Page 46 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
The duke smiled, picking her up to sit on his lap.
“I am glad that I could deliver you both from such a bad place. And I am honored you think so highly of me. I am no prince, but I will slay anything in my path if it means I can keep you and your mother safe and happy,” Graham pledged earnestly.
He had not known what to make of things when Sophia had wandered into his study with a book clutched in her hands. He had offered her the empty settee in the middle of his office, wanting her to be well within his sight from his desk.
She was so focused on the words on the pages of her fairytale storybook that she had failed to notice his intense scrutiny.
Graham could not help but be utterly struck by the resemblance between the two of them the first time he had seen her. The child’s hair was a dead giveaway, but the more he got to really know her, the more pieces of Joan he found within Sophia.
They had the same focused pout, the same disdain for tomatoes, similar smiles, and the very same precious nose scrunch that made their irritation quite obvious to those witnessing it. Perhaps it was the years that they had spent together, time Graham often felt dismayed for missing out on, that attributed to those similarities.
Eventually, he had gotten over the initial discomfort within him over the moments he was unfortunately absent, and he appreciated that he finally had them both within his reach.
After all, he had spent five years believing that the only thing he and Joan had made during their first night together was love.Who would have thought their relations had yielded something more tangible as an expression of the connections between their souls?
“You are the best prince, Papa.” Sophia expressed earnestly, her lovely face alight with awe.
“Only because I have you as my princess, darling.”
To his surprise, Sophia shook her head vehemently. “No, papa. I can’t be your princess. Mama is your princess!”
With a light chuckle, he proposed, “Maybe I could have two princesses. Or is that against the rules?”
Sophia frowned, her eyebrows drawn together as her teeth worried her lower lip, a little habit she shared with her mother – likely adopted it from her as well. Gently, Graham tugged her lip free from the absentminded abuse, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“You can be my princess. Your mother will be my queen. I’d slay many dragons for you both, without fail,” he promised.
He was rewarded with a bright twinkle in her eyes, and suddenly he understood what his father had told him many years ago.
“There is nothing quite as rewarding to a man than knowing he has provided his family with comfort and happiness. Very few things compare to the clear indicator that your home is filledwith loved ones who have only ever known a life of warmth and adoration. The knowledge of that is quite priceless. Very much so.” Fergus Lennox had pointed out one evening to his son as he watched his daughters and wife dance together, their merry laughter filling the air.
After his father passed, Graham had done what he could and more to ensure his sisters and mother were well taken care of. But for years, it felt as though something was missing from his life, as though he was destined to chase that feeling of self-satisfaction for the rest of his days.
And then he crossed paths with Joan again, and his dull world was suddenly filled with color.
Suddenly, he had a greater purpose; he had more he wanted for his new family, as an extension of himself. And he hoped these days would never end. He hoped he could look back on them, satisfied without a shadow of doubt that he had done everything in his power and more to love and provide endlessly for those he cared so deeply for.
“That sounds nice, Papa,” Sophia admitted quietly, as though she was afraid to reveal too much of her inner thoughts.
“Doesn’t it?” he teased lightly, loving how precious her expression was.
Before she could respond, the butler knocked at the door.
“Pardon me, Your Grace. Mr. Clark has come to see you for the scheduled meeting.”
Graham glanced at his solicitor’s face as the man lingered behind Williams, looking nervous, and his instincts told him it was going to be a long afternoon.
“Perhaps it is time you went to find your mother, darling. She is likely on the verge of worrying herself into a frenzy, looking for you,” he said to his daughter.
Sophia looked reluctant to leave, but still she picked up her book obediently after Graham lowered her to her feet.
“Can I come back later, Papa? To tell you more stories?” she asked, looking so afraid to hope.
It pained Graham to see her so subdued and unsure, wondering how many moments she had lowered her eyes like that, afraid of asking for what she deemed to be too much. He wondered how Joan would encourage her, how Sophia’s mother would cull her reluctance and replace it with something kinder and stronger.
That moment reminded him that he was never upset with Joan for keeping their daughter away from him, as she was a fine mother from what he had come to understand. Whereas he faced struggles routinely, when it came to basic matters, such as what to say to his daughter.
He could only hope that what he believed was his best would suffice.
