Page 12 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
“I do my best,” he said solemnly. “But sometimes I wish someone would help him instead. He doesn’t have many friends.”
The sincerity in the boy’s voice tugged at something in Wilhelmina’s chest. She had known loneliness too well to dismiss it in others, especially in a child.
“I think your father is luckier than he knows,” she offered.
“I told him to write to you, but he wouldn’t. So I did instead.” Hector paused. “You’re not going to stop writing, are you?”
Wilhelmina hesitated, then shook her head. “No. Not yet.”
The conversation drifted to lighter topics as they rode. Hector told her all about his dogs and the governess who made him copy Latin conjugations thrice if he got them wrong. She laughed more than she had in weeks, maybe months. He was sharp and candid, but entirely free of cruelty.
She didn’t correct him when he kept calling her Lady Silverquill.
For the first time in a long time, she let herself just be. Without performance, without armor.
They arrived at the Talleystone estate just as the last of the daylight faded. The house loomed ahead, stately and grim.
As they reached the front steps, the door flew open, and the butler—grey-faced and wild-eyed—stared at them in horror.
Wilhelmina dismounted and lifted Hector down carefully.
“Lord Hector!” the butler cried. “Thank God you’re home!”
He turned his gaze on Wilhelmina. He looked confused and rightfully cautious. She was, after all, a stranger bringing home a child who had probably been missing for hours.
“This lady brought me home,” Hector explained. “Don’t worry, Mr. Elton. She’s a friend.Myfriend.”
“My Lady, His Grace will wish to thank you personally,” the butler said, sweeping his hand in a gesture of welcome.
Wilhelmina’s first instinct was to decline. She stepped back from the door, but Hector reached for her wrist.
“Yes, she is coming in. Papa would love to talk to her! She’s the one who brought me home, after all!”
Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes at him, but he only winked at her.
Perhaps he’s not as innocent as I thought.
Still, she sighed heavily, seeing no way out. She promised to listen to him, and she did, but somehow she felt compelled to spend more time with the little boy.
“Very well, then.”
The house was grand, as one might expect of a duke’s residence, but there was more to it than sheer size. Beneath its stately façade lingered a quiet elegance, one that seemed carefully maintained to mask a deeper kind of disarray.
“Pardon my rudeness, My Lady. I am Mr. Elton, His Grace’s butler. How shall I announce you to His Grace when he arrives?” the butler asked.
“Lady Slyham,” she replied.
“Lady Slyham?” Hector echoed, widening his eyes at her as if she had betrayed him.
She widened her eyes back, and he seemed to understand the need to be quiet.
The butler left them to fetch the Duke.
Once they were alone, Wilhelmina knelt before the boy and met his wide, earnest eyes. “Lord Hector, I must ask you something important. No one—not even your father—must know that I am Lady Silverquill,” she whispered. “That secret is just between you and me. I know I shouldn’t ask a child to keep somethingfrom his father, but this is different. If the truth came out, the column could be no more… and your father would be far less inclined to listen to anything I have to say if he knew about me.”
Hector frowned, looking down at the rug beneath their feet, clearly processing what she’d just told him.
“B-But Papa needs to hear what you have to say. You are Lady Silverquill, and you give grown people advice.”
