Page 94 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
“Wilhelmina?” he asked cautiously. “Are you—are you all right?”
“I am not,” she replied, not even trying to hide it.
It was out there. On her face. In her breaths.
“She is trying everything. At first, she accuses me of stealing Robert from her. H-He never loved her! I mourned him for a year. I-I went back into Society with no intentions of finding another husband. But s-she doesn’t know how much—” She broke off.
Gerard could guess what she was about to say, but he could not be completely sure. What he was certain about was the urge to comfort her. He stepped closer, no longer willing to keep his distance. He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently.
“Enough of that, Mina. You don’t have to let her poison affect you. You know the truth, and that is what’s important. I knowthe truth, and if it should remain only between us, then it is what matters,” he said, meaning every word.
His wife looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, but there were no tears. Not yet.
“I-I wish you could have met Robert. He was the only one who ever saw me for who I truly was, aside from my siblings. He knew that I hated being paraded about like cattle. We were kindred souls,” she sniffed, before laughing bitterly. “Did she really think I could hurt Robert?”
Gerard stood by his wife, even as her words came tumbling fast, almost gushing out like blood. He needed to be there to stop the bleeding.
“Hush,” he whispered. “Do not give that woman power over you. She should not have any.”
“Do you believe me?” she asked, wide-eyed. Hopeful.
She studied him, looking for clues. He was not used to seeing her looking so frantic, and it made his chest tighten.
“Of course, Mina,” he said softly, running his eyes over her face. If only he could take away her pain right now. “Without question.”
His response seemed to break the dam.
Her shoulders heaved with sobs that she was still trying to suppress. Gerard pulled her closer. He didn’t press, didn’t force her, wanting her to decide for herself if she needed the strength he was offering.
“Robert had been so good to me,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his chest.
There was such raw pain in her words, which was quite unexpected for someone who grew up with a caustic tongue like hers.
“I thought he was my savior at the beginning, pulling me away from my mother’s clutches. Then, he turned out to be even better than that. He gave me freedom because he didn’t hold me in a glass cage. No, he wasn’t like that at all.”
Gerard felt that strange heat in his chest again. He could feel the grief pouring out of her, but something else mingled with it—his own grief. His own pain.
He tapped her back as if he were comforting a child. With the most patience he had ever mustered in his lifetime, he waited until her ragged breaths evened out.
“He was quite lucky to have you, Wilhelmina,” he murmured. “He was fortunate to have been loved by you. Do you still love him?”
He meant his words, yet he could not deny the bittersweet taste they left in his mouth.
Wilhelmina had gone still, her sobs subsiding at last. She was quiet, but she didn’t push him away either. She was just there.
“Of course I still love him,” she whispered. “We were so much alike in many ways. He was a kindred soul.”
Gerard had not realized how her answer would cut him, like a sharp blade. His arms fell to his sides. He didn’t want to leave her standing on her own, but he also could not stand to remain there when she had just destroyed any hope he had left.
“Still love him.”
“Kindred soul.”
He straightened and stepped back, making sure to steady her before dropping his hands.
“Gerard?” Her eyebrows knitted together.
She looked confused. His wife didn’t know how her words had cut him.
