Page 9 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

As for the twins, Lady Grisham had placed Daphne beside Lord Alcott and Victoria beside Lord Bertram—a move Wilhelmina suspected was strategic. Seated behind her mother, she had a clear view of the entire performance and could monitor her mother’s moves.

“Mina, what do you make of Bertram?” Daniel whispered, though his gaze was fixed on the quartet.

“He seems the type to smile while murdering kittens,” Wilhelmina muttered dryly. “Or perhaps he enjoys chasing widows because he believes they are more pliable.”

Daniel chuckled softly. “And Lord Alcott?”

“He counts his coins in his sleep,” she said bluntly. “He surveys every bauble in the room. Conversation is likely a burden for him.”

His eyes widened in mock alarm.

“Did I get that one right?” she asked.

“So far, yes. Though I am less confident about the kitten-murdering accusation,” he said with a faint smirk. “And Welles?”

“He talks excessively and fancies himself clever. Among these three, he is the last man I would consider. Not that I am currently seeking a husband.”

“You are impossible,” Daniel whispered with an affectionate shake of his head. “No man is perfect, Mina. Robert, for instance, was exceptional, though?—”

Wilhelmina allowed a flicker of emotion to pass over her face, fleeting but enough to remind her that she had not yet moved past her grief.

“Oh,” Daniel breathed, “I apologize. I will say no more. Not tonight.” He paused. “You know they will never stop speculating about whether you will marry again.”

“Then they do not know me at all,” she replied, her voice softening as the music swelled around them.

The violins and cello blended in an intricate dance, echoing through the room and wrapping her in an almost dreamlike serenity.

She glanced at her sisters. Daphne was ever attentive and composed, while Victoria was rolling her eyes at the ceiling.

Wilhelmina smiled faintly; she could not help but think of their mother’s never-ending schemes.

“Mother is already plotting them into wedlock,” she whispered.

“Really? Do you think she would dare?” Daniel asked, his eyebrow arched.

“Of course. She is relentless. She may even push me before I am ready.”

“Mhm. She does not know how to stop.”

“She never will. I suspect she seethes over my lack of children to mold into the next diamond or most eligible bachelor.”

“You handled your Seasons well,” Daniel said, his voice betraying a hint of admiration. “You were?—”

“You can say it. Sometimes it still stings, but yes, I was fortunate to have met Robert.”

“Yes, you were. He was a good man, and you are… formidable.”

“It is the gown, Daniel. It imbues me with invincibility.” She let out a soft giggle.

Lady Grisham turned her head and fixed her with a glare, but Wilhelmina only allowed herself a private chuckle, her shoulders heaving slightly in amusement.

A short recess allowed the musicians to regroup, and the next piece began. Wilhelmina tried to focus on the performance, appreciating the skill and harmony, yet she found herself distracted by the intricacies of the social dance around her.

She had been absent from public life for a year; now, the rooms of Society felt simultaneously enchanting and suffocating.

Polite applause rippled through the audience as the piece concluded, mingling with praise. Wilhelmina allowed herself a quiet breath of relief, grateful for the momentary pause from social expectation.

Lady Grisham made it her duty to turn around and watch her oldest daughter. “You aren’t applauding them. Lord Hensley had done his utmost best to organize this musicale.”

“It’s a performance. You’ll hear me at my loudest after the finale,” Wilhelmina replied, not knowing what the fuss was about.

“Still ever charming, are you not, Lady Slyham?” Lady Grisham asked sarcastically, before turning back to face the quartet.

“And you’re still trying to undermine that charm,” Wilhelmina mumbled.

Daniel snorted quietly. “You need a reward for all the things you have to put up with,” he whispered.

“If only you knew what it’s like to be a woman, Daniel. You’d understand better. Perhaps I need a drink. I am, after all, no longer a debutante. I am supposed to be an experienced widow.”

The next piece was played. Wilhelmina expected more of the same, although she truly appreciated how well the quartet was playing. What she didn’t like was the fact that Lord Bertram, aged thirty, thought it wise to lean closer to Victoria.

Her feisty sister shrank back, and that was telling a lot.

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes at the man. “I may have to murder that man. Why are you friends with him, Daniel?”

“We are in public. And we are not friends. We are business associates.”

“Mhm. You’ll have to help me, then. I’m not exactly subtle.”

“I believe there are other ways to deal with lecherous men,” Daniel said calmly.

“So, you do agree that he is lecherous?”

“Perhaps not lecherous, but definitely inappropriate.” He didn’t sound so convinced.

“Ah, I can tell you are about to agree with me,” she said, as her brother’s body stiffened when he saw Lord Bertram moving again.

This time, Victoria openly swatted him and placed her fan between them, the hard edge pointing at his rib.

“I will have a word with him.” Daniel clenched his jaw.

Things seemed to have smoothed a little in the front row, as Victoria had made it clear that nobody should ever try anything untoward if they wanted to leave unscathed.

Another piece ended.

Lady Grisham clapped with exaggerated poise, head up, neck extended, back straight. She glanced back at Wilhelmina, who could not even pretend to be enthused. “Again, please consider being more agreeable.”

“I might consider moving to Italy or Scotland,” Wilhelmina retorted.

“You would miss us, darling.”

“Not enough, Mother. And if it’s Scotland, Lizzie will find a way to have everyone reunite.”

The intermission began, and Lord Welles used it as an excuse to offer Wilhelmina a drink. This time, she took it with a thank you and a gracious nod.

“Lady Slyham,” he began. “Do you find musicales dreary or entertaining? I could not help but see a bit of your interaction with your mother.”

“Oh, it depends on whether you are planning to talk through the second half, My Lord,” she replied with a small smile.

Lord Welles almost choked on his drink. “Duly noted, My Lady.”

Daniel leaned over to his sister and said in a low voice, “Since you aren’t eager to remarry, we can at least raise funds by putting your wit and sarcasm in little bottles.”

“Do you think that would work?” she asked, mock hopefully.

Wilhelmina had to admit she was somehow enjoying herself. They returned to their seats as their host announced that the quartet would resume playing.

The twins obediently sat in the front row once more.

Wilhelmina could not help but smile with pride whenever she saw them. They looked so alike, but acted so differently. She hoped that the men who wanted to woo them would realize that they were not just novelties. They were completely different people.

Daphne looked like a dream of lace and tiny pearls in her pink and white dress, while Victoria had tied a black ribbon around her waist to accentuate the purple of her dress.

“How about I faint, so we can skip the rest of the musicale?” Wilhelmina asked Daniel.

He sighed. “From what I know, you don’t want to draw attention. So, that may be a terrible idea. We both know it.”

“You’re right.”

“Stop whispering, Wilhelmina,” Lady Grisham hissed. “It’s unbecoming of a dowager.”

“What must a dowager do? Most of the ones I know are old and have the right to whisper as much as they please. Have you seen the Dowager Duchess of?—”

“ Mina ,” Daniel warned, even though he looked red from stifling his laughter.

“Apologies,” Wilhelmina whispered. “The quartet is doing wonderfully. I just have not been out in Society for a while.”

She realized that she was right. There was still that numb feeling in her chest. When she gave in to the music, she was able to breathe.

The melody unfurled like a living thing, beginning low, tender as a whisper, before swelling into a soaring crescendo. On the surface, it was silken, graceful. But deep inside, it carried a quiet sorrow that throbbed in every note.

It was Wilhelmina herself who made the sound—composed, restrained, but aching within.

For a fleeting minute, she allowed herself the gift of feeling . With her eyes closed, she surrendered to the darkness, letting it press her closer to the music’s embrace. The notes bore her up and drew her down by turns, a tide that both carried and consumed her.

And then it was gone.

Applause shattered the spell, breaking against her like cold air. The musicians stepped forward to bow, and all around her, the audience began to rise.

“Well done!” Lady Grisham praised, brushing invisible lint from her dress. “Come, girls. Let us approach our hosts to thank them for such a wonderful evening.”

“Must we do that, Mother?” Victoria complained, acting as if she’d faint anytime.

“Yes,” Lady Grisham hissed.

“I find myself in rare agreement with Mother,” Wilhelmina chimed in, “Call it penance for your beauty, or a tax levied on us for enjoying ourselves too much.”

Victoria rolled her eyes, but ended up smiling anyway.

They went to their host and hostess to express their gratitude. Wilhelmina was truly thankful, so exchanging pleasantries was not much of a problem. It also helped her avoid her brother’s business associates. She didn’t want to answer any more questions about whether she was planning to remarry.

“You survived the evening!” Daniel declared.

“Barely. And it’s not because of the people, but because of the music,” she scoffed.

“Will you attend the Hawthorne ball next week? I believe there are more social gatherings coming up, but the ball is next, I believe.”

“I will need support, Daniel. You know that,” she said softly.

“We will be there, Mina.”

That was all she needed to hear. She would have to be at the Hawthorne ball, anyway, and any other social gathering wherein she had to help the Duke of Talleystone.

The end of the musicale brought back thoughts of the Duke.

Where is he? Has he even attended this evening?

Lady Grisham, undeterred by the end of the performance, was still speaking with Lord Alcott, her charm on full display.

“She does not relent,” Wilhelmina murmured to Daniel. “The music is over, yet she is still performing. She will not forget what Lord Alcott hinted at earlier.”

“The matter of you remarrying?”

“Yes. And I have no wish to remarry.”

“Then don’t,” Daniel replied simply, with a shrug.

Wilhelmina turned to him, incredulous. “Do you think it’s as simple as that?”

“You are strong and independent, Wilhelmina. You have no need for a husband. You have already proved you can inspire devotion; Robert adored you.”

Her lips pressed together. The problem was that what she and Robert had shared was not the sort of love her family imagined.

A partnership, yes. Security, yes.

But love?

For a fleeting moment, she wondered whether she had, without even noticing, already abandoned the hope of ever knowing such a thing.