Page 103 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
But Wilhelmina heard the unspoken words.“Look at them. People are talking about them.”
“They did well in their first charity event, though,” a gentleman commented. “I was there. It was a success?—”
“Is that true?” a third lady interrupted.
Soon, the conversations started buzzing in Wilhelmina’s head. The words blended with the music around them.
“Your Grace,” Lady March said, fanning herself, “the amount that was raised at your charity event is most impressive. Your skill can certainly not be ignored this time. Don’t you think?”
“I would not have succeeded if not for the efforts of everyone who came,” Wilhelmina said softly, feeling a blush bloom in her cheeks. “I am most thankful to everyone who gave me a chance.”
She felt Gerard’s eyes on her. She could swear he looked proud. At least, the small smile on his lips suggested so. But it could be anything. After all, they were trying to look like a happy couple. So why shouldn’t he be smiling?
Still, the congratulations from every corner coaxed a genuine smile from her. She could not help it. Her twin sisters were also there, undoubtedly getting acquainted with more people.
“Oh, of course it was a massive accomplishment,” Lady Farnmont drawled, her voice dripping with saccharine venom.
Every word clung to Wilhelmina’s ears like honey over glass, sickly sweet yet jagged beneath the surface.
Her chest tightened. Lady Farnmont had already tried to break her once, yet here she was, renewed and unrelenting, draped in emerald-green satin and an unnervingly serene smile.
Green for envy, Wilhelmina noted bitterly, suppressing the urge to grit her teeth.
Most of the time, Wilhelmina had liked green, but not on this woman. Not on the woman who had made it her mission to haunt her life, to use her grief like a weapon.
Lord Farnmont lingered behind his wife, a silent shade, as if drapery could match the tension in the room. Everyone said he was obsessed, but Wilhelmina now understood that it went beyond mere fascination. He never questioned her, never restrained her venomous displays, even when it strayed into the lives of others.
She straightened her spine, forcing a polite smile. “Lady Farnmont,” she said, each syllable measured, deliberate.
Civility was a mask she could wear, even under the weight of such malice.
“You sound too formal for what we’ve become,” Lady Farnmont countered, her eyes glinting as they swept the room like a general inspecting her troops. “We are a family, after all. Aren’t we?”
Wilhelmina’s jaw stiffened, but she didn’t flinch. She could feel the gaze of the crowd crawling over her, eager for scandal, drinking in the venomous display as if it were the main course of the evening.
“It’s good to see you try for once to look like you care about Society, Your Grace. Now that you are a duchess, you are trying to be part of the ton. Officially. How very proper. You seem to have forgotten what you and Robert used to say. Rebels, weren’t you? Or perhaps it was you who dragged him down to your level? He could never see how you schemed to succeed. You didn’t even have the grace to be a good wife back then.”
Every utterance of Robert’s name struck Wilhelmina like a whip. She could feel the tight knot in her stomach, the sharp sting at her chest.
He had been her closest friend, her confidant, the one who had let her breathe in a world that never gave her space to do so. She wasn’t in love with him, nor was he with her, but he had been everything else that mattered at a time when no one else had.
“Robert was kind, but he had his own mind,” Wilhelmina said, steadying her voice against the tremor she felt in her throat. “He would not have wanted to be like everyone else.”
Lady Farnmont’s eyes narrowed slightly, her grin flickering. “Would he really? You think he would have been content that you forgot him so quickly and recast his memory?”
Gerard stepped forward, his presence a sharp edge. “We’ve spoken of this before, Lady Farnmont,” he said, his voice cutting through the room like steel.
The woman only laughed, the sound high and brittle. “He belonged with me! Do you hear that, Your Grace? With me. Not with you! We had an understanding, but your ambitious family and your clever manipulations stole him away! It was your false innocence, your façade of virtue, that lured him, and I?—”
Wilhelmina’s fingers tightened at her sides.
The crowd murmured, eyes darting between the two, but the words—Robert’s name again, used like a dagger—made her stomach churn. She felt tears threatening, a flush of anger and sorrow twisting together, and yet she remained upright, silent, vigilant.
“You are sorely mistaken, Lady Farnmont,” Wilhelmina finally said, her voice cold and precise, honed by years of knowing exactly how to measure her words.
Her hands trembled, but no one would know. She had spent a lifetime taming the fires inside her; tonight was no exception.
“You schemed to catch Robert’s attention,” Lady Farnmont spat, venom seeping into every syllable. “You did the same with your Duke husband! What next? Marry a prince? Or a king? I cannot understand how any man would choose you over me!”
