Page 35 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
“I am… unsure, myself. I suppose it was because she was rather protective of Sophia – which I have come to understand as likely the instincts of a mother simply trying to ensure the safety of her child. It is rather frustrating, because I am the child’s father and I wish to get to know her, but… her mother seems to harbor some distrust for me. I cannot fathom why, though.”
There were a number of things about Joan that made Graham restless. He could barely control himself around her, almost entirely consumed by the desire within him to claim her again and again. Over and over, until all they knew was each other.But Joan had this wall around her, one that Graham was worried would collapse on her if he got too close and prodded too hard.
She was shrouded in so much mystery, and Graham was very unsure what the right move was when it came to dealing with her.
“And now?” Lysander prompted.
“Now I have a wife who acts as though she wants me one moment and can barely stand my presence the next. I have a daughter who is the most precious thing I've ever laid eyes on, and a marriage that feels like it's built on quicksand.”
Julian leaned forward with a casual shrug. “Marriage is always built on quicksand in the beginning, Graham. The trick is learning to build something solid while it feels like both of you are still sinking.”
“Very poetic,” Lysander said dryly. “What Julian is trying to say is that you're going to have to be patient. Perhaps this woman has some sort of trouble from her past that is the cause of her reluctance. If that is the case, she's not going to trust your intentions easily. You'll have to prove yourself, likely repeatedly.”
Graham nodded, knowing his friends were right even as frustration gnawed at him. He wanted Joan to see him the way she had that first night – as someone who could keep her safe, someone worthy of her trust and affection.
“She's worth the effort,” he said simply.
“They always are,” Julian agreed. “The ones worth keeping always are.”
The conversation turned to lighter topics after that, but Graham found his mind wandering as his friends steered the discussion toward mundane topics such as politics and business ventures. It wasn’t long after that that he took his leave, and by then, the London streets were dark and mostly empty, lit only by the occasional gas lamp.
The carriage ride home gave him too much time to think about Joan's behavior that afternoon. The way she had rushed into his study in a panic, then immediately tried to remove Sophia from his presence as though he was some kind of threat. He understood her protective instincts, but her fear of him specifically was something he suspected would eventually wear on his patience.
He had done nothing to earn such suspicion. If anything, he had been a model of restraint and consideration. He had married her to give her and Sophia security and respectability. He had provided them with a home, servants, and fine clothing. He asked for nothing in return except the opportunity to be a father to his daughter and a husband to the woman he had never been able to forget.
Was that truly so threatening?
The house was quiet when he arrived, most of the servants having retired for the evening. Graham made his way toward the stairs, intent on checking on Sophia before seeking his own rest. It had become a habit he had developed quite recently, these nighttime visits to ensure his daughter was sleeping peacefully.
A small sound from the direction of the kitchens caught his attention. Graham froze, his hand moving instinctively to the knife he kept concealed in his boot. While the house had excellent security, one could never be too careful.
He moved silently toward the sound, every muscle in his body coiled taut for potential confrontation. The kitchen door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, he could see a small figure moving stealthily through the shadows.
An intruder, but a very small one.
Graham pushed the door open fully, ready to confront whoever had dared break into his home. The figure spun around with a small gasp, and Graham felt his heart nearly stop.
Red curls caught the moonlight streaming through the window. Blue eyes, wide with surprise, stared up at him. In her small hands, Sophia clutched what appeared to be several biscuits from the cook's secret stash.
“Papa?” she whispered, her voice small and uncertain.
Graham felt something inside his chest crack open at the sound of that single word.Papa. His daughter – his sweet, perfect daughter-was standing in his kitchen in her white nightgown, looking like a little angel caught in mischief.
“What are you doing down here,mo leannan?” he asked gently, crouching down to her level.
Sophia's lower lip trembled slightly. “I was hungry, and I remembered Cook giving me biscuits earlier. I didn't want to wake Mama because she looked so tired.”
Graham's heart clenched at her thoughtfulness. Such a small child, already so attuned to her mother's needs. “You should have rung for a servant, sweetheart. It's dangerous for little girls to wander around dark houses at night.”
“I know,” Sophia said, hanging her head. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, darling,” Graham said, unable to keep the smile from his voice. “But next time you're hungry, you must promise to ask someone for help. There are sharp knives in kitchens, and stairs that could trip you in the dark. It would break my heart to see you get hurt.”
Sophia nodded solemnly. “I promise, Papa.”
There it was again, that word that made his heart swell with indescribable joy. He had a daughter. He could hardly believe that this beautiful, intelligent, sweet-natured little girl was hischild, and she was calling him Papa as naturally as if she had known him her entire life.
“Come here,mo chridhe,” he said, opening his arms.
