Page 37 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
“Imagine riding an elephant through India,” she murmured, holding up a thick volume as though it were a passport.
Wilhelmina smiled faintly. There were times when she longed to escape London, to abandon its endless demands. But then she thought of her younger sisters and reminded herself that her role was not so easily shed. Perhaps, when they were finally wed to influential men, she might scandalize everyone by vanishing abroad.
Turning to a shelf of poetry, she quickly found the slim volume she had been hunting for recently.
“One thing I am imagining,” she said lightly, “is the horror of being trapped at the modiste with Mother and Daphne. I can hardly survive the pins and prods when I am alone, but add Mother’s running commentary, and it becomes unbearable.”
“Books are infinitely preferable,” Victoria declared, flipping eagerly through a travel journal. “I am certain you’re just like me, Mina. Searching for a way out of this stifling world. More dresses are not the solution.”
“Well, I am a widow,” Wilhelmina said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I have proved myself marriageable at least once. You, however, may not be spared the modiste’s attentions.”
Victoria nodded with mock solemnity. “In that case, I ought to marry an ailing old lord at once. Widowhood would be my swiftest escape.”
Wilhelmina let out a laugh. “Choose carefully, Sister. Old men are not always obliging enough to die on schedule. You might find yourself shackled for decades, and Mother would be arranging your next match before your mourning veils were even folded away.”
“True,” Victoria conceded with a dramatic sigh. “But if luck was on my side, I could spend my widowhood exactly as I pleased. Perhaps even frighten off second suitors by cultivating a bad reputation. Think how peaceful that would be.”
Wilhelmina shook her head fondly. “You make widowhood sound enviable.”
“Not enviable, butstrategic,” Victoria corrected with a grin.
Her levity made Wilhelmina’s chest tighten, though she hid it.
Widowhood was not freedom, not truly. Still, Wilhelmina kept it to herself.
Eventually, each sister selected a book, and they made their way to the counter.
Beyond the window, the streets still teemed with noise and movement, but inside the bookshop, all was calm, as though time itself had slowed.
Wilhelmina was passing her book to the shopkeeper when a voice suddenly called out, “Lady Slyham!”
She started, only to see something small and sturdy run toward her.
It was Hector. Flushed from the crisp morning air and excitement, he looked impossibly alive. His eyes sparkled with glee as he stopped in front of her.
“You’re here, too!” he exclaimed, panting.
“As you can see,” Wilhelmina said, sweeping her arm dramatically. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your governess, studying diligently, Lord Hector?”
“Well, not at the moment, My Lady. Father and I are running errands,” he replied, grinning.
Wilhelmina looked up and spotted the Duke of Talleystone a few steps behind him.
“Oh. Are you?” she asked lightly.
“Yes. But I persuaded Papa to bring me. I love stories,” Hector said, puffing up his chest proudly.
“Your Grace,” Wilhelmina and Victoria greeted, curtsying.
The Duke nodded once. “Lady Slyham. Lady Victoria.”
In the soft daylight, the Duke’s eyes held the calm at the center of a storm, dark gray and blue mingling like clouds and sky.
Wilhelmina cleared her throat before turning to Hector. “Have you met my sister, Lady Victoria?” she asked. “Vicky, this is Lord Hector, the Duke’s son. And, of course, he’s with his father, who requires no introduction.”
“What are those in your hands, Lady Victoria?” Hector asked eagerly.
“A few travelogues,” Victoria replied, her eyes wide with excitement. “I long to explore the world someday. I also picked a book about pirates, for I adore adventure stories, and some folk tales from distant lands.”
