Page 38 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“ Y ou are a hypocrite, Wilhelmina Brighton! Yes, I am going to call you that! You don’t deserve marriage, much less two!” Lady Farnmont screamed.

She was so hysterical that anyone who didn’t know what was going on might have sided with her. She believed in whatever she was saying.

Red-faced and panting, she continued, “You are a liar and a schemer. You’d been pretending not to care when you were trying to snag a better title. What would Robert think of this? And His Grace, does he even know who you really are? That you purposely ensnare lords with titles?”

Wilhelmina flinched at every accusation. She pressed her lips together tightly, biting back a few choice words.

Lady Farnmont was angry and hurt. Whatever Wilhelmina hurled at her would not make much of a difference.

“Can’t say anything to the truth, Your Grace?

So, what was it like to be Lady Silverquill and be privy to everyone’s problems, only for you to criticize them as if you were perfection itself?

” Lady Farnmont gave a bitter smile. “I cannot imagine Robert being alive to see you with someone else. His grave is not even cold yet, and you are already married to a duke!”

“We already went through this, Lady Farnmont,” Gerard warned. His large frame took up the space between the two women, effectively shielding Wilhelmina. “This is not the first time you’ve made my wife feel terrible about something that she is already mourning.”

Lady Farnmont’s eyes widened, but then she clenched her jaw, seemingly to stop herself from saying whatever else she wanted to say. She looked at husband and wife as if she were looking for a weakness.

“Ha. So this is what you wanted all along—to become a duke’s pet. I am so sorry, Your Grace, but you must ask your wife more questions if you still believe she is not at fault. That she had nothing to do with Robert’s death. It looks like you don’t know her well enough. The truth will come out.”

“Out,” Gerard bit out, gesturing toward the door.

For a moment, it looked like the woman would not leave. Her eyes were hard. Frosty. She held his gaze, sending a warning, which curiously ended with a flicker that looked like pity. Then, she turned to Wilhelmina, eyeing her with pure hatred.

Eventually, she whirled on her heels and left the room like a violent storm, the door slamming shut behind her.

Gerard wanted to hear what Wilhelmina had to say. She was standing there like a statue. It wasn’t only grief that contorted her face. She seemed anguished, tremors racking her body. Then, she broke down.

Sharp, uneven breaths escaped her lips. Gerard looked at her. There were no tears in her eyes. She was still fighting it.

“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 know the 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.

When Gerard was certain that she would not fall over, he moved further away from her, already angling for the door. His jaw clenched 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.