Page 32 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
Joan nodded, trying to commit every detail to memory. She had never imagined that being a duchess would involve so much more than simply bearing the title. The weight of expectation pressed down upon her shoulders like a heavy cloak, one she had decided on her own to cover herself in.
“And the household traditions, Your Grace,” Penelope added with great enthusiasm, as though she did not find anything else quite as important as what she was about to speak on. “There are seasonal celebrations, charitable events, and of course, the annual tenants' ball. His Grace has maintained all of these since inheriting the title, though...” She paused delicately.
“Though what?” Joan prompted.
“Well, Your Grace, he has always attended these events alone – if at all. Most of the time, he organized the celebration and provided all that would be needed for a good time, but would not bother to stay. The tenants have been quite curious about him, especially concerning when he might take a wife. They shall be quite pleased to meet you properly.”
The thought of being scrutinized by so many people made Joan's stomach flutter nervously. She had spent the last five years trying to remain invisible, attributing her survival to how well she could blend in seamlessly without being noticed. And now she was expected to be the public face of one of England's mostprestigious duchies. It was inconceivable and not for the first time, she wondered if marrying Graham was a wise decision.
After spending the morning learning about menu planning, staff schedules, and the intricate social obligations that came with her new position, Joan found herself desperate for a moment of peace with her daughter. Sophia always had a way of grounding her when the world felt too overwhelming.
But when Joan searched Sophia's chambers, the nursery, and even the kitchens, her daughter was nowhere to be found. Even the maids had not seen their little lady scurrying around as she loved to do, eyes alight with curiosity. Panic began to creep up her spine as she hurried through corridor after corridor, calling her daughter’s name with increasing desperation.
“Sophia?” she called out, her voice echoing through the grand hallways. “Sophia, where are you, my darling?”
The silence that greeted her only intensified her fear. What if Sophia had wandered outside and gotten lost on the grounds of the vast estate? What if she had fallen down the stairs? This would give the Duke all the proof he needed to assert that Joan was an unfit mother and have her stripped of her parental custody. What if –
Joan forced herself to take a deep breath, realizing in a little moment of clarity that this was not the way to go about things. She needed help, and there was only one person in this house with the authority to summon every servant in search of her daughter.
She practically ran to Graham's study, not bothering to knock before bursting through the door. “Your Grace, I need your help. Sophia is missing, and I cannot find her anywhere, and – “
The words died in her throat as she took in the scene before her.
The Duke sat behind his large mahogany desk, papers scattered across its surface, but he was not alone. Sophia was curled up on a plush chair beside the window, a children's book in her lap, her red curls catching the afternoon sunlight as she traced the illustrations with her small finger.
“Mama!” Sophia exclaimed, looking up with bright eyes. “Papa has the most wonderful books! This one has pictures of horses, castles, and princesses!”
Joan felt her heart twist strangely in her chest at hearing her daughter call Graham 'Papa' so naturally. It did not surprise Joan, who knew how much Sophia had dreamed of this moment for years – of having a father figure who truly cared for her. However, now that it was happening, Joan felt inexplicably threatened by it.
She did not think it would take such little time for her daughter to accept her father, much less crave his company so eagerly.
“Sophia, you shouldn't be disturbing your father while he works,” Joan said quickly, moving toward her daughter. “Come, let us leave him in peace.”
Her hands had barely touched Sophia’s shoulders when her husband’s voice permeated the air around them.
“Actually,” Graham interjected, looking up from his work, “I invited her to stay. She was wandering the halls looking quite lost, so I thought she might enjoy some company while I attended to some correspondence. Although, I must admit I that I might have not been as entertaining as she might have preferred, seeing as I merely showed her to some books and left her to her devices.”
His voice was gentle, but Joan could hear something else underneath, perhaps disappointment that she had assumed the worst of the situation. The admission he made at the end carried a slight echo of hesitation and Joan tightened her hold on her daughter instinctively.
“Oh no, Your Grace. I appreciate your generosity, but she might surely be interrupting your important work –”
“I assure you, it is all right. I believe that as a parent, nothing is more important than our daughter's comfort and happiness, no?” Graham said firmly, before looking down at Sophia, his smile a little uncertain. “She has been an absolute angel, haven't you, darling?”
Sophia beamed at the endearment, though she was clearly pleased to be so adored as she nodded excitedly. “Papa taught me some Scottish words! And he said when I'm older, he'll teach me to ride horses!”
The casual way Sophia said'Papa'again made something twist painfully in Joan's chest. It had been so easy for them to bond, so natural, even. It had only been a mere few days since they had started cohabiting together, and somehow, Graham had managed to secure a place in Sophia's heart that Joan had spent years protecting.
“That's... that's wonderful, darling,” Joan managed, forcing a smile. “But you really should come with me now. You need to have your bath before supper.”
“But Mama, I want to stay with Papa – “
“Sophia,” Joan's voice came out sharper than she intended, causing both Graham and Sophia to look at her with surprise. She softened her tone immediately. “Please come with me. Now.”
Graham rose out of his seat, his brow furrowed with concern. “If you insist, Joan. I do not believe her time here was as well-spent as it could’ve been, but I did not mind at all. There's no rush – “
“She needs her bath,” Joan insisted, scooping Sophia up into her arms despite her daughter's soft protest. “Say goodbye to... to His Grace.”
“Goodbye, Papa!” Sophia called over Joan's shoulder as she was carried from the room. “Will you read with me again tomorrow?”
