Page 76

They paused near the fountain, watching the ripples of water that sparkled in the evening light. It was a rare, serene moment, one that Gemma knew she would always cherish.

Their collective peace was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps on the gravel path. Both women turned to see Frederick and Andrew walking from the house, each looking slightly windblown from the evening air.

“Ah, just in time for dinner,” Vivian said with a pleased smile, raising an eyebrow at her grandson. “Frederick, I was not expecting youandLord Newfield.”

Frederick inclined his head with a faint smile, his gaze flicking to Gemma briefly before he responded. “We thought we might join you, Grandmother, if you do not mind. And of course, Miss Bradford.”

Andrew gave them both a warm smile. “What can I say? Frederick promised a fine meal, and I am here to make sure he lives up to that promise.”

Gemma, surprised but pleased, returned his smile. “Well, I certainly hope he does.”

Frederick’s gaze lingered on her, and his expression softened. “Only the best for our guests.”

As they all made their way inside, Gemma felt her heart lift. The gentle companionship of the day had left her feeling at peace and Gemma’s thoughts circled back to what Vivian had said.

For the first time she wondered if, between the laughter and the friendship, there could be more to come if she allowed it.

The dining room of the Duchess’ estate was filled with laughter and conversation, the firelight casting a warm glow over the table as the evening progressed.

Yet Frederick barely noticed any of it.

He nodded absently at his grandmother and Andrew, making polite conversation when required, but his attention kept straying to Gemma, seated across the table next to his grandmother. Her laughter, and her smile. Each gesture seemed more magnetic than the last, and his attention felt inescapably drawn to her.

Every so often Gemma would look his way, and when their eyes met, there was a fleeting, charged connection, an understanding they both seemed reluctant to acknowledge in words.

To Vivian’s delight, Frederick had insisted on joining them for dinner that evening. The previous day’s luncheon had been tense and Gemma had kept to herself, surrounded as she was by the attentions of others.

She now seemed equally absorbed in her conversation with Vivian and her occasional exchanges with Andrew.

As if sensing his silent frustration, Andrew grinned over his glass of wine.

“Frederick,” Andrew said, leaning closer, “you have been very pensive this evening. Is something weighing on your mind?”

Frederick shook his head, trying to pull himself back to the present.

“Not at all,” he replied smoothly, though he caught the quirk of Andrew’s brow and the unspoken disbelief in his friend’s eyes.

From across the table, Gemma turned her amused gaze to him.

“Perhaps, Your Grace,” she began, her voice holding a playful edge, “you are simply in need of some fresh company. Perhaps your present circle has become stale to you.”

Frederick chuckled, masking his surprise. “I am quite content with the company,” he replied, meeting her gaze.

The words were evasive, but he could see the understanding in her eyes. There was so much left unsaid between them; a pull that neither one of them appeared ready to explore.

Vivian caught their exchange and a pleased, knowing smile washed across her features as she sipped her wine.

“Content with the company, indeed,” she murmured with a satisfied smile. “Why, I do not know what you two would have done this summer without each other. A distraction is essential in a season of such… idle pursuits, after all.”

Gemma laughed and her gaze lightened. “Your companionship has certainly made this time memorable,” she replied, her words directed to Vivian, although her gaze briefly lingered on Frederick.

The dinner continued, although Frederick’s uncertain, undefined, and confused thoughts continued to complicate his feelings for her.

He had known from the beginning that they both wanted freedom and independence. However, in spite of that knowledge, a steady, insistent worry had developed inside of him that grew larger with each passing day.

What would she do once the season was over? Where did she intend to go? Would she be forced to return to the confines of a world that had already treated her so unjustly?

The ceaseless worries gnawed at him. The thought of her uncertain future—that the joy she had finally found could be snatched away from her in an instant, and she would once again become lost. He knew he had to do something, but he couldn’t bring himself to discuss it with her, not yet. He wasn’t even sure what he would say if he tried.