Page 35 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

“Why did you not name him Romulus?”

Frederick grinned and chuckled. “Romulus eventually killed his twin brother, so my sympathies lay with Remus and not him.”

She laughed at his unexpected reasoning and shook her head as she smiled to herself.

They both looked up in anticipation as steaming, aromatic plates of pheasant pie were placed in front of them and their glasses were filled with ruby red wine.

The storm rattled the manor’s windows and made the chandelier tremble, but did not affect the light and warmth that emanated from both of them.

“If you wish to keep gardening and caring for the roses, you are free to do so,” he said cutting into his pie. “It might give you better memories of planting than the ones the convent provided.”

After spearing a good-sized chunk of meat, he held it out to Remus and rubbed his ears after he gobbled it up. “Miss Bradford, you were quite young when your mother sent you to the convent. I must ask, what became of your parents?”

I cannot tell him.

“It was so long ago that I hardly remember my father,” she said quietly.

“Why were you sent there?” he asked. “I find it hard to believe that a seven-year-old child could do anything serious enough to cause them to be interned there.”

“My father… He was not particularly good with financial matters,” she replied looking down at the plate. “After he passed, there was no one to take care of me. I suppose it was to make sure I stayed alive.”

A large rumble made him turn his head to the window before he turned back to her. “Do you remember where you lived before the nunnery?”

“No,” she shook her head, her voice small. “Can we please not speak of it any longer? I…I would rather we did not continue this line of conversation, Your Grace.”

Acceding to her request, Frederick set the remainder of his questions aside for the time being. He could not shake the feeling that he was only getting half-truths from her, but the girl had gone through hell for years; he could allow her to keep some of her secrets.

“I apologize for pushing you,” he said.

She gave him a slight smile, then ate her meal as the storm raged on.

Gemma put down her fork. “Tell me more about your work. How do you go about making investments?”

His brows lifted at the unexpected question. “It starts with determining whether or not they are offering something that has value to the general public. Let me see if I can put it into simplerterms. What if someone offered up one hundred boats so that farmers could ship their produce down a river to a neighboring town. Would you think that is an innovative idea?”

“I would,” she replied. “It would be easier than using animals.”

“It would be, indeed,” he replied, setting his utensils down and moving his empty plate away from him.. “One hundred boats are good, but what if another provider sayshecan offer a ship which can carrymoreproduce than one hundred boats combinedandarrive sooner? Would you see that as a better choice?”

Gemma nodded, “Yes.”

“Then you think of the other factors, such as how easily a fleet of one hundred boats can become damaged, and the cost of repairs versus how much it would cost to repair a single ship. You also have to consider labor, upkeep cost, the constant flow of business from the farms, and other factors.”

She considered his words. “Farmers have seasons. In the off season, could that ship not be used to transport other goods… perhaps products from stone masons or iron workers and the mines?”

He felt oddly pleased at her deductions. “Exactly. That way you are still earning money from your investment in the ship.”

Sitting back, he rubbed Remus’s ears. “You have not touched your wine.”

“I am not used to it,” she admitted reaching for the glass and taking a sip. “It is very strong.”

“I will admit, it is an acquired taste,” Frederick agreed. “You do not have to drink it all now.”

She took another mouthful and then set the glass back on the table. Her gaze turned to the windows. “It does not appear as though the storm will stop tonight, does it?”

“I do not believe that it will,” Frederick turned to the window.

“I think I would like to retire early this evening,” Gemma said.

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