Page 65 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
She had done this. She had given into the desire that had been growing within her, had lost herself to pleasure and lost her daughter as well.
This was her fault, for listening to her husband. His fault for luring her away with his sweet words and scorching touch. She had trusted in him and now the consequences of her foolishness were too great.
“I swear on my life, that we will find her. I’ll lead the search myself.”
Reluctantly, Joan nodded, feeling too drained to say much more.
Graham ran his hands up and down her arms in an effort to soothe her, his lips pulling into a frown as he turned to the staff, “If she wandered off on her one, she couldn’t have gotten far. She knows better than to go off the property or even too far from the house by herself.”
“What do we do, Your Grace? It’s been over an hour since we’ve seen her,” the butler stated, brows drawn together tightly.
“Send for the constables. As well as the Duke of Morland. I’ll need as many people as I can get to look for her elsewhere. In the meantime, I and the duchess will wait for their arrival in the drawing room.”
The staff bowed and scurried away, them Graham led Joan into the house.
“You have my word, Joan. I’ll turn this city around on its head if I have to. I will find our daughter,” Graham promised fiercely again.
Joan’s thoughts were flooding her mind faster than she could comprehend them.
What if Sophia wandered too far and got hurt? What if she had been taken? Who would even do such a thing?
Joan could barely sit still, unsure of what to do or think as she waited for more help to arrive.
Eventually, after what felt like eons, the constables arrived.
Graham was immediately before them, explaining the situation, mentioning where they had been when Sophia went missing.
“Then we will start the search from here,” Inspector Lance, one of the constables, suggested. “We’ll go around the grounds, at least once and then extend our search outwards.”
“Fine. Let us find her as soon as possible, she is far too young to be out there without her family,” Graham pointed out, glancing back at Joan momentarily before excusing himself from the men.
As he approached her, a Steward came into the room and informed the Duke,
“The Duke of Morland and the Duke of Windermoor have just arrived, Your Grace.”
“Excellent. I will be down shortly,” Graham told the Steward before refocusing his attention on his wife.
He stepped closer towards her with his arms out, speaking softly,
“I am sorry, Joan. But please do not drive yourself sick with worry. Sophia will be found and brought back home.”
He had barely begun to embrace her before she slipped out of his hold, guilt gnawing at her insides.
“I need to lie down. I do not feel so well,” Joan mumbled, stepping back.
“Of course,” Graham nodded. “That for the best. You should get some rest.”
Joan muttered a quiet “Excuse me,” as she left the drawing room, feeling numb and somewhat overwhelmed at once.
She craved the solace of her chambers, needing some time to think, to pray that her daughter was all right.
It was almost ironic, a cruel twist of fate only a god would find humorous, how her worst fears had come to life in a way she could never have imagined.
Being in her room gave her some time to breathe alone, away from the apologetic gazes of her staff and the weight of their guilt.
She had trusted them and they had failed to keep her daughter safe. It was impossible for her to consider forgiveness now, not while she still had no clue where Sophia was or even how she was.
Joan looked down at herself and laughed, the hollow, unfeeling sounds clawing at her throat on its way out.
