Page 45 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
Graham seemed to sense her distress because he stood and walked over to where Joan sat on the blanket, Sophia still cradled in his arms.
“Joan,” he said gently, “Sophia is fine. Children get scrapes and bruises – it's part of growing up.”
But Joan was spiraling into familiar territory, the same fears that had plagued her for years suddenly overwhelming her rational mind.
“She's hurt,” Joan whispered, staring at the small bandage Graham had fashioned from his handkerchief. “I let her get hurt.”
“Mama?” Sophia's small voice was concerned. “Are you sad about my knee? It doesn't hurt anymore, see?” She wiggled her leg demonstratively.
Graham crouched down so that he was at Joan's eye level, Sophia still secure in his arms. “Look at me,mo chridhe. Sophia is perfectly fine. This is a normal part of childhood – “
“But what if I'm not enough?” Joan blurted out the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them. “What if she needs things I can't give her? What if she gets seriously hurt and I don't know how to help her? What if she realizes that you're better at taking care of her than I am and she doesn't need me anymore?”
The words hung in the air between them, Joan's deepest fears finally given voice.
Graham's expression grew infinitely tender. “Joan, love, you are her mother. Nothing and no one could ever replace that.”
“But you were the one who helped her,” Joan said, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. “I just sat there like a useless – “
“You sat there because you love her so much that the thought of her being hurt overwhelmed you,” Graham interrupted gently. “That doesn't make you useless,mo chridhe. It makes you human.”
Sophia wriggled in Graham's arms until he set her down, then immediately went to her mother and wrapped her small arms around Joan's neck.
“Don't cry, Mama,” she whispered. “I'm all better now. And I had the best day ever playing with you and Papa.”
Joan held her daughter close, breathing in her sweet scent and feeling the steady beat of her small heart against her chest. A smile crossed her lips when Sophia kissed her cheek noisily.
“Mama, I think Papa should kiss you like I do when you're sad,” Sophia announced with four-year-old logic. “It always makes you feel better.”
Joan looked up to find Graham watching them both with such tenderness that it took her breath away. Without hesitation, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Joan's forehead, then to her cheek, his lips warm and comforting against her tear-damp skin.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
Joan nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Good,” Graham said, offering her his hand to help her stand. “Now then, I believe someone was promised a sweet from Cook when we returned home.”
Sophia clapped her hands together, her minor injury apparently completely forgotten. “Can we come back to the park tomorrow, Papa? I want to practice my caber toss!”
Graham looked to Joan for approval, and she found herself nodding despite her earlier reservations.
“Of course we can,mo leannan,” Graham said, taking Sophia's hand while offering Joan his arm. “We can come as often as you like.”
As they walked back toward their carriage, Sophia chattering excitedly between them about all the games they would play and all the adventures they would have, Joan felt something fundamental shift inside her chest.
Maybe Graham was right. Maybe it was time to stop being so afraid of living.
And maybe, just maybe, it was time to trust that this happiness – this family – could actually last.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“- a
nd then – and then her prince jumped up and stuck his sword into the dragon! The beast was no match for the noble prince, and it was defeated in an instant! The prince then rescued his princess, and he took her away from the evil lair on his horse. And they lived happily ever after.”
Graham stared at Sophia, wondering if it would be rather obvious that he had lost the plot of this quite elaborate fairytale about ten minutes after the retelling began. Luckily, he did not have to, because Sophia sighed dreamily and clung to her father’s hand.
“You’re like a prince, Papa! Mama did not like staying with Aunty Georgina. She looked sad, and now, she is not as sad anymore!”
