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“However,” Vivian continued, her eyes gleaming with an idea, “I would like to offer you a place at my own estate as mylady’s companion. It is a perfectly respectable arrangement, and I could use some bright company. Besides, it is closer to several northern estates and villages, so you will not be too far away from society.”

Gemma blinked in surprise, unprepared to receive such a kind offer. The Dowager’s estate was about two hours away from Blackridge Manor. It was a generous proposition, and it would save her from having to return to her former life. Still, something about it felt… orchestrated.

Vivian smiled kindly at Gemma. “I see enormous potential in you, my dear. You would be a welcome addition to my household.”

Frederick frowned deeply at this, his dark eyes moving from Vivian to Gemma. His lips pressed into a tight line, as if he disapproved of the idea but couldn’t quite find the words to object.

After a long, tense pause, he finally nodded stiffly.

“It is the proper thing to do,” he said quietly, though there was no warmth in his tone.

Gemma hesitated, unsure how to feel. The idea of staying with the Dowager was tempting. She had grown fond of the older woman’s sharp wit and keen intelligence, and it would give her a chance to remain close to Blackridge, even if Frederick wasn’t particularly thrilled by the arrangement. But the uncertaintyof it all—the unclear dynamics between her and Frederick, the potential for more tension—made her feel uneasy.

“I would be honored, Your Grace,” Gemma said finally, forcing a smile. “Thank you.”

Vivian beamed at her. “Wonderful! It is settled, then. We shall leave tomorrow. I will have the carriage prepared.”

There was a pause, and then Vivian’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she added, “Of course, Frederick, you are welcome to visit us anytime. I have no doubt that you will check on us regularly.”

Gemma felt a flicker of hope at her suggestion, her heart quickening slightly.

Would Frederick visit? Was there a chance that this strange, simmering connection between them could develop into something more?

Frederick, however, only nodded curtly, his expression as closed off as ever.

“I am sure I will,” he said, though his voice lacked any real conviction.

With that, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“I have work to deal with,” he muttered, his tone dismissive.

Without another glance in Gemma’s direction, he strode out of the room, his boots echoing down the hallway as he disappeared from sight.

Gemma remained seated as emotions churned inside of her. Disappointment, frustration and longing took turns invading her heart. It was all quite exhausting.

She had hoped… well, she wasn’t sure what she had hoped for. Perhaps a sign from him, a hint that he felt something for her, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

But instead, he had simply left.

Vivian, sensing Gemma’s mood, reached out and patted her hand gently. “Do not fret, dear,” she said softly. “Frederick is… complicated. He needs time to sort through his emotions.”

Gemma forced another smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I am not sure he has any emotions to sort through.”

Vivian chuckled softly. “Oh, he does, trust me. He just keeps them deeply buried. But I know my grandson. He is more affected by you than he lets on.”

Gemma glanced at the door where Frederick had disappeared, her heart heavy with uncertainty.

“I hope you are right,” she said quietly.

Vivian’s eyes twinkled again and she graced Gemma with a reassuring smile. “I am always right, my dear. Now, why do we not make the most of our last day here before we head to my estate? There is nothing like a good walk through the gardens to clear the mind.”

Gemma nodded, although her thoughts were far from clear. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her time with Frederick was not over, even if he was determined to push her away.

As she stood up to follow the Dowager out of the dining room, Gemma glanced one last time at Frederick’s empty chair, her heart whispering a quiet hope that this wouldn’t be the end.

The Dowager Duchess’ estate, Greenwood Hall, was a sprawling, elegant manor with ivy-clad walls and large windows that allowed sunlight to stream into its vast rooms. The gardens were breathtaking, full of winding paths, rose bushes and perfectly trimmed hedges.

Life at Greenwood Hall was a welcome change for Gemma. Unlike the strict confines of the convent or the stifling formality of other households, Greenwood Hall felt like a place where she could breathe. Every day was filled with leisurely breakfasts in the sunlit dining room, afternoon walks in the gardens, and evenings spent by the fire with a book or engaged in lively conversations with Vivian.