Page 34 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

Chapter Twenty-Five

“ A re you ready?” Hector asked eagerly.

“Oh, patience, my dear boy,” Wilhelmina replied. “You must not rush a lady.”

“So, you are back to your wayward ways?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know that it was only a jest. When I was single, my mother never allowed tardiness. My sisters and I were too afraid to displease her or our father. With Robert, I… well, I was allowed to be late. He also liked arriving a tad late just to test some people.”

Gerard’s eyes narrowed, and he looked away.

“We might miss our favorite spot in Hyde Park!” Hector complained.

“We have a favorite spot there?” Wilhelmina asked.

“Well, I was talking about the best spot there,” the boy amended, hopping about restlessly. “Papa said we might see Lady Merrifield’s peacock carriage, as well.”

“Oh, did he tell you that?” Wilhelmina drawled, glancing at Gerard.

He was already dressed and ready. His arms were folded across his chest, but his eyes had somehow softened a little.

“He can be persuasive, you know that,” he said. “He wanted a ride in the carriage, which isn’t much different from any other carriage.”

“It is special, Papa!”

“Those were just paintings on the carriage, Hector,” Gerard explained.

“I suppose he wants some illustrations on your carriage,” Wilhelmina said.

“ Our carriage, wife,” Gerard corrected softly.

“Also, you promised him the ride. Does Lady Merrifield know that such a promise exists?”

“She knows,” he reassured her. “And she likes Hector, whom I already mentioned to be quite persuasive.” He then turned to the boy. “Remember that we are only going for a promenade. We can drink lemonade and eat tarts, but we should not be plotting to steal our neighbor’s carriage.”

“I was not thinking that!” Hector protested with a slight giggle.

He then skipped down the stairs, all boyish delight, as if nothing in the world could ever trouble him.

Gerard followed with Wilhelmina at his side, their steps slower, steadier, though no less content for it.

Hyde Park had become their haunt on fine afternoons. Gerard had never thought himself a man to stroll idly among crowds, yet with his family at his side, it felt different. Almost tolerable. Even pleasant.

Sometimes Hector insisted on holding both their hands, swinging between them with reckless joy. At other times, Gerard would hoist the boy onto his shoulders so that he could see above the throng, while Wilhelmina would trail a step behind with her parasol tilted gracefully over her head.

Thursdays meant going to the theater, another habit that had cemented itself into their lives without his notice.

Hector had soon discovered that not every play was full of storms and magic, yet he absorbed them all with the same eagerness.

At home, he would recite lines with fierce concentration, staging little performances for his parents.

Gerard found himself watching with unusual patience, even pride, while Wilhelmina beamed at the boy’s earnestness. Something about the way her eyes softened made his chest ache in ways he had never expected.

Evenings, once solitary, had become unbearable without the clamor of family. Supper was no longer a quiet affair; it had turned into a ritual of sorts. Hector was overjoyed to have his father present at the table every night, peppering him with questions.

“Will you be here every night now, Papa?” he had asked with wide, earnest eyes.

“Yes.”

“Then we will be watching another play soon?”

“Yes.”

Wilhelmina was already giggling by then at how Hector was not easily frustrated by his father’s monosyllabic answers.

“Will you be joining us at the fort on Saturdays? You can help us with the new watchword.”

“I can.”

“Duke,” Wilhelmina implored.

Gerard raised an eyebrow at her. She suspected that he wanted her to call him by his name when at home. She blushed, thinking about the only time she was able to.

“Hector, I will join you at the fort when I don’t have work to do,” he promised. “However, I believe you should keep your watchwords safe. It is your responsibility as the lord of the fort.”

“Thank you, Papa.” Hector’s smile was bigger this time.

“Will you have treacle pudding at your fort?” Gerard asked.

They knew the boy had a fondness for it. One night, Miss Elliot caught him sneaking some jam to add to his pudding.

“Perhaps,” Hector replied with a grin.

After supper, they would settle by the fire, with Wilhelmina reading Hector one of his chosen adventure tales. Gerard would not be too far away, a book in hand. It was a cozy atmosphere that Wilhelmina hoped to keep.

While so many things had taken a turn for the better, the ton’s attitude toward them had not changed much. Wilhelmina could feel people watching them whenever she and Gerard entered the room.

Of course, she knew that the whispers were only about her. It was merely the way of the ton.

As for Lady Farnmont? Even after Gerard told her to leave his wife alone, she still glared daggers at them whenever she had the chance.

“Ignore Lady Farnmont,” Gerard advised one night at a musicale, offering his wife a glass of champagne. “If she tries anything, I am here. I do believe others are seeing through her hatred. They may not openly defend you, but not everyone is on her side.”

“Duke, I am capable of handling a glare or two,” Wilhelmina reassured him, patting his lapels.

He smiled at her. It was the kind of smile that reached his eyes and banished the tiredness that seemed to be etched on his face all the time.

Her husband was handsome, but this time, he dazzled her, making her heart ache.

Everything was harmonious, even at home. Gerard now checked on her every night to see how she was doing. She knew that he didn’t like pushing her into doing something she didn’t want, but it was she who was growing impatient.

That night, she could not sleep. She sat at her writing desk and started scribbling on paper. Being Lady Silverquill was no longer a matter of survival; it had become a passion.

The adjoining door creaked open, and she turned to see Gerard standing there.

“I was wondering why you were still awake.”

“What are you doing awake?” she asked in a slightly teasing tone.

“I could not sleep,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Are you writing as her?”

“As Lady Silverquill? Yes, I am.”

Wilhelmina wondered if Gerard was going to ask why she was still writing the column when she was now financially secure. He didn’t.

“You already know that I started writing as her because I needed money. After Robert died, his heir moved me to the dower house, but he was not exactly generous. I understand. He also needed to make sure that his future family would be cared for.”

Gerard nodded along.

Wilhelmina wondered if he could truly empathize with the plight of poor widows like her. Didn’t he just save her from a future of drudgery and rumors?

The rumors might persist, but still…

“It began as a necessity. I had to force myself to read letters from people I don’t particularly like. Then, it became a role. I became Lady Silverquill. She has the voice—my real voice—that I, as Wilhelmina, could never express.”

Gerard picked up one of the loose sheets to her right, the one on which the ink had just dried. He read it, chuckling as he did.

“You write very well, Mina. No wonder everyone is desperate to uncover your identity,” he praised.

She flushed with delight. “I know you resented us for publishing your son’s letter, and that you don’t like gossip sheets as a whole.”

“I don’t,” he confirmed, carefully putting back the page on her desk. “But the column seems to have helped Hector. It also helped us. We would not have met if it weren’t for it.”

It was true. They might have met elsewhere, at balls or other events, but it would not have been the same. Gerard would not have opened up the way he was doing now. However, neither pointed it out.

“It’s a secret,” Wilhelmina said softly, although she knew that he would never betray her trust, especially now that her name was linked to his.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Gerard promised, reaching out to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. His fingertips stroked her hair down to where it fell around her shoulders. “You know that your secret is safe with me, Mina.”

He’d called her by her nickname a few times now, and every time, he spoke it with subtle emotion. Which was more than enough, coming from him.

Things had changed after they had consummated their marriage, but Wilhelmina didn’t want to be presumptuous. She still waited for him to open the adjoining door and step through it.

“Goodnight, Lady Silverquill,” he whispered, planting a kiss on her hand.