Page 38 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke (Vows of Sin #4)
Five Years Later
It was another perfect day.
The sun shone brightly over the sprawling gardens of Blackridge, and luminous white clouds drifted lazily across the bright blue sky. The breeze was fresh and sweet with the scent of blooming roses and the distant warble of birdsong.
Gemma sat upon a soft blanket beneath the shade of a large, old oak tree while her children played nearby.
Her eldest daughter, Charlotte, was the first to take a few unsteady steps, her small hands reaching for her father. Frederick’s smile was wide and proud as he crouched down, waiting for her to toddle toward him. Charlotte, with her black hair and striking blue eyes, was a miniature version of her father.
As she reached him, Frederick scooped her up, lifting her into the air with a delighted laugh.
“You are getting so big,” he said, his voice filled with wonder.
Gemma smiled softly, her heart full as she watched the two of them. There was no doubt in her mind that Charlotte had inherited her father’s strong and steady nature. She was already a determined little thing, and Gemma could see the intelligence that sparkled in her inquisitive eyes.
Not far from them, their second child, Henry, was also making his first attempts at walking. He had the same curly brown hair as Gemma and the same curious, wide-eyed look that she had worn as a child. His small hands reached for her as he tried to balance on his wobbly legs, giving Gemma a proud smile before tumbling into her arms.
“You are my brave boy,” Gemma whispered, brushing a lock of hair from his face as she hugged him close. Henry cooed happily in her arms, his small fingers curling around her finger.
Nestled in Gemma’s lap was their youngest, James; a soft, warm bundle swaddled in a light blanket. His dark brown hair was already showing signs of a curl, much like Frederick’s, and his wide, inquisitive eyes looked up at Gemma as if trying to take in everything around him.
He was only a few weeks old, a perfect addition to their family, and a symbol of their enduring love.
Elizabeth, who was now comfortably settled into her own life, was sitting nearby with her husband, Andrew. Their son Adam was just starting to pull himself up, struggling to stand with the help of a low table, his small hands gripping it tightly.
Adam looked a great deal like his father, with tousled hair and a mischievous gleam in his eye. Beside them, their daughter Lily slept peacefully in Elizabeth’s arms, her tiny features still soft and angelic.
Vivian was close by, chatting with Elizabeth while playfully tossing a ball to the children. She laughed warmly as Charlotte and Adam both scrambled to catch it, their little hands reaching out eagerly, and Gemma couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
Her grandmother-in-law had embraced this new phase of life so fully. Her eyes shone delightedly as she doted on the children, her laughter filling the air. She was a grandmother to them all, nurturing, guiding, and always surrounding them with unconditional love.
Gemma leaned back, content, as her family basked in the sunshine. She watched as Charlotte and Adam played together, their giggles high and carefree, while Henry crawled after them with determination, his little legs moving rapidly.
Her gaze drifted to Elizabeth and Andrew, who shared an easy conversation, their hands intertwined as they spoke with the intimacy of a couple who had truly found their place in the world.
Gemma turned her attention to Frederick, who had just returned with a letter in his hand after a quick trip to the house. His tall form loomed over her like a pillar of strength, his presence as comforting as always.
He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her cheek, his lips lingering for a moment.
“How are you today?” Gemma asked, meeting his eyes with a soft smile.
Frederick’s gaze flickered briefly toward their children, his eyes softening with affection. “I am well,” he said, his voice calm but filled with the joy of the moment. “But I bring you a letter.”
Gemma raised an eyebrow as he handed her the letter. “From whom?”
“Peter,” Frederick replied, his tone warm but tinged with an undercurrent of something more somber. “He is well, and has written to tell me about recent events in his life.”
Gemma took the letter, feeling a pang of affection for Peter. It had been five years since their wedding, and five years since Frederick’s sister, Helen, had been honored at their celebration. Gemma could still remember the soft sadness in Peter’s eyes as he had stood in the shadows, his quiet grief a reminder of the love he had lost. She wondered how he was doing now.
She opened the letter, her eyes scanning the words as Frederick knelt beside her, leaning in to read over her shoulder. Peter’s writing was neat and careful, filled with updates about his life since he had last seen them.
“Peter is now married?” Gemma asked in surprise, glancing at Frederick. “And he has a child?”
Frederick nodded. “Yes. He married a lovely woman a few months ago. I have met her, and she is a good match for him. They have a little girl now.” He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “He is happy, Gemma, I can see that. He has finally moved on.”
Gemma squeezed his hand gently, her heart aching a little for Peter. “That is good to hear. I hope he has found peace.”
Frederick nodded again, his voice quieter this time. “He will never forget Helen. He still visits her grave every year on the anniversary of her death. But he is happy now, in his own way.”
Gemma’s eyes softened with understanding. “I am glad for him. He deserves it, even if it is a different kind of happiness.”
Frederick placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “We all carry our grief with us, but we move forward. And Peter is doing that. He has found someone to love again.”
Gemma smiled softly. “He will always have her memory in his heart. But life, as it always does, continues.”
A brief silence passed between them as they both turned their gaze to their children, playing and laughing in the garden, their innocence and joy filling the air. Their laughter was like music, and Gemma felt her heart swell as she watched them. They had built something beautiful together, something that went beyond all the hardship and the losses they had endured.
“Life is good, is it not?” Gemma whispered, leaning her head against Frederick’s shoulder.
“It is,” He replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And I could not have asked for anything more than this.”
The warmth of the sun kissed their skin, and Gemma felt a sense of peace surrounding her.
And, as the evening drew near, the family gathered close, with the children in their arms, and the sound of contented chatter filling the air. The gardens were alive with color—with life—and with the promise of more to come.
Gemma leaned into Frederick, her lips brushing against his as they shared one more kiss that was sweet, soft, and full of promise.
The End.