Page 75 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
Again, Gerard heard his son’s hysterical laughter, and his heart softened, as though it had been frozen and a sun ray was finally thawing it.
He turned to Wilhelmina briefly. “What aboutdragon fire?”
“Who told you that?” Hector demanded, pushing his head between the makeshift gates.
“Oh, I have my ways, Sir,” Gerard replied solemnly, bowing his head.
“You may then enter, Duke.” Wilhelmina made a face of mock defeat. “Please follow the rules within. If you are not certain, please ask the lord of the domain.”
Gerard played along, crouching down so that he could breach the gates. Hector, who must have forgotten that he was the lord of the fort, jumped into his father’s lap. Gerard embraced him instinctively. Wilhelmina shifted to make room for them.
“What is the fort for, My Lord?” Gerard asked.
“It can be for anything I deem important,” Hector declared, puffing out his chest. “It can be used to defend the kingdom, trade, or even answer Lady Silverquill’s letters.”
“And nap,” Wilhelmina added with a grin.
Gerard arched an eyebrow. “Lady Silverquill? Are we now corresponding as Lady Silverquill, as well, My Lord?”
Wilhelmina chuckled, the sound warming the air around him. “He wanted to respond to some letters. The young lord thought it proper, but he insisted on protecting his identity within the fort.”
Gerard almost smiled.
Wilhelmina leaned over to smooth the draped blanket into place. “We might add some books, Hector. Robert always likedsurrounding himself with volumes when he worked. He said they kept him company, even when he was alone.”
The name fell into the room like a stone in water. Gerard went still.
“Who is Robert?” Hector asked, wide-eyed.
Wilhelmina’s smile softened as she touched the boy’s hair. “He was my first husband, dearest. You never knew him.”
“Oh.” Hector considered this gravely. “Does it make you sad to talk about him?”
“A little,” Wilhelmina admitted quietly. “But it is all right. He was part of my life, and I remember him fondly.”
The sweetness of the moment pressed in on Gerard until he could hardly draw breath. Her tone and expression were tender, softened by memory.
Not for him, but for Robert.
His chest constricted. Warmth turned to ice.
“Apologies,” he said abruptly. “I must leave.”
Wilhelmina looked up, startled, her lips parting with curiosity, but he had already risen to his feet. Hector slid off his lap as hestepped back through the gate of blankets, his movements jerky with restraint.
In another breath, he was out of the room, striding away before he could betray the ache beneath his ribs.
This was all his fault. He had married a woman whose heart still carried another man’s memory, just as his first wife’s heart had belonged to someone else. His first marriage had ended in tragedy.
He would not compete with a ghost.
Wilhelmina had scarcely seen Gerard since that night. There were evenings when she wondered if she should simply knock on his door, or even push it open, but each time she caught herself.
No, that would be presumptuous. He had reverted to his cold reserve, and she would not risk intruding.
And yet he lingered in her mind as she watched Hector play. The fort he had built with blankets and chairs seemed to tempt his father, but Gerard had retreated as if he were reminded of the rules he had set for himself.
Perhaps he, too, feared overstepping.
