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

CHAPTER SEVEN

“ M ama, you look pretty!”

Joan twirled slightly in front of the mirror, smiling at the way her dress shimmered softly beneath the light. The pale blue fabric suited her greatly, and it made her eyes shine, and perhaps that was why she was looking forward to attending the ball tonight.

Although she has resigned herself to doing whatever Georgina asked her — within reason — she was not keen on making such a public appearance at a large event such as a ball. And as the night drew closer, her anxiety threatened to consume her.

Then she remembered that her uncle had passed.

Somehow, it was still gradually dawning on her that the figure that had haunted most of her childhood and even her nightmares for weeks after she had run away was gone and would never return to harm her.

And for the first time in years, Joan put extra care into getting herself ready for an occasion. She used to give only the barest of efforts to her appearance, focusing on tidiness and not beauty, in a bid to thwart her uncle’s looks and attention.

Now, she did not have to. She had nothing to fear anymore.

And gradually, the anxiousness that had been filling her lungs began to fade, replaced by excitement.

“Do you really think so?” she asked her daughter, beaming fondly at the girl as she ran her little fingers over Joan’s dress.

Sophia nodded seriously, as though she had been asked a very important question, her reaction making her mother giggle.

“Thank you, darling. I feel quite lovely too.”

She had worn her favorite dress, put her hair up using jeweled pins that belonged to her mother, and applied some rouge to her cheeks. She felt… truly alive. Buzzing with energy that she hadn't felt since she was a little girl.

“Can I come with you, Mama?”

At Sophia’s request, Joan’s heart was pricked by a twinge of sadness.

“Oh my love, not tonight. But one day, you and I shall go to a ball together and I’ll dance with you as many times as you want.”

“Promise?” Sophia asked, holding her hand up to her mother, her eyes bearing a brighter sparkle than Joan’s dress and jewels.

The child could never really seem to recall which fingers were used to make promises, so she often held out a hand, leaving it up to her mother to link their pinkie fingers together. Once their fingers were locked together, Joan bent over and placed a kiss on Sophia’s head.

“Listen to what the maid says, all right? Be a good girl for me.”

Sophia nodded, tightening her grip around her mother's for a moment as she declared, “I promise!”

They left the room together like that, fingers intertwined as they made their way down to the foyer.

Georgina was already standing there, muttering impatiently as some servants fussed around her. When she caught sight of Joan, a look crossed her face, and she exhaled,

“Good, you’re ready. We should leave now or we’ll be late. Come along, cousin.”

“Just a moment!” Joan called after her cousin, who was ready to leave, given how she already had one foot out of the door.

She gently cupped Sophia’s cheeks with her hands and told her daughter softly,

“I’ll be back before you know it. All right, poppet?”

Sophia nodded and hugged Joan’s legs.

“I'll wait for you, Mama.”

Leaving Sophia was hard, but her excitement was also a strong contender for how she felt that evening. As though she could sense the anticipation flooding Joan's senses, Georgina felt the need to caution her.

“Do not forget that we are here to subtly reintroduce you back into society. Be on your best behavior and do all you can to sell the story that we came up with. If you spot the Baron, apologize to him at once. He is all we have for now as a potential husband for you. But hopefully tonight, you’ll be able to pique the interest of anyone else who looks your way. ”

Joan wished she could simply enjoy the evening, without feeling as though she was tasked with many missions to carry out. The last ball she had been to was with her mother.

Joan's mother, Priscilla, had not been feeling her best for days leading up to the event; however, on the day of, she had insisted on going and had only wanted to take Joan with her.

Her mother had watched couples dance the whole night, a wistful smile on her face as her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

She passed away two days later, and Joan had wondered if perhaps attending the ball was her attempt to reminisce over some of the happier moments she had lived in her life.

Joan only hoped she would make happy memories here tonight as well.

The ball had already begun before their arrival, and the spirit of the festivities quickly caught up with them.

Georgina had numerous friends — most of whom she had met at boarding school and had been friends with since then — and she was pleased to introduce Joan to them.

There was a strange light in their eyes as they observed her for a moment, but after that, they were utterly kind and respectful. Still, Joan felt like an outsider, and they talked about other friends or family members she hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet.

“Did you hear about Miss Collins? Apparently, her father found her in the shed with their gardener! She claimed to love him, and her father had begun to make arrangements to send her to a monastery.” One of them said.

“The gardener? How scandalous! How could she allow herself to be seduced by such low-class filth?” another asked, shuddering heavily at the end of her statement.

Georgina tsked, shaking her head in disapproval.

“People find it so easy to disregard their upbringing in the name of following their hearts or some other nonsense. And when it leaves them saddled with the consequences, they have to commit themselves to a life of dealing with it. Utterly disappointing,” she said, looking annoyed.

Although she had not outright said anything about Joan, she felt uncomfortable that her cousin thought about others this way.

Not to mention that Joan wasn’t at all interested in gossip.

She made some excuse and used the chance to slip away, already forgetting the other ladies and their mean ways moments later.

The ball was truly a lovely space that was arranged to enchant guests. There were bright chandeliers, tables covered in the best refreshments imaginable. Joan helped herself to a glass as she swayed slightly to the stunning music.

She hoped Sophia had eaten her dinner and gone to bed like she was supposed to, missing her daughter immensely. It was wonderful to have so much freedom for once in her life, and she only hoped it meant things would be easier for them, moving forward.

Joan had been trying to get another glass of lemonade when she bumped into someone.

“Oh goodness, I am so sorry —”

“It is fine. A small price to pay to see you again.”

Joan recoiled at the sound of that voice, her knees already feeling weak.

It was him. Graham. He was here too.

The sight of him sent a bolt of lightning down her spine and she couldn’t help but step back when she realized how close he was. She could smell his intoxicating sense at this distance and it made her head spin.

For a moment, she nearly leaned closer to take in another lungful, the thought serving as a horrific reminder that she was not meant to entertain this man in any way.

Joan quickly sputtered an apology and fled the scene, hoping that he wouldn’t follow her again. But somehow, he has managed to corner her again.

“Might I ask for the honor of dancing with you?”

He made sure to ask loud enough that people who were close by heard as well, only complicating matters. She couldn't reject him so openly, not without bringing judgment upon herself as well. Reluctantly, she forced her lips to accept his request.

“Of course, sir. The honor… would be mine.”

His touch was gentle as he led her to the dance floor, and even when one hand rested on her hip, the other held onto her hand to help him take the lead. Joan had to fight against the familiar warmth bubbling within her, trying to disrupt anything that might make her recall their night together.

“That was quite rude. You did not need to cause such a scene over a single dance,” she scolded him quietly.

Graham quirked an eyebrow at her and nodded slowly,

“Is that so? My apologies, but such behavior is to be expected from a Scot. We are quite a rowdy bunch,” he explained softly.

Joan clenched her jaw and tried to ensure her thoughts weren’t wandering in any way as they danced, keeping her gaze settled on a fixed position over his shoulder, so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

That barely did anything other than cause her to lean closer to his body, the warmth of it reminding her of the vivid memories she had tried her best to outrun but was seemingly unable to.

Slowly, the thoughts started to leak from the walls she barricaded them behind, carrying memories she had worked to hide away from.

She recalled his smell, his kiss, the way he drew noises repeatedly past her lips –

Panicking, she tried to pull away, grunting moments later because he wasn’t having that, especially now that he had seemingly gotten her where he wanted her.

“I feel as though our recent meetings were fated. I have never been a superstitious person, but surely something or someone is at work, ensuring that you are in my line of sight tonight,” he murmured.

His words were almost… romantic, but Joan also found them strange and scary. Had he been looking for her all night? Perhaps even before that, before their meeting in the park?

Why? Did he know? Had he suspected for a long time that she had something of his?

“What a strange thing to say, given we only met a few days ago in the park,” Joan pointed out, ignoring the unease bubbling within her.

His grip around her waist tightened slightly, almost possessively, as she found herself being pushed closer to his chest as he wondered,

“Is that so? You are strikingly familiar, though. I could’ve sworn we’d met before that.”