Page 22 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
“W-What?”
Graham pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, whispering his request once more against them.
“Marry me. I want to be in our child’s life. In Sophia’s life, and yours as well. I can give you everything you’ll ever want. So, marry me.”
“That – that is ridiculous. You owe us nothing. You have no reason to take in strangers in a bid to fulfil some righteous ideal –”
“No,” Graham snapped, scaring Joan slightly. “It is not – do you really believe I am only doing this because I feel apologetic you had to raise her all on your own for so long? Truthfully, the sentiment is there. I do feel bad about that. Immensely so, especially because I searched for you. For years since that night. I never stopped looking for you. I wish I had looked harder. Perhaps things would have gone better if I had. But I am not trying to pay my dues. I want you to be my wife. I want to know my daughter. I would like to be a family with you both.”
Doubt began to creep up Joan’s spine.
Why would he want to marry her when he could simply take Sophia away if he wanted to be in her life, leaving Joan alone? What would a Duke ever see in someone like her?
He must be lying, she thought, steeling her reserve.Cooking up some sort of scheme to punish me for keeping all of it from him.
“No,” she gritted out fiercely, shoving him off of her. “I will do no such thing. Stay away from my daughter and me.”
Without another word, she ran away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Oh, darling, does it still hurt?”
Joan watched, her heart breaking, and Sophia whined, tossing and turning in pain. She had been fine the night before, when Joan checked in with her after she returned from the ball.
Then this morning, she had refused to eat her breakfast, claiming that she did not want to. An hour after that, she developed a fever.
Joan was growing increasingly worried because no matter what she did, the child wasn't getting any better. Her worries were amplified by her encounter with Graham the night before, as she began to wonder if, truly, she was an unfit and insufficient parent for Sophia, like Georgina had been implying all along.
“I’m sorry, poppet. I will get you some help. You’ll feel better in no time,” Joan fiercely promised, setting a damp cloth on the child’s forehead before she left the room.
Outside, she told herself it was necessary to go to Georgina for help, at least one last time. She did not like how much she replied to her cousin, but the situation didn't offer her any other choice.
With a deep breath, she walked down to the drawing room, where Georgina usually spent her time relaxing, startled to find her with a guest. She grew displeased to see it was none other than the Baron of Highcastle.
Joan had managed to steer clear of the man during the ball, especially because Graham had taken most of her attention then, but even now, she felt no urge to apologize for any of the things she had said to him.
Acknowledging the Baron with a singular, quick curtsey, Joan turned to her cousin and pleaded,
“Georgina, please, we must send for a physician at once. Sophia is really sick, and despite all my attempts, she does not appear to be improving. She needs help from someone who can provide it.”
Georgina looked sympathetic for a moment, and then she shook her head.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that, Joan. I am simply not financially capable of doing that. I can barely manage to make ends meet with two other mouths to feed and house now. We cannot afford to send for a physician,” she said with a frown.
Joan was devastated.
“H-How? How can we not afford it? I've given you all my earnings from my work as a tutor, and somehow, we're still barely scraping by? Please, Georgina. I'm frightened, and she is in pain. We need to get help,” she pressed, ready to fall on her knees if it meant she would get what she was looking for.
“I might be able to assist you,” Highcastle stated suddenly.
Reluctantly, Joan turned to him, confused and surprised that he would even choose to involve himself in a conversation that was not about him.
“You might?” Joan echoed, feeling suspicious and weary.
Highcastle smiled and sat back, spreading his arms with a pompous expression.
“Certainly. I am willing to do just anything for my wife. Whatever she desires, she will have it. But you see, I cannot simply give money away. Not to a woman I have no connection to, and certainly not one who disrespected me so boldly. You’re proud of your intelligence and wit, so I am sure I do not need to tell you what you need to do.”
