Page 67 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
His pulse quickened at the thought, a dangerous thrill that both alarmed and consumed him.
“Victoria was the one who placed the frog in Daphne’s reticule,” a voice whispered.
It was night. Gerard had spent a lot of time with his friends and touring the estate to see what was needed. At first, all he could hear was silence. He had felt relief at the thought.
But soon enough, he heard voices coming from the parlor. One of them was Wilhelmina’s. He’d recognize her voice anywhere now.
But what is she doing downstairs?
“Daphne was searching for her lavender perfume. She put her hand in her reticule and felt something move. Somethingslimy. She screamed so loud that our father was ready to cane her, but he was calling Victoria’s name. The two are identical, but Vicky has always been the mischievous one.”
Her laughter tinkled, like music. It was something she could not have made up. She didn’t even know someone else was listening.
Another voice laughed. Someone older.
Gerard almost groaned aloud.
Mrs. Everly.
It looked like his wife had truly taken over the staff.
“That is why you can handle Hector well,” the housekeeper commented admiringly. “He is like your sister. Mischievous, but he does not mean harm. One time, he released a mouse during supper. I don’t know how he was able to catch one, but Cook certainly wanted to leave that day.”
“Leave? Because of the mouse?” Wilhelmina asked, sounding genuinely curious.
At that point, Gerard had drawn close enough to see the usually prim and proper housekeeper and his Duchess sitting on the couch like long-lost friends.
Wilhelmina’s eyes were wide and round, as if she didn’t want to miss a thing. She wanted to see everything. Hear everything. She lookedso alive.
A bottle of wine sat on the table in front of them, along with two glasses. It dawned on him that the two women were drinking wine while chatting.
“Well, not just because of the mouse, Your Grace. But also because of the cleanliness of her kitchen,” Mrs. Everly replied, nodding sagely.
The housekeeper seemed a little restless, though. She twisted around, and as soon as she saw Gerard standing there, she shot up from the couch.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace!” She winced.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Mrs. Everly,” Gerard said, surprising himself with his soft tone. “Thank you for keeping the Duchess company. You may retire to your rooms.”
There was no need to tell the housekeeper twice. She bobbed a quick curtsy and fled.
Meanwhile, Wilhelmina was giggling softly, the sound light and unrestrained.
Gerard’s eyes narrowed in both exasperation and fascination. His wife was definitely drunk. Too tipsy to be taken seriously, yet not so much that she would fall over. Her cheeks were flushed, her laughter spilling freely, and her hands fidgeted with the folds of her gown as if the silk itself amused her.
“Poor Mrs. Everly. You can be terrifying, you know.”
“Am I?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, absolutely,” she said without hesitation, glancing at the wine in her glass before downing the last drops. “You prowl and peer. You squint at the tiniest hint that someone might be enjoying themselves.”
He crossed his arms, letting out a sharp breath, his gaze fixed on her with quiet intensity. One hand lingered on the wine bottle as if it were a shield.
“And yet you don’t seem the least bit frightened,” he noted.
“Someone has to keep their courage about them,” she said, tilting her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Otherwise, the house would be run entirely by terror.”
She chose that moment to rise, and he had no way of predicting what she intended to do.
