longer the idea stayed in his head, the deeper its roots dug into his head.

There had been someone — someone who had enough contempt for Graham that it bled over into their feelings about Joan.

“Joan’s cousin… Georgina. She did not approve of our marriage, and she ensured her distaste was expressed vocally, even before my family members.

She seemed particularly aggrieved when last we saw her a few days ago, and my wife sent her away shortly after that,” Graham recalled, still feeling proud of Joan for standing up for herself and him.

There had never been a moment of doubt of his feelings for her within him, and her actions then had only made him love her more.

Graham felt a surge of desperation well up within him.

He needed to do whatever it took, to bring Sophia back.

He must save his family from whatever peril was poised to strike.

“And you are certain she could not have done this?” Lysander pressed, seemingly unconvinced.

“The whole ton disapproves our marriage, because they disapprove of me even more. Taking my daughter is a step too far in the name of that,” Graham responded.

Still... something within him felt as though it would be worth it to at least speak to Georgina.

“We should talk with her,” he proposed, picking up his coat from the back of a settee where he had deposited it. “You and I, while the others are still doing what they can to search around the area.”

Lysander nodded. “All right.”

,

“I’ll keep an eye on things here, and I will send word of anything I think you need to hear as soon as possible,” Julian announced as they left the study.

“Thank you,” Graham told him sincerely, before hesitating, speaking to Lysander a moment later. “I need to inform Joan of where I am going, so she does not worry. I will meet you outside in a moment.”

Lysander nodded and they parted ways, heading in opposite directions. Graham rushed to her room, slowing down his pace at her door, so as not to barge in and wake her up if she had fallen asleep.

He raised his hand to knock but felt himself stop before he made contact with the surface of the door. The guilt he had tried to keep away surfaced, threatening to consume him whole.

Since they received word of Sophia’s disappearance, he had felt as though he was responsible somehow.

It had been hard, reassuring Joan when he had no way of knowing for certain that things would be fine.

Graham felt reluctant to face her, unsure of his overwhelming affection for her could even be stated at this time.

Still, he wanted to hold her and remind her that he was not going to stop until Sophia was back home with them.

“Joan?” he called softly, rapping his knuckles against the door.

He waited, but received no response.

Assuming that she had fallen asleep after all, he walked into the room quietly, frowning when he was greeted by an empty space. He stepped further into the room, thinking that she had perhaps tucked herself into a corner or was keeping herself busy, out of sight.

But a few minutes of inspection told him that she was indeed not in the room.

He walked back out to the hallway, catching the attention of a maid heading in his direction, beckoning her with a single nod.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Have you seen the duchess? I expected her to be in her room, but she isn’t. Do you know where she might have gone?”

The maid shook her head, her gaze tinged with uncertainty.

“N-No, Your Grace. I have not seen her, not since you both returned from the party,” she told him.

Unease settled beneath Graham’s skin.

He quickly moved down the corridor, walking in the direction of the foyer.

There, he found more maids standing about, with the housekeeper, their worried whispers floating around the space.

Once they noticed him approaching, the maids scurried to hide behind the housekeeper who seemed alarmed by his sudden appearance.

“Your Grace –”

“The duchess. Where is she?”

“I – we don’t know, Your Grace. We saw her leave the house a while ago. She had a letter in her hand and she looked as though she was in a hurry.”

A letter?

“Who delivered the letter to her? Do they know who sent it?” Graham asked, feeling more worried with every passing moment.

“No, Your Grace. I have tried to ask the other staff and Mr. Williams, but they all insist that none of them were the ones who gave her the letter. We do not know how she got it.”

Who would have sent her a letter? And how did it end up in Joan’s hands?

Georgina likely knew how to get into the house from her previous visits. She, more than anyone he could think of had a reason to ‘punish’ them for something she felt was wrong. She must have had something to do with this.

Without another word, Graham went outside, easily spotting Lysander waiting for him with two horses held by their reins.

“We are going to Georgina Brooks’ house, now,” Graham stated, mounting his steed.

Without another word, he set off, his heartbeat echoing thunderously in his ears.

Graham rode like the wind, his desperation to find his wife and child pushing him to go faster and faster, until the Farhampton house came into view.

Lysander had managed to keep up with Graham’s pace, though his concern was not concealed when he dismounted from his steed as they arrived, Graham already at the front door, banging his fist against it.

“Is something wrong? You seem even more... motivated to get into this house than you were when we talked earlier. I thought you only vaguely had suspicions about this woman,” Lysander said, eyeing his friend.

“Something is afoot and she knows exactly what it is,” Graham gritted out, before slamming his fist against the door again.

The door fell open slightly and the butler faced the unwelcome guests with a glare.

“Kind sirs, this is not an appropriate hour for guests. The mistress is –”

“I do not give a damn about your mistress’ feelings about receiving guests at this hour. I am the Duke of Rutledge, and I demand to speak with her at once,” Graham stated firmly.

Due to his widely known reputation, Graham did not need to introduce himself any further and the butler’s eyes widened with recognition and fear.

“My apologies, Your Grace. But I cannot –”

“I do not care. Open this door this instant and tell your mistress I would like to see her immediately.”

Wisely seeing reason, the butler swallowed and stepped back, opening the door fully so the men could come in.

Once they were inside, he quickly said, “I will inform the lady of the house.”

Graham watched him scurry away, barely able to keep himself still enough to realize that these were the walls that his wife had grown up in.

Something about the colors of the wallpapers and the décor saddened him. Joan was such a vibrant woman, filled with so much passion and life. She deserved better than to be stuck in such a dreary place, especially since other horrors were confined within as well.

There and then, he swore to love her fiercely, with everything within him. No matter what, he would shower her and his daughter with all the affection and gifts they would want and more.

The butler returned, gesturing down a hallway.

“This way, Your Grace.”

Lysander nodded in the direction the butler had gone, letting Graham walk ahead so Lysander could follow behind. The butler led them to a drawing room with a lit fireplace, and in the middle of the room stood Georgina.

“Your Grace,” she curtsied, a glass of what looked like brandy nestled in the grip of her right hand. “How unexpected. I never imagined that you would seek me out like this.”

Despite the curtness in her tone, Graham could see the drink in her glass slosh around, as though her hand was shaking. She was certainly nervous, and her inability to hold his gaze was just as telling.

“I did not come to exchange pleasantries with you. I do not particularly care for you or your thoughts and opinions about me or my family. But this evening, my daughter went missing. And now, my wife is nowhere to be found, although she was seen rushing out of the house earlier with a letter in her grasp,” Graham said.

“And you think I have something to do with either of those events?” she scoffed, taking a step back. “Perhaps your staff are simply not as capable as you believe. Though I wouldn’t expect them to be, given that they have such a man as their master –”

“It seems you do not value your tongue, woman.” Lysander stepped forward, but Graham held him back with a single hand.

“Don’t bother,” Graham shook her head, before he approached Georgina.

“She can only wag her tongue, because she knows she will not be seen otherwise.

A woman like you, so proud yet so empty, with no family or husband to torture with your petty thoughts and ideals.

.. it must kill you to see your cousin living such a fulfilling life, despite your belief that you know what is best for her.

Though I must say, you know nothing of the despairs of life if that is all that keeps you awake at night.

“I know you have something to do with this. And you have two choices – either you tell me what you know, or dally – and watch as I set ablaze everything you hold dear. You may doubt me and my words, but make no mistakes — I cherish nothing more than my wife and daughter. And if you do not tell me where they are now, I will not even hand you over to the constables. I will take care of you myself. You are one of those who believe that I am nothing more than a beast — do you want to see just how beastly I can be?”

She was visibly shaking now, her face pale as she glanced back at Lysander, dismayed to find him uninterested in jumping to her defense.

“I didn’t think he would do something so rash,” she started quietly, her voice getting louder and more frantic with every word. “When I told him where she was, I thought he would simply swear her off and out of the family so we could finally —”

“Who? Who are you talking about?” Graham asked, narrowing his eyes sternly.

Georgina hesitated, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

“My father. The Viscount of Farhampton.”