Page 55
Story: A Sinful Virgin for the Duke
Maybe he had scared her off. Maybe she’d want nothing more to do with him.
Frederick scowled at his own thoughts, frustrated by the mere idea of never seeing Gemma again.
“Good afternoon, Grandmother, Miss Bradford,” he greeted as he stood up and offered them a bow.
Gemma was still standing in the doorway beside his grandmother, a small bundle of freshly cut roses in her hand. She was smiling softly, her cheeks flushed from the garden air.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace. I trust that your journey here was comfortable,” she responded.
He fought to maintain his composure as he entered the room, but despite his best efforts, his gaze was unwillingly drawn toher. It took every bit of restraint to keep himself from staring outright.
Gemma moved gracefully into the room, placing the roses in a small vase on the table. Her fingers brushed over the petals and he found himself envying those delicate blooms, wishing he could reach out and she would touch him in the same way.
Instead, he forced himself to sit rigidly as his grandmother settled into her chair and began pouring the tea, her eyes bright with what he instantly recognized as another devious plot unfolding.
“Um, yes. It was all right, Miss Bradford,” he finally mustered a reply.
Gemma took a seat beside Vivian, glancing at him before she quickly looked away to focus on the scones set before them.
Frederick clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of their unfinished business lingering between them.
“You know, Gemma has proven herself to be quite the asset here on the estate,” Vivian began conversationally, passing her a plate. “She has shared some of her skills in gardening and animal husbandry, which I must say, Frederick, could be rather useful to you today.”
Frederick’s brow rose in surprise. “Oh?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. “And how, precisely, could Miss Bradford be useful?”
He caught a flicker of amusement in his grandmother’s eyes as she took a sip of her tea. “Well, as I mentioned in my letter, I would like you to introduce yourself to some of my tenants. It is time they knew you better, and I thought it prudent that they feel comfortable with you before any inheritance matters arise. And as for Gemma, she has an easy charm and a keen understanding of the land and its workings—qualities I believe would serve you well in making a positive impression.”
“Are you implying I do not possess the knowledge of the land and its workings?” Frederick raised an eyebrow.
“Not at all my boy. I meant to imply you have no easy charm,” she replied matter-of-factly, sipping her tea once more.
Frederick heard Gemma cough lightly into her tea. It wasn’t a cough exactly—rather a stifled chuckle.
Gemma sipped from her tea. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’m all right,” she merely said.
Frederick scoffed. He knew he wasn’t the most charming of lords but he could handle meeting some tenants on his own.
Before he could response, his grandmother went on, “The tenant will see Miss Bradford as someone who understands their lives and their challenges—a trait they might find refreshingly approachable. It would make the visit feel less…transactional.”
“I wasn’t aware this was to be a group endeavor,” Frederick replied, his voice edged with dry humor.
Vivian’s expression remained serene. “Consider it an exercise in partnership. After all, every good landlord needs someone to remind him of the human element.”
“Very well,” Frederick replied, feeling a faint tug of suspicion. “Still, you have managed this estate splendidly for years, Grandmother. Why the sudden urgency?”
The Dowager raised an eyebrow, setting her teacup down with a gentle clink. “The future is uncertain, Frederick. It is wise to make provisions while one is still able. I want to be sure my tenants feel acquainted with you, not just as the Duke of Blackridge, but as my grandson. Now is as good a time as any.”
Frederick’s gaze narrowed, still unconvinced. “You are faring quite well, are you not?”
“Perfectly,” Vivian answered smoothly. “But I have always been the sort to plan ahead. And besides, with Gemma here, I imagine she might make the task a bit… more enjoyable.”
He cast a glance toward Gemma, who sat quietly beside Vivian, meeting his gaze with a faint smile that he couldn’t quite decipher.
He felt a sudden urge to test her to see if that fire he’d glimpsed in her was still there. But instead, he tempered his expression, knowing his grandmother would notice any unusual reaction.
“Well then,” he said slowly, “if you wish for me to play the charming Duke, I shall certainly oblige.” He turned his attention to Gemma, who was watching him intently. “It seems, Miss Bradford, that you and I will be spending the day together.”
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