Page 46 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“ W ilhelmina.”

Gerard had called her name several times before, but this time it carried something different. It was not quite a plea, not quite a demand. It was closer to a prayer—tense, trembling, yet resolute.

He stepped into her bedchamber with slow, deliberate steps, and every motion spoke of a man who had wrestled with his pride and lost.

He had not crossed this threshold in many nights. Not properly. Not without holding himself at a careful distance, as though any warmth shown might betray him.

Pride had always told him that indifference was safer than hope. That if he wished for her, he must not dare to show it.

But tonight, pride felt hollow.

Wilhelmina stood by the window, her dark blonde hair a contrast to the pale sky outside.

The curtains were drawn aside, fluttering with the light evening breeze, lifting strands of hair from her shoulders.

Her posture was composed, calm, almost detached, but her eyes betrayed nothing. Blank. Unreadable.

And then she spoke.

“Duke.”

The title was sharp, deliberate. It cut through the tension in the room, and Gerard felt the sting. That single word, so formal, so distanced, was a challenge, a wall he could not ignore.

He could retreat now, walk away, and leave her alone with that cold barrier. But he would not. Not tonight.

He closed the distance slowly, cautiously, as one approaches a wary creature, yet every step carried purpose.

“Don’t call me that, Mina. Not you. Call me by my name.”

She did not flinch. Did not yield even an inch. Her calm unmoored him more than tears ever could.

“What should I call you?” she asked. “You’ve built walls to protect yourself. The best way to call you is by your title because that is how you show yourself to the world.”

In her eyes, he saw the shadows of Robert, of a past he could not erase, of a grief he could never touch. He knew her thoughts without words: wondering if he could ever fill the space left by the man she had loved.

“Mina,” he began, voice low, steady, carrying weight, “I will tear those walls down myself. Every last one. I have been a fool. A coward. I thought if I held you at a distance, I would not want what I could not have. That if I kept the Duke between us, I would protect my heart from disappointment. I never imagined it would wound you instead.”

Her gaze softened slightly, but she did not speak.

“I do not even know what love is meant to be,” he admitted, his chest tightening.

“I thought I knew once. I thought it was obedience, duty, maintaining appearances. I married Pamela when I was nineteen because my father demanded it. I was a boy then, and she… she loved another. I never tried to change that. I gave her space because it seemed the right thing to do. I tried to protect her heart from the confines of my father’s will.

But my own heart… I left it shivering. When Hector was born, I thought perhaps it would bring us together, but she could not, she would not.

And then, grief took her… grief for a man who was not me.

I found her one morning, unconscious in the rain, fevered.

She never recovered. And I—I was left alone to care for our son. ”

He drew a steadying breath, voice hardening with a mixture of regret and determination.

“I failed her. I failed Hector. I feared everything, and I built walls so high I nearly lost myself inside them. I have been overprotective, harsh even, because I promised myself he would never endure what I endured. I promised I would do better than my father and his cruel lessons. I love my son fiercely, yes, but I’ve failed to show it properly.

And perhaps, in trying to control everything, I became cold. ”

He paused. The weight of his confession hung in the air, pressing, tangible.

“Then you came. You gave Hector joy that I could not, not because I didn’t try, but because I didn’t know how.

You made him laugh. You gave him imagination, wonder, and—” He swallowed hard, the raw truth cutting through his pride.

“—you gave him love. And in giving him love, you gave me hope I had not dared to imagine.”

Wilhelmina’s lips parted slightly, a breathless question lingering there, but no words came.

“I doubted you. I hurt you. I let fear dictate my actions when I should have trusted you. And now,” he pressed, stepping closer, “I stand before you, stripped of all pretense. I am selfish. I am proud. I am stubborn, as you have said, and yet… I am yours. Not the Duke, not a name or title. Me. Gerard. I love you.”

The chamber seemed to hold its breath. Wilhelmina’s eyes widened, softened, and finally, tentatively, she reached out, her hand brushing his jaw.

He shuddered at the touch, groaning low before daring to meet her gaze again.

“You’ve muddled everything,” she whispered. Gone was the sharpness, replaced with a quiet weariness and something tender beneath. “You were arrogant. You disbelieved me, even when I told you truths that should have been enough.”

“Yes.” His voice was thick, guttural, stripped of the masks he had worn all his life. “I was wrong. I see it now. I made a mess of what could have been the simplest thing.”

Her hand lingered against his jaw, and for the first time in years, Gerard allowed himself to simply be with her. Vulnerable, exposed, yet unshakably present. He had faced the world, a soldier of expectations and grief, and now he faced the only thing more terrifying: hope.

“Do you remember how I agreed to this marriage because of Hector? I was also thinking of myself. I wanted to be safe from people like Lady Farnmont. All that talk about who I am, who I was, my first marriage—it must have gotten to you like a punch to the gut.”

Pain flickered in his eyes. He knew her pain. He had even thought himself her savior. But that was his pride talking. It was wrong of him to think that he had saved her without her doing the same for him.

“But even through the confusion—yours and mine—I realized that Talleystone could not be the same without you. And when I left for Elizabeth’s, I could not help but carry Talleystone with me as if it had become a part of me or I’d become a part of it,” she continued, her fingers tracing his jaw.

“Forgive me, Mina,” Gerard breathed, leaning his cheek into her touch.

“Not so quickly,” she said. “Grovel some more.”

His eyebrows flew up in surprise, but he saw the mischief in her gaze.

Was she finally back? The wife he’d grown to love?

He huffed a laugh, relief coursing through his veins. His heart was full of something different now. Something akin to joy. Very close but still cautious.

“You are merciless,” he praised, his hand closing over the one resting on his face. “Mina, I was wrong. I almost destroyed the one good thing in my life, which is my family. You and Hector. Forgive me, Wilhelmina. Forgive me, my wife.”

She blinked rapidly and whispered, “Very well, then. I believe you’ve begged enough.”