Page 74 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

Do not even think of calling me that, Frederick silently communicated to Gemma.

Gemma merely smirked at him, which told him all he needed to know.

As they settled by the brook, each casting a line, Andrew grinned, clearly in his element as he launched into his tales.

“So, you will love this one,” he said, leaning slightly toward Gemma and Frederick. “Just last month, I was out riding near Sedgewood, minding my own business, when I came across a very cross-looking sheep in the middle of the road. I had never seen a creature more displeased with the world. So, naturally, I tried to guide it off the path, but the thing charged at me like a bull!”

Frederick raised an eyebrow. “A charging sheep, Newfield? I am sure it was all of a mild trot.”

“No, I swear! It was like the spirit of a bull had entered its woolly body.” Andrew clutched his chest dramatically. “I barely escaped with my life. My horse got a fright, tossed me off, and bolted back down the road, leaving me to fend for myself.”

Gemma laughed, a hand to her mouth. “And here I was thinking hunting would be the only danger you faced in the countryside.”

“Oh, hunting has its own hazards,” Andrew replied with a grin. “There was the incident with the pheasant, if you will recall, Blackridge.”

Frederick chuckled, nodding. “Ah, yes, the infamous pheasant.”

Andrew leaned in, casting a sly glance towards Gemma and Vivian. “Picture this. I am poised, ready to fire at a fine bird perched in the trees, waiting for the perfect shot. I aim and I fire, only for the wretched creature to swoop down and, I swear, aim right for my head as though seeking revenge!”

The Dowager gasped, half-laughing. “Did it strike you?”

“It was close!” Andrew replied, eyes wide with mock horror. “Feathers everywhere. I may have let out a rather unmanly squeal, which our dear Freddie here has never let me live down.”

Frederick shook his head, a bemused smile playing on his lips. “If I remember correctly, you shouted something about being ‘pursued by a feathered beast of vengeance.’”

Gemma laughed heartily, her eyes gleaming with mirth. “I do not think I have ever heard of such brave and daring hunts, Lord Newfield.”

Andrew shrugged, a grin spreading across his face.

“What can I say? Some men face bears and wolves. I face cantankerous sheep and furious pheasants. No one ever warned me about the hazards of the English countryside!”

Frederick shook his head, stifling another laugh. “One day I am certain you will be famous, Newfield. The man who defended England from the invasion of the poultry.”

Andrew joined in the laughter, feigning offense. “Well, when I am a hero in the annals of country lore, you will all be begging me to tell these stories again!”

They continued fishing, laughter filling the quiet air as Andrew recounted even more of hismisadventures. From the incidentwhere he nearly fell off a cliff trying to save a lost hat to the time he convinced a neighboring lord’s prized hound to follow him home, only to be chased half a mile when the owner came looking for it. Each story grew wilder, prompting fresh rounds of laughter from his friends.

“Ah, close calls make the best memories,” he declared, attempting to pull his line in only to wobble dangerously at the edge of the bank.

“Steady there, Newfield,” Frederick said, unable to suppress a grin. “This is not the first time I have had to keep you from tumbling headfirst into a river.”

Andrew only chuckled, shrugging. “A close call is all the more memorable, my friend.”

Vivian sighed, her gaze settling contentedly on the scene playing out before her. “Fishing or hunting, I do wish the two of you could enjoy your time together more often. It is clear you are both happiest when in one another’s company.”

“I am afraid Frederick only tolerates me, Your Grace,” Andrew replied, feigning a look of distress. “But I like to think I bring out the best in him.”

Frederick gave a small chuckle. “You most certainly bring out something,” he replied, his voice warmed by his obvious affection for his friend.

They passed the rest of the afternoon in pleasant conversation and laughter, occasionally catching small fish that they released back into the stream.

The sunlight grew softer, casting a golden hue across the glen as they finally set aside their fishing rods and opened the baskets of food.

Gemma’s stomach growled.

Thankfully, the Dowager had instructed the maids to pack them a delightful array of treats. They had small sandwiches, fresh berries and sweet pastries, all carefully chosen for their outing.

As they ate, Lord Newfield leaned back, his gaze thoughtful.

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