Page 29 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

Lady Farnmont tilted her head, her eyes narrowed.

“Ah, yes, Society. But surely there are expectations, Your Grace. Even a widow must observe certain… courtesies, especially when marrying again so swiftly. The ton can be unforgiving to those who leap into matrimony without due reflection, don’t you agree? ”

Wilhelmina’s lips pressed into a thin line, her calm masking the heat of irritation climbing up her chest.

She bowed her head slightly, letting the words wash over her, giving nothing away. “I have considered it, Lady Farnmont. And I am confident that this course is suitable for all concerned.”

Lady Farnmont leaned a bit closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Of course, one hopes it is… But you must forgive me if I remain skeptical. After all, appearances can be so misleading. Do you think you truly understand the duties of a duchess, Your Grace? Or do you merely hope to manage them with wit alone?”

Wilhelmina’s eyes flickered, just for an instant, but then she quickly plastered on a smile. “I am learning, Lady Farnmont. And I trust that, in time, even the most critical observer will see that I approach my responsibilities with care.”

Lady Farnmont’s smile sharpened. “We shall see, we shall see…” She bobbed her head, lingering a heartbeat too long.

Wilhelmina could feel the judgment radiating off the woman, the challenge in each word.

“Well, Lady Farnmont—” she began, but stopped when Gerard’s hand brushed her elbow, firm and grounding.

“If you’ll excuse us, we have some acquaintances we must greet. Lord Farnmont, Lady Farnmont.” He then turned to Wilhelmina and whispered, “May I have a word with you, wife?”

Wilhelmina gave a small, polite nod before he gently guided her away, leaving Lady Farnmont behind, her gaze still prying, still judging.

She was still trembling with anger when they entered the library, and Gerard locked the door behind them. She jerked her arm free, no longer afraid of making a scene in this private space.

She bristled, stepping forward, but he didn’t back away. “Am I to stand idle while she insults me? While she dares to question my capabilities?”

“You will not argue with me in front of the ton,” he warned, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I will not have you humiliated—not here, not ever. You are my wife. My wife commands respect, and so do I. That ends this conversation.”

Her chest tightened. “A duchess. That’s all I am to you? A title to be paraded about?”

“You are far more than a title,” he said, stepping close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

“But you are mine. Do you hear me, Wilhelmina? Mine . I will protect you. I will defend you. And I will not have you, nor anyone else, undermining what we have built, no matter how small you think it may be.”

Wilhelmina swallowed hard. His voice, so commanding, made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t anticipated. “You?—”

“I know what you want to say,” he interrupted again, lifting his hand to tilt her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his. “And you will not speak until I decide. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her defiance trembling beneath the weight of his authority.

“That’s better,” he grumbled. He leaned closer, his hands firm on her waist. “I’ve waited long enough to remind you of who I am. I am the Duke of Talleystone, and you…” He paused, his eyes darkening. “You are mine. Not the ton’s. Not Lady Farnmont’s. Mine .”

Wilhelmina’s breath caught, her heart hammering. She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, but he silenced her with a look—unyielding, commanding, impossible to disobey.

Then, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers with a fervor that brooked no denial.

The kiss was deliberate, powerful, claiming her with the authority of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. His hands tangled in her hair, pulled her closer, but never too forceful. Precisely enough to ignite every nerve, every pulse.

Wilhelmina froze, startled at first, then melted against him, giving in to the strength and dominance of his touch. Every instinct screamed, every sense was alight.

She had never been kissed like this—so thoroughly, so possessively.

His lips trailed down the soft curve of her neck, deliberate and unyielding. She shivered as his teeth grazed the tender skin near her pulse, and a sharp gasp escaped her lips. When his tongue teased the sensitive spot, heat pooled between her legs.

“Wilhelmina,” Gerard rasped against her skin, “do you know how long I’ve wanted this? How long I’ve waited to feel you so close?”

Her body responded before her mind could catch up. Instead of stepping back, she pressed closer, as if she could anchor herself to him.

A part of her wondered where this side of him—the raw, all-consuming side—had been all this time. Always so controlled, and yet now so undeniably alive in her presence.

His hand slid to her hip, pressing her against him with an intent that made her pulse race. She exhaled sharply at the contact, feeling the undeniable heat of his desire.

“Do you feel this, Wilhelmina?” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. “Do you understand how impossible it is for me to stay away from you?”

She could only shiver in response, her hands moving instinctively, seeking him. He slowly backed her up against the sofa, and she let herself fall down, unable to resist. His other hand roamed over her body, teasing her curves with a tantalizing, deliberate touch.

“You are mine,” he murmured, his voice threaded with longing. “And I will not let a moment go by without proving it.”

Her lips parted, a soft breath escaping as her chest rose and fell in time with his. Every nerve sang with anticipation, tingling with desire, yet threaded with something more than physical—the magnetic pull between them, the impossible heat of their connection.

“Do you know”—he pressed closer—“how maddening it is to want you like this, to have to hold back?”

“I… I…” she stammered, caught between words and sensation, between self-restraint and the pull of his presence.

His dark eyes held hers, dark with both command and devotion. “You don’t need to say anything,” he said. “Just feel it.”

A shiver ran down her spine, her body quivering in anticipation, every sense alive, every thought consumed by him. Wilhelmina had never felt desire so completely entwined with the certainty of him, and it left her breathless, trembling.

“Do you trust me?” he breathed against her ear.

The need in his voice made her shiver all over, a thrilling tension rising within her. She tried to speak, but no words came out. So she nodded.

At that small gesture, his expression darkened, hunger replacing the softness of his smile.

He pressed his lips to hers again, harder this time, claiming her with a kiss that left her breathless.

Her body responded instinctively, drawn to him with a force she had never known.

Every stroke of his hands, every pull, every press, seemed to ignite a fire she could neither resist nor fully understand.

Wilhelmina began panting softly as his hand slid up her skirt, and his fingers slid further down and found her heated center. Even as she tried to muffle her moan, it managed to escape, betraying her pleasure. His touch stoked the fire inside her.

“Gerard,” she whispered, his name spilling out in a blend of desire and anxiety.

Gerard looked her in the eye. “If you tell me to stop, I will,” he promised, even though his voice had grown thick with lust.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her body quivering.

They kissed again. This time, she met his fierceness with her lips and tongue. She gasped into his mouth when she felt his fingers brush against the seam of her nether lips. On instinct, her hands gripped his shoulders, and she arched into his touch.

He chuckled his approval, his breath mingling with hers, even as his fingers teased the part of her that needed him the most.

Wilhelmina cried out when one finger traced her slit and nudged her hidden nub. He parted her folds gently, his deliberate touch making her toes curl. Her breath caught as a long, thick finger slid into her.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, being stretched deliciously. The intimacy of the act made her chest feel like bursting. All her senses focused on this moment—this moment with him.

“So wet,” Gerard groaned. “You’re so ready for me, Mina.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and a shiver ran through her at the sound of her name whispered against her skin.

Her body responded instinctively, arching slightly into his touch, every nerve alight.

The gentle circle of his thumb around her nub sent sparks through her, a delicious ache pooling low and deep, coiling tighter with each pass.

“Please.”

Who knew that she could sound so helpless?

Gerard growled against her lips as his fingers continued sliding in and out of her. He seemed to know her body, his thumb brushing over her nub over and over.

“Gerard! Oh, that—that I?—”

For the first time, Wilhelmina was utterly speechless. The woman who wrote a column to survive could not form a word.

“Let go,” Gerard crooned, nipping her neck. “Do it for me, Mina.”

It was hard to think now, with his fingers pumping steadily inside her. Each stroke was deliberate, setting her body alight.

Wilhelmina was gasping for breath now, her moans mingling with his rough grunts. He was giving it to her—pleasure—and he seemed to find pleasure in it, too.

His mouth seemed to look for something to latch on, drifting lower to the swell of her breast. He pulled down the neckline of her dress and closed his lips around her nipple. His fingers brushed a sensitive spot inside her, and he sucked on her harder.

Wilhelmina could not escape the pleasure. Her vision blurred, and she shattered, her body arching helplessly into his hand and mouth. The waves seemed endless, carrying her past all sense until she collapsed against him, trembling.

Gerard held her firmly through it, his breathing harsh, his lips still pressed to her skin as though to anchor her.

When at last her shudders subsided, he withdrew his hand and straightened his coat with the sort of composure she could not imagine mustering at that moment. His gaze lingered on her, dark and unreadable.

Wilhelmina opened her mouth, but words refused to form.

“We should go home,” Gerard murmured, his voice husky with restraint.

All she could do was nod, still dazed.

The rest passed in a blur. Somehow, they left the ballroom, and she was helped into the carriage. Gerard kept close, his presence filling every corner, but there was no more touch, no more whispered words. The silence seemed louder than the music they had left behind.

By the time they reached Talleystone House, her heart was hammering again, though from uncertainty rather than passion.

Gerard led her down the hall, his stride purposeful. At her chamber door, he stopped.

“Goodnight, Duchess,” he said, his tone not cold but too controlled, too careful. Something lingered behind it, something she could not reach.

Wilhelmina managed a faint smile, but when he turned away, confusion gripped her.

Why did he feel both near and distant at once? Why had he touched her so intimately, only to leave her at her door as though nothing had changed?

She lingered a moment before slipping inside and pressing her back against the door.

Her lips still burned from the memory of his kiss, and her body still hummed with the echo of his touch.