Page 43 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

Chapter Thirty-Four

“ Y ou’re here!” Hector squealed.

Three days later, Wilhelmina returned. She had barely set foot in Talleystone House when he bolted toward her.

It wasn’t a hug, but a lunge. The force of his enthusiasm nearly knocked her off her feet. As for her, she was nearly in tears, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him close. She kissed his forehead and stroked his hair.

“I’ve missed you, my darling,” she croaked.

“Please don’t leave us again. It was so dreadful not having you here, Lady Mina,” Hector said, pulling free from her hug just so he could grin at her.

He was missing another of his front teeth. Gerard managed to keep it for him, thankful that he didn’t dismiss his son when he ran toward him with what he considered to be a matter of life and death.

“I will try my best, sweetheart,” Wilhelmina promised with a chuckle, straightening. “I did notice that you are missing one more baby tooth. You’re a big boy now, eh?”

Gerard could only watch from a distance. He didn’t think she would like him up close at that moment, not when he had pushed her away because of his fears.

Samuel was right. Perhaps he had been ignoring the happiness that had finally been served on a silver platter.To him. To Hector.

At the moment, though, Wilhelmina’s attention was solely focused on Hector. Not that it was bad. Gerard liked the fact that she truly cared for his son. Another stepmother would not be as generous with her time and affections. But her eyes never drifted to him, never searched for his.

Therefore, he let the chasm between them grow and grow until it became suffocating. He had already lost her, anyway.

“Do you think people will know if I am not breathing in this thing?” Wilhelmina asked, smoothing the skirts of her gown.

She was feeling a little self-conscious about the new fit. It looked wonderful in the mirror, but it felt so constricting. Or perhaps she was just acutely aware of everything.

Even the beautiful silk gloves felt like they were scratching her skin. And that could not be further from the truth. The material was specially sourced for its softness.

“You’ll breathe,” Gerard said softly, glancing down at her as they entered the Emersons’ grand hall. His arm felt too heavy and stiff around her.

“Mhm. So commanding,” she said dryly, raising an eyebrow at him.

Wilhelmina guessed that she just had to take whatever it was between them. Hector seemed happy enough with this arrangement.

“Oh, you know that it’s necessary in events like this,” Gerard muttered, his jaw clenched so tight that she wondered if his teeth hurt.

She almost giggled at the thought.

They descended the steps and into the hall. It was almost as if they had never fought.

“We are not quite as early as we hoped,” Wilhelmina remarked.

The party was indeed in full swing; only two more names were announced after them.

“We don’t need to be early for these things. We just have to be here,” Gerard said.

She understood him well enough. After her brief stay with her sister, their return together was a quiet declaration: their marriage remained unshaken.

Violins swelled, the grand piano answering in turn, and as they stepped into the room, the music seemed to wrap around them like a vow. The sweetness of it pressed upon her, almost too tender, almost too solemn.

Wilhelmina was not a shy woman, but she didn’t like the attention either. After the fight with Gerard, she felt just like how she did before. It was as if everyone could read through her, see her for who she truly was—an outsider.

Tonight, she wore a particularly fashionable gown. It stood out from the silks and lace that surrounded them. She wondered if it was a good choice for a dress, as heads turned wherever they went.

“There they are,” a lady nearby murmured.

Wilhelmina could never believe the audacity of some people. Some believed they were perfect enough to judge anyone they didn’t know much about.

“The Duke and Duchess of Talleystone,” another lady whispered to her friend.

But Wilhelmina heard the unspoken words. “Look at them. People are talking about them.”

“They did well in their first charity event, though,” a gentleman commented. “I was there. It was a success?—”

“Is that true?” a third lady interrupted.

Soon, the conversations started buzzing in Wilhelmina’s head. The words blended with the music around them.

“Your Grace,” Lady March said, fanning herself, “the amount that was raised at your charity event is most impressive. Your skill can certainly not be ignored this time. Don’t you think?”

“I would not have succeeded if not for the efforts of everyone who came,” Wilhelmina said softly, feeling a blush bloom in her cheeks. “I am most thankful to everyone who gave me a chance.”

She felt Gerard’s eyes on her. She could swear he looked proud. At least, the small smile on his lips suggested so. But it could be anything. After all, they were trying to look like a happy couple. So why shouldn’t he be smiling?

Still, the congratulations from every corner coaxed a genuine smile from her. She could not help it. Her twin sisters were also there, undoubtedly getting acquainted with more people.

“Oh, of course it was a massive accomplishment,” Lady Farnmont drawled, her voice dripping with saccharine venom.

Every word clung to Wilhelmina’s ears like honey over glass, sickly sweet yet jagged beneath the surface.

Her chest tightened. Lady Farnmont had already tried to break her once, yet here she was, renewed and unrelenting, draped in emerald-green satin and an unnervingly serene smile.

Green for envy , Wilhelmina noted bitterly, suppressing the urge to grit her teeth.

Most of the time, Wilhelmina had liked green, but not on this woman. Not on the woman who had made it her mission to haunt her life, to use her grief like a weapon.

Lord Farnmont lingered behind his wife, a silent shade, as if drapery could match the tension in the room.

Everyone said he was obsessed, but Wilhelmina now understood that it went beyond mere fascination.

He never questioned her, never restrained her venomous displays, even when it strayed into the lives of others.

She straightened her spine, forcing a polite smile. “Lady Farnmont,” she said, each syllable measured, deliberate.

Civility was a mask she could wear, even under the weight of such malice.

“You sound too formal for what we’ve become,” Lady Farnmont countered, her eyes glinting as they swept the room like a general inspecting her troops. “We are a family, after all. Aren’t we?”

Wilhelmina’s jaw stiffened, but she didn’t flinch. She could feel the gaze of the crowd crawling over her, eager for scandal, drinking in the venomous display as if it were the main course of the evening.

“It’s good to see you try for once to look like you care about Society, Your Grace.

Now that you are a duchess, you are trying to be part of the ton.

Officially. How very proper. You seem to have forgotten what you and Robert used to say.

Rebels, weren’t you? Or perhaps it was you who dragged him down to your level?

He could never see how you schemed to succeed.

You didn’t even have the grace to be a good wife back then. ”

Every utterance of Robert’s name struck Wilhelmina like a whip. She could feel the tight knot in her stomach, the sharp sting at her chest.

He had been her closest friend, her confidant, the one who had let her breathe in a world that never gave her space to do so. She wasn’t in love with him, nor was he with her, but he had been everything else that mattered at a time when no one else had.

“Robert was kind, but he had his own mind,” Wilhelmina said, steadying her voice against the tremor she felt in her throat. “He would not have wanted to be like everyone else.”

Lady Farnmont’s eyes narrowed slightly, her grin flickering. “Would he really? You think he would have been content that you forgot him so quickly and recast his memory?”

Gerard stepped forward, his presence a sharp edge. “We’ve spoken of this before, Lady Farnmont,” he said, his voice cutting through the room like steel.

The woman only laughed, the sound high and brittle.

“He belonged with me! Do you hear that, Your Grace? With me. Not with you! We had an understanding, but your ambitious family and your clever manipulations stole him away! It was your false innocence, your facade of virtue, that lured him, and I?—”

Wilhelmina’s fingers tightened at her sides.

The crowd murmured, eyes darting between the two, but the words—Robert’s name again, used like a dagger—made her stomach churn. She felt tears threatening, a flush of anger and sorrow twisting together, and yet she remained upright, silent, vigilant.

“You are sorely mistaken, Lady Farnmont,” Wilhelmina finally said, her voice cold and precise, honed by years of knowing exactly how to measure her words.

Her hands trembled, but no one would know. She had spent a lifetime taming the fires inside her; tonight was no exception.

“You schemed to catch Robert’s attention,” Lady Farnmont spat, venom seeping into every syllable. “You did the same with your Duke husband! What next? Marry a prince? Or a king? I cannot understand how any man would choose you over me!”

Wilhelmina inhaled sharply. She did not flinch, did not allow the woman’s malice to pierce her facade. She knew her worth. Beauty had been a commodity, yes, but intellect and strength of will—these were hers, unassailable.

Then Lord Farnmont, who had remained largely a shadow until now, moved.

Wilhelmina caught the subtle shift: his jaw tightened, fists clenching at his sides. His usual mildness was gone. His eyes were dark, focused, molten with a simmering rage.

“No, darling,” he said, the words low but cutting, dripping with menace.

A chill slid down Wilhelmina’s spine. She had never seen him like this. Not ever. The polite Viscount of society, gentle at home, now all gone. Replaced by something raw and dangerous.

“He was never yours,” he continued, voice like a blade. “Even if he had lived to witness your failings, he would still have never been yours. You would never have had him. Never.”

Gasps echoed through the room. Wilhelmina’s hand flew to her chest. Her pulse hammered as she glanced at Gerard, whose steady presence at her side was a lifeline. Heat and fear mingled in her veins.

“W-Why?” Lady Farnmont stammered, her voice cracking.

Wilhelmina’s heart froze as the next words fell from Lord Farnmont’s lips.

“Because I killed him.”

The room seemed to collapse inward. The chandeliers hung heavy above, glittering like shards of frozen light. Music stopped mid-strain. Wilhelmina felt as though the walls themselves were closing in. Her stomach twisted, a cold tide washing over her chest.

“K-Killed him?” Lady Farnmont’s voice faltered, her precious fan clattering to the floor.

“Yes,” he repeated, each word deliberate, heavy. “I killed Lord Slyham.”

Wilhelmina’s mind struggled to grasp the enormity of it. Robert, the man who had been her closest friend, her secret confidante, the one whose name had been used as a weapon against her, was killed by this man right here. This man, who moved and mingled in the ton right under her nose.

She wanted to recoil, to scream, to rush forward and shake the truth from him. Instead, she froze, every nerve alight. The room was a furnace of whispers, horrified gasps, and stunned silence. Eyes darted, mouths parted, hands clutched to chests.

And in the midst of it all, Gerard’s hand found hers.

“Say it again,” Gerard commanded, his voice low, steady, impossibly fierce.

Wilhelmina felt the tension in his body, the rigid lines of his shoulders, the slight tremor of controlled fury. She clung to his presence like a lifeline, letting his strength anchor her in the storm.

“I killed him,” Lord Farnmont said again, the words like a hammer, echoing in every corner of the ballroom.

“I was sick of hearing his name! Sick of your obsession! Even after we had our children, you compared me to him! You breathed his name as if it were a prayer, over and over, until it haunted me!”

Whispers erupted into cries. Someone sobbed.

Wilhelmina’s throat tightened, a cold lump forming that made it hard to draw breath.

Her knees threatened to give way, but Gerard’s grip on her arm kept her upright.

Every beat of her heart hammered with grief, shock, and a visceral, raw anger she had never felt in her life.

He had taken Robert from this world. All because of sick jealousy.

The world seemed unreal, as though the chandeliers and gilded walls were part of a tableau meant to torture her. She drew in a shaky breath, pressing closer to Gerard, needing him, needing something solid amidst the chaos.

“You…” Lady Farnmont gasped, pale as porcelain.

Wilhelmina barely registered her rival’s terror. The truth had shattered the room.

The masquerade of civility, the polite murmurs of the ton, even the self-righteous malice of Lady Farnmont…none of it mattered now. Only the terrible, unflinching reality of what had happened pressed down, suffocating, impossible to ignore.