Page 7 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

“You responded publicly to a child’s letter,” he continued, adopting the monotone his father had taught him, meant to reinforce authority.

“He needed someone,” she murmured softly, her fire dimming just slightly.

“My son has me. If I had not been a good father, do you think he would have come willingly? I know w—” He stopped himself.

He would reveal nothing of his childhood. The lady was sharp, and her pen was sharper.

“You need not be so strict with him,” she advised, her voice calm. “Do not keep your distance. If you cannot answer a question or make a promise, tell him so. A parent need not be a god.”

“I did not ask for advice, My Lady,” he gritted out, taking a careful step closer, “especially from a tongue like yours.”

She did not flinch, nor did she retreat. Her gaze held his, unyielding, and he realized she could not be intimidated.

“A tongue like mine?” she scoffed.

“A tongue that will get you into trouble.”

She tilted her chin up. “Do I seem like I shudder in the face of a little trouble, Your Grace?”

His pulse quickened, a mixture of irritation and… something more coursing through him.

His eyes strayed to her lips. Full, naturally a deep pink, slightly parted, catching the light of the lamp. Her cheeks were flushed from the evening chill. He scowled at himself, chastising his own audacity, and stepped back, forcing composure.

Just then, the door burst open, and the source of all his worry that day bounded in.

“Has she agreed to help you, Papa?” Hector asked eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Out this very minute,” Gerard ordered, and regretted it immediately.

Lady Silverquill had just accused him of being distant and strict. He had just proven her right.

“You are a boy. This is not your concern,” he said, more softly.

“It is!” Hector insisted. “It’s all I think about! I want you to be happy!”

Gerard froze.

Did he truly look that miserable? It was one thing for the world to think he was lonely, because they could all go to hell, but it was another thing for his son to truly believe that he was living in despair.

The boy was feeling too much, listening for the sounds and the silence.

Too much. It was too much for a child his age.

“It is true, Your Grace,” Lady Slyham said calmly. “Lord Hector is only trying to be helpful.”

“You’re encouraging his mischief,” Gerard accused sharply. “Do you realize what could have happened if he had climbed into the wrong carriage?” The thought of the hackney driver, careless though he might be, was preferable to imagining a criminal preying on a child. “This must end immediately.”

“You are right. Something could have happened. Yet I believe Lord Hector would obey if he knew you were working toward his happiness, which is also yours. Isn’t that so, Lord Hector?” Lady Slyham added, winking at the boy.

“Yes!” Hector gushed, delighted.

“Perhaps there is another way,” Lady Slyham continued.

“And what could that possibly be?” Gerard asked, skeptical.

“A compromise,” Lady Slyham whispered, raising a hand to stop Hector from rushing forward. Her voice dropped low, meant for Gerard alone, and her velvety tone sent a warm tingle down his spine. “I will help you, while you pretend to let me. We need only reassure him that you are trying something.”

“You really think that will work?” Gerard asked, surprised at how eager he was to trust her. “I do not appreciate strangers meddling in my affairs.”

She raised an elegant eyebrow. “Everyone knows your business now. If that was damaging to your reputation, we can take steps to turn it around as well.”

“What are you two talking about?” Hector asked, growing impatient.

“I will help your father find a suitable match,” Lady Slyham announced brightly.

“That sounds wonderful, My Lady!” Hector exclaimed, practically glowing with excitement.

Gerard felt a pang in his chest at seeing his son so happy.

Could he ever be ready for marriage again?

“And if we do not find a match?” he murmured.

“Lord Hector, listen carefully,” Lady Slyham began, her voice gentle but firm. “Your father may not find a match at all. That is sometimes how things are. But we can make sure that the two of you are thoroughly entertained along the way.”

“That sounds splendid, Papa!” Hector said, nodding eagerly.

A sigh escaped Gerard’s lips before he turned to the woman. “And will you attend the upcoming Hawthorne ball, Lady Slyham?” he asked, realizing they had to start soon.

“I will,” she replied.

“Very well. We begin there, then continue our little arrangement for a month, no longer.”

“A month?” she asked, tilting her head. “We could extend it, if it means spending time with Lord Hector and doing what he enjoys.”

Hector squealed in delight and ran to her, wrapping his small arms around her waist. To Gerard’s surprise, his son then ran to him, throwing himself into his arms.

At first, Gerard held him stiffly, like marble, then softened, gently patting his back.

He inwardly groaned. Yes, his boy needed a mother, and he could not provide one.

The governess’s soft voice called a cue for bedtime. “Come along, Lord Hector. It is time for bed.”

Hector groaned dramatically. “But we were just planning?—”

“Now, My Lord,” she interrupted firmly.

“Very well,” he relented, pouting dramatically before following her. “Goodnight, Papa! Goodnight, Lady Sil—ahem, Lady Slyham!”

Gerard noticed a bit of color draining from Lady Slyham’s face at his son’s slip-up, but she quickly regained her composure.

“I believe that is all for tonight. Goodnight, Your Grace,” she murmured.

Gerard nodded, and she took it as permission to leave.

Even as she left, he remained where he was, unsettled, too aware of her presence.

Too distracted by thoughts of his son and this spirited woman to retire just yet.