Page 95 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
When Gerard was certain that she would not fall over, he moved further away from her, already angling for the door. His jawclenched as he eyed his distraught wife. He could no longer help her when he was also suffering. Not today.
Perhaps tomorrow. Maybe in a fortnight.
“I just remembered that I have important matters that require my immediate attention,” he grunted. “Get some rest. You will feel better tomorrow. I hope.”
The last two words were the most genuine. He hoped that his wife would feel better soon, recover from the love she still held for her dead husband.
“Rest now?” she asked, her eyes glazed.
“Yes. I believe it is best,” he replied. “I must leave, and I will come back late.”
Gerard had no plans to come back whatsoever. He didn’t know where he would go, but it would surely be anywhere away from her.
Wilhelmina opened her mouth, as if she was about to protest—perhaps that was wishful thinking—but he made for the door before she could say anything. His body was rigid and unyielding.
No, he would not listen to her. She would only confuse him.
He closed the door behind him, the latch clicking with finality.
Even as he walked through the corridor, his footfalls echoed the hollowness inside him. He walked faster, as if somebody was chasing after him, even though the door did not open again.
Wilhelmina did not follow after him. Why should she? She was still in love with Robert.
Gerard had married a woman who would never belong to him, and it was not even the first time. However, this time, he did wish that she would give their marriage a chance.
Chapter Thirty
“Papa, will you be joining us for supper tonight?” Hector asked. There was a tinge of hope in his voice, but there was caution, too.
Wilhelmina could understand why the boy was a little hesitant. Gerard had been in a strange mood of late. He was barely home.
Gerard bristled. His gloves and hat were in his hands. He had just arrived from an important meeting he had never told her about. His demeanor was cold, like the chill of dusk.
“I had business to attend to and letters to write,” he snapped. Then, he started, as if he didn’t mean to respond like that.
His face softened, and his eyes grew wary. The boy took it as a sign that he could further plead his case.
“B-But you were out for—” Hector protested, his shoulders sagging.
“Not tonight, Hector,” Gerard interrupted. “Perhaps another night.”
The last three words were uttered softly, as if to cushion the impact of his rejection.
He walked away quickly, not even acknowledging Wilhelmina’s presence.
To be fair, she was standing in the corner, barely moving. She had not seen much of him the past few days, but she was the one who felt like a ghost. Even as he went up the stairs, she stood there, several feet behind Hector.
She said nothing. She should have told Gerard to take Hector’s feelings into consideration, but something stopped her. It was almost as if she knew she was the cause of his black mood.
But how?
What had she done wrong?
The days that followed were more of the same. Gerard did try to leave polite notes with his butler or footmen about where he would go. He’d been to clubs, offices of his business associates, the stables, and many other places. One thing was clear—he did not want to be at home, and it was worse than ever.
Wilhelmina made it a point to spend every minute she could with Hector. Perhaps it was Gerard’s way of reminding her that they had an agreement. He would protect her with his name while she kept his son company.
In the small dining room, Wilhelmina and Hector tried their best to make jovial conversation. However, it always veered back to Gerard’s absence.
