Page 40 of Claiming His Lost Duchess (The Dukes of Sin #8)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

J oan could hardly believe her ears.

She sat there, long after her husband had left, his words echoing in her head.

She… she had been wrong? And he actually loved her? He cared about her beyond her relationship with their daughter?

Joan recalled how he had expressed during the first ball they had attended together that he had searched for her for so long. She had thought he was making a jest, testing her to see if she was as needy for the attention of a man as many men assumed she was.

But the longer she thought about it, the clearer his sincerity became to her. For so long, he had voiced his feelings to her, had done his best to show how much he cared for her and their daughter.

“I have been… such an ignorant fool,” she said to herself, her heart overwhelmed by his confession and the fact that he had not lingered long enough to hear hers.

With a tired sigh, Joan stood and went to find Sophia.

Although it was rather late, her daughter seemed far too energized, eagerly speaking to her uncle and aunt as though she had information they desperately needed to hear.

Margaret and Lysander seemed as though there was nowhere they would rather be, their gazes tender as they listened with rapt attention as Sophia regaled the masses with more fairy tales.

For a moment, Joan allowed herself to properly take note of Sophia’s mannerisms and features, letting herself properly notice all of Graham’s looks in her.

She made herself appreciate how they blended seamlessly with the looks Sophia had gotten from her, how obvious it had been every day that she and Graham had made such a wonderful being.

Margaret noticed Joan lingering by the door way and smiled, telling Sophia softly, “It would seem your mother has come to take you to bed, darling.”

Sophia whirled around, beaming at the sight of her mother before she ran towards her, pausing when she was a few feet away. She turned back to her uncle and aunt and curtsied.

“Good night,” she told them sweetly.

Margaret beamed, waving at her.

“Good night, my darling. Rest well.”

Lysander echoed the same sentiment, his expression just as pleased as his wife’s. Joan bid them goodbye as well thanking them once more for their support and help before she led them away.

Once they reached Sophia’s room, she eagerly climbed into her bed, sighing as her mother tucked her in.

“How are you, poppet? I know what happened must have been quite frightening. I am sorry I wasn’t here to protect you,” Joan stated, gently stroking her hair.

She worried about Sophia greatly, wondering if she was likely to be haunted about these events.

But Sophia shook her head.

“I was not afraid of the men that took me, Mama! I knew Papa would come to find me. I only missed you both a lot,” she confessed softly.

Joan was surprised by her daughter’s words.

She had never realized just how much trust Sophia had for her father, but she understood why.

He had taken such good care of them and had loved them immensely.

From the start, Graham had worked to prove himself to be a reliable father and husband, and it was Joan who was so stuck in the past she could hardly consider the idea of trusting someone wholly.

“We missed you too, poppet. So much. Your father and I are so sorry this happened. We love you so much and it was so hard to be apart from you,” Joan expressed, reaching out to hold her daughter’s hands.

Bring a mother used to be so daunting. It still was, in many ways. But it had taken a while for Joan to notice that she had grown accustomed to the gentle comfort of Graham’s presence and the reassurance that he was willing to raise Sophia by her side, even though she had never really believed it.

Oh God, what a fool she had been.

“Mama?”

Joan blinked, refocusing her attention on her daughter.

“Yes, my love?”

“Do you love Papa?”

The question caught her off guard, but she should have known it was only a matter of time before her ever observant daughter would notice her dilemma and opt to do something about it.

Joan barely needed to think too much about what she had been asked before she exhaled her response.

“Yes. I do.”

Sophia gave her mother a rather unimpressed look that confused Joan at first, then she realized why her daughter looked that way.

“Maybe you should tell Papa that, then.”

Joan laughed, light and watery as tears filled her eyes, her heart feeling all sorts of conflicting, overwhelming emotions making her heart feel heavy.

“You are growing up too fast, Sophia. I can’t keep up,” she chuckled.

Sophia did not seem to understand what she said, so she leaned forward to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, whispering softly, “I will be sure to tell him soon. Just like I tell you every day.”

Sophia nodded, satisfied with her mother’s response.

“All right, Mama. Good night.”

Joan smiled softly at her daughter, reaching out to stroke her hair fondly.

“Good night, my love.”

Joan stayed with her for a while to watch her sleep, knowing that despite the brave front her daughter put up, she might be feeling scared of being left alone. During that time, she gave a lot of thought to the way things were between herself and her husband.

Graham was deserving of better. He deserved a woman whose past was not as tainted as hers, whose family would approve of him and love him unconditionally.

She was sad that she couldn’t give him any of those things, that she was the choice he wanted to live with — that he loved, and she wanted to feel worthy of such an honor.

She only hoped it was not too late to make amends with him.

With another glance at Sophia’s sleeping form, Joan stood and quietly left her daughter to sleep.

“You are healing quite nicely, Your Grace,” the physician noted with a nod of approval as he examined Graham’s injuries.

He continued to peer closely at the wound that had come as a result of getting shot at, dabbing at it gently with a ball of cotton dipped in disinfectant.

“I would like to emphasize how important it is that you avoid any strenuous activities that would cause the wound to reopen. Although I might not need to, seeing as you have been an obedient patient this far. Still, do avoid swimming of any sort, as the wound could get infected,” the physician added as he redressed the wound in fresh, clean bandages.

Graham nodded, trying his best not to glance in the corner of the room where his wife was seated, watching the physicians every move.

He had managed to avoid her for days, in need of some space to sort out his thoughts. He was still quite angry at her for her behavior, and for thinking he saw their marriage as nothing more than a ploy to gain sole custody of their child.

He needed some time to sort through his thoughts and understand what to make of their situation, and he knew that he would get no thinking done with her by his side.

Not when he still yearned for her so much.

Graham was not sure what would happen to them, if their marriage would overcome this crisis, but did the first time since he had seen her all those years ago, Graham wondered if perhaps he should have simply let Joan be from the start.

Only to shake his head immediately. He did not regret meeting her or helping her. He regretted nothing from their past together, but he wished that his heart had been better taken care of in the long run.

Once the physician was done, he took his leave after bowing to the duchess on his way out, his hurried footsteps saying that perhaps the tension between the Duke and his wife was thicker than they might believe.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet and pulled his shirt back on, walking towards the door.

“How are you?” Joan asked quietly, rising as he approached her.

“Fine,” he said gruffly, trying not to look at her.

He could not bear the awkward silence between them, the discomfort that hung heavily in the air was set to wear him out and he simply did not have the strength for it.

So, he nodded curtly at her and left the room.

Once he was outside, he sighed deeply.

More than anything, he missed her. His heart longed for her and his body craved her warmth. But until they had managed to work through their issues, he was unsure if he could be with her.

That is, if they could even work through things.

Graham kept up the distance between them for two more days, still honoring the rule of having dinner with his family, although it made for a tense setting. Thankfully, Sophia has been blissfully unaware, chattering enough to fill the silence on behalf of both her parents.

She gave him hope that they would navigate this unease somehow, one way or another.

While trying to handle some work on his in his study, a knock at the door cut through his concentration and he say back, calling out,

“Come in.”

To his surprise, the person on the other side was none of her than his wife.

Joan made her way into the office, looking remarkably lovely for a simple afternoon and he felt his heart stir at the sight of her.

It was a chore, Graham discovered, to force himself not to dwell on such observations.

He had been working quite diligently to maintain distance between them these past days, and acknowledging how lovely she looked would not serve his purpose.

If she really did not love him, his life might as well be over.

Clearing his throat, he lowered his gaze.

“What can I do for you, Your Grace?’ he asked, trying to focus his attention and gaze in the work beneath his fingertips.

“Graham,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, uncertain in a way that made his chest tighten despite his resolve to remain unaffected. “Might I… might I have a word with you?”

He raised his eyes and studied her face carefully, searching for some clue as to her intentions and finding only nervous vulnerability. It reminded him of the early days of their marriage, when she was so reluctant to open up to him and enjoy the life their marriage had provided her.