Page 51 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
Gerard exhaled sharply. “You and my son have somehow formed a bond that I can no longer ignore. It isn’t easy for him to find someone who can truly be good for him.”
He paused, studying her. She was listening, but there was suspicion in her eyes. At least, she was hearing him.
“I know you would be a steady, calming presence for him. And I… I would see to it that you are cared for in return. Widows, especially young ones without children, do not often?—”
“Enjoy much favor?” she cut in, narrowing her eyes at him.
Gerard stiffened at her words.
“It is practical… and contractual,” she said, equal parts praise and reproach.
It struck him as perfectly Lady Silverquill. Even in discussing what he hoped would be a future together, she remained clever, challenging, and entirely unwilling to surrender control.
“I am not trying to insult you,” he replied swiftly, as though to prevent any misunderstanding. “That is the last thing I would do. I am only attempting to secure your agreement to the arrangement. I am no man of flowery sentiment, but I know I can provide for you. You would have a decent station and financial security.”
“Still,” she said, shaking her head, “you have a remarkable talent for making it sound as though you’re hiring a governess who merely happens to wear finer gowns.”
Gerard’s gaze remained steady on her. “Despite Hector’s skill at evading her, Miss Elliot remains his governess. My son struggles to form connections, and you… Like I’ve said before, he has a great affection for you,” he said evenly. “Had I desired another governess, I would have hired one. But that is not the matter here. I want you to be my wife and Hector’s stepmother.”
Wilhelmina had to admit that his words made her breath catch. She knew, of course, that he could not possibly understand the real reason behind her reaction, and perhaps that was for the best. Still, she chastised herself for being so easily flustered.
The Duke had been brisk, unyielding, and perfectly pragmatic, as though he were offering a lease rather than a marriage.
A widow and a widower entering a union for practicality rather than affection?
She had once lived that life; her first marriage had been convenient, yet not altogether loveless. Though it was devoid of romantic love.
And yet here she was once again, caught at the intersection of duty and desire.
“Your proposal is indeed… tempting, Your Grace,” she said carefully, folding her arms across her chest as though to shield herself. “If this is your way of proposing a marriage of convenience, then I can understand the coldness.”
The Duke did not flinch. He opened his mouth, then closed it, as though realizing the folly of speaking too freely.
Wilhelmina felt a similar stir inside her. She would not yet reveal that she was not unfamiliar with marriages of convenience. True, her first marriage had lacked passion, but it had notbeen without its small joys: the thrill of keeping a private camaraderie, a secret only she and her late husband shared.
“Then again,” she added softly, “I was married before. I did not expect to marry again.”
The Duke’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “I know this marriage will not be the same,” he said evenly, “but it will benefit us both.”
Wilhelmina’s chest tightened at his words. Practicality, protection, benefit—those were the terms he offered. And yet, for reasons she could not entirely explain, they carried a weight far heavier than the cold pragmatism he intended.
“I guess it won’t be the same,” she murmured.
“Affection can grow, Lady Slyham. At least, I can reassure you that respect already exists between us.”
Respect.
Wilhelmina thought about her difficult situation.
How hard could another marriage be? It would be harder to remain a widow, constantly scrutinized and judged, and perhaps pursued by lecherous married men.
At least, the Duke knew what it was like to be married before. It might not be the same as her marriage to Robert, but a loss was a loss. The Duke knew what loss was like.
Perhaps she could ignore the coldness of their marriage as soon as she fully accepted how beneficial it would be for her financially. She would be taken care of, not a constant pariah and not a burden to her sisters.
That was enough for her. Her position as Lady Silverquill was already in danger of fading into oblivion.
When she blinked, she saw Hector standing beside the Duke. The memory of his tight hug, the soft plea in his voice, rose unbidden in her mind. He had allowed her into his small world so completely, so effortlessly.
