Page 80 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
Her nails dug into her palms, her knuckles white. Her shoulders shook with barely restrained fury, and her chest rose and fell as though each breath was a battle. She could feel herself on the verge of shouting, of shattering the stillness around her.
Lady Farnmont opened her mouth to speak, undeterred. “Oh, please, drop the noble act. I can see the little harlot you?—”
Suddenly, a voice cut through the air like a blade. “Enough.”
Wilhelmina knew who it was before she turned.
Of course, it washim. Gerard.
The night had begun with laughter and ease, but she was painfully familiar with the icy edge in his voice.
But this was different. He did not merely look cold or detached. He was a storm contained, quiet fury smoldering in his eyes as they narrowed on Lady Farnmont. Each step he took toward her seemed to command the room into stillness.
Wilhelmina had no idea how much she needed his presence until his hand pressed firmly against the small of her back, steadying her trembling frame.
“Your Grace,” Lady Farnmont stammered, bobbing a curtsy.
All her haughty talk about Robert’s place in Wilhelmina’s life seemed to vanish. Her disdain was now directed solely at Wilhelmina, but Gerard’s presence made it clear that her insolence ended here.
“Know this, Lady Farnmont,” he began, his voice dangerously low. “My wife owes you no explanation. She does not answer to your gossip, nor will she justify the way she grieves. Her previous marriage is none of your business, and the way she honors her late husband’s memory is hers alone. If you do not respect that, you will answer tome.”
Lady Farnmont shrank back, her arrogance doused by the quiet authority Gerard exuded.
“Apologize to the Duchess of Talleystone—your superior.Now,” he commanded, every syllable precise, leaving no room for negotiation.
The apology that followed was hurried and insincere, but it was delivered nonetheless. Lady Farnmont retreated quickly, leaving a fragile silence in her wake.
Gerard’s gaze never wavered from Wilhelmina’s, his hand still firm on her back, as if anchoring her to the present.
“Do you want to stay here?” he asked, his voice softer now, but still carrying the weight of command.
Wilhelmina shook her head, her throat tight with unshed tears. Speaking would shatter the fragile composure she had held onto.
Robert had been her shield, and she still mourned him quietly, in ways the world would never understand.
“We are leaving, then,” Gerard declared.
There was no harshness in it—only certainty, protection, and the subtle warmth that came when he alone made the decision.
Wilhelmina followed him without a word. Deep down, she was relieved. She wanted to go home. She wanted to escape the scrutiny, the gossip, and the weight of expectation.
And with Gerard at her side, she knew she was shielded from it all.
Another quiet carriage ride. This time, though, there was no awkwardness. Wilhelmina was still recovering from the encounter with Lady Farnmont. Her nerves were still frayed. She was angry and anxious, and simply a bundle of conflicting emotions.
At home, in the drawing room, Gerard sat near the dying fire and asked, “Are you all right, Duchess?”
A sudden wave of sadness washed over her. This was her second marriage, and his too. Their circumstances were different, though. She had married her best friend to save him from a terrible fate. As for Gerard… she had never asked.
“I… I just loathe how she assumed what Robert and I had,” she said, her voice breaking. “Robert was not just my husband; he was also my friend. He understood me. I’ve never known anyone with the compassion he had.”
Gerard merely listened to her, his brow furrowed in thought.
“I loathe,” she continued, “that they question my grief, as though I’m disrespecting him. I wouldneverdo that. I did not leave my house for six months after he died, mourning him. I stilldo. However, I needed to leave the house and make money to survive.”
Gerard leaned toward her as if he wanted to hear more. “I promise you this, Wilhelmina: I cannot change how Lady Farnmont and the ton think of you. Cruelty is simply ingrained in them. However, I will not let them or anyone else dishonor you, your late husband, or your marriage to him again.”
“I doubt that Lady Farnmont would ever dishonor Robert,” she sniffed, blinking back tears. “I think she might have loved my husband.”
