Page 71 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
His face contorted into a displeased glower, pale lines streaking over the bridge of his nose and another across his cheek — scars she did not recall. He seemed taller, even as he limped forward,his dark eyes studying her face and body in a way that made her skin crawl.
“I do not understand why you would ask me such a question. Did you really expect me to have brought her here? She is somewhere, safe and sound. If you behave yourself like the good girl I raised, I will give an order for her to be released. Even though that bastard father of hers does not deserve any kindness from me. For you, my precious rose, I will do anything.” Benedict stated with a smile, the twitching corners of his lips making him look more unreliable by the second.
“Do not talk about my husband like that —”
Joan had barely completed her reproachful statement before he took another step towards her and she felt her joints stiffen again.
“Shut your mouth! How dare you claim that — that brute before me? That no good ruffian, who you let defile you? I am disappointed in you, Joan! Of all men, him? You gave yourself to that filth? And you are raising his child as well? How could you do this to me? I searched for you for years! I put so much of my life aside, just so I could find you, my rose.”
It was strange, how his tone kept changing from furious to desperate, as though he could not settle on how best to convey a message Joan had no desire to listen to.
She was disgusted and appalled by this display and all she cared for was getting her daughter’s whereabouts.
“That is not why I am here, Uncle. Just tell me where?—”
“You were meant to be mine! Mine!” Benedict screamed suddenly, startling her greatly. “We were destined to be together from the start. I own you. And no matter what you do, no matter how far you might try to run, you will never escape me.”
For a moment, Joan nearly gave into the horror sinking its claws into her.
Then she realized that his words were nothing more than rubbish. Because she had managed to get out somehow. And she had built a decent life for herself without any support from him.
No matter how he made her feel as though there was nothing — no possibilities, no more chances for a woman only asking for a good life, she would always rather take her chances out in the open.
Away from him.
“I did it once. And I lived just fine without you. I can do it again. If you disapprove so greatly about the choices I made, you do not need to force yourself to consider granting me your forgiveness or keeping me here. Tell me where my daughter is,” Joan demanded in a fit of courageous rage.
Benedict was silent at first, and just as she had begun to believe that she might’ve gotten through to him, he lunged at her.
Joan screamed, trying to pull out of his grasp but he was too strong and soon, her body was against his. His grip was firm, with hand clamped down against her hip and another on her wrist that he kept pulling in her direction.
Just like all those years ago, his touch caused her spirit to wither, and her courage to fail as fear and dread took root within her.
“Please…” she begged, weakly struggling. “Please let me go. I only want to see my daughter.”
“Why does she matter more than I do? You only want to remain on the good side of that worthless vermin. What has he given you that I cannot provide? Hmm? My rose, I have loved only you, for so long. A filthy boar like him will never be content with you. Come home, to where you belong,” Benedict cajoled gently, his lecherous smile sending chills down her spine.
Graham, for all the rumors about him and his brutish nature, never exerted his strength over her. Not during their first night together, not even during the times he has touched her after they were wed.
He had listened to her, stayed attuned to her needs and ensured that all he did brought her pleasure. He was always warm, always kind and sweet.
And he was the only one who had any right to touch her.
Feebly, she pushed against her uncle’s chest, desperate to be out of this situation and away from this cretin.
“L-Let go of me, right now,” she panted, hating the weakness in her bones that she knew he had inflicted upon her.
“It seems you have forgotten your manners, Joan. I will be happy to refresh your memory,” he hissed as his hands began to roam around her body.
Repulsed, Joan begged her body to exude more aggression during her struggled and when she realized her fear was keeping her paralyzed, she began to scream.
Tears streamed down her face as she prayed, begging for someone to come and save her.
Suddenly she was overcome with immense regret. She wished she had held her daughter closer more, hand kept her hand securely wrapped around Sophia’s so the child would not wander off so often.
She wished she had spent more time with her husband, had tried not to judge him so much and so often based on the fears that kept her from resting.
It was unlikely that anyone had noticed that she was missing, even more so that they were out looking for her. Once Benedict had his way with her, her could take her wherever he wished —or even keep her here, a property she did not even know he had and no one would know.
