Page 37 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

For a moment their eyes met and Gemma felt her pulse quicken. The atmosphere between them was as electric as the storm raging outside. They were close, too close, and Gemma knew if she didn’t say something to break the moment, she might do something she couldn’t take back.

Frederick stepped back before she could speak, his mask of cold detachment fixed firmly in place.

“I shall leave you to it,” he said abruptly as he turned on his heel and departed the library without uttering another word.

CHAPTER 14

“Where is Her Grace?” Gemma asked, her heart pounding.

Several rainy days later, Gemma was summoned to one of the sitting rooms by a footman, his message vague but urgent.

She had rushed down the hallway, her mind racing, imagining the worst. Had something happened to Vivian? Had the storm caused some damage to the estate?

When she arrived at the sitting room she found Frederick already there, his face a mask of concern. He was standing by the door, glancing around the room as if looking for someone.

“I was told she fainted,” Frederick replied, his voice tight.

He glanced at the door again as though expecting his grandmother to appear at any moment.

Just as they were about to leave and search for her there came a resoundingclick.

Frederick’s expression immediately grew dark. He stormed to the door and rattled the handle but the door did not budge.

It was locked.

“She has locked us in,” Frederick growled, and he slammed his fist against the heavy oak. “Grandmother!”

Gemma couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped from her mouth. It was absurd, really, the lengths to which the Dowager Duchess was going to keep them together. She looked around the room, spotting a tray of fine treats and a blanket spread before the roaring fire.

“Well, even though she has locked us in, I must admit that she did it with style,” Gemma remarked dryly, gesturing to the cozy set up.

Frederick shot her a withering look, but she could see the corner of his mouth twitching, as though he was trying not to smile. “This isnotfunny.”

“No, it is not,” she agreed, while straining to suppress her growing mirth at the situation. “But itisclever.”

Frederick muttered something under his breath and resumed banging on the door, his frustration growing with every unanswered pound.

Gemma began searching for another way out, but it was clear that Vivian had thought of everything. The windows were locked and the key was nowhere to be found.

After a few moments, Frederick gave up on the door and sank into one of the chairs by the fire, his jaw tight with barely contained anger.

Gemma sat across from him, still smiling despite the ridiculousness of their dilemma.

“You have to admit,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “she is quite determined.”

Frederick glared at her darkly. “She does not know when to stop,” he muttered.

Gemma held his gaze, feeling the tension between them rising once again.

As she sat down in the armchair beside him, Frederick turned toward her, his eyes narrowing.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Gemma shrugged, trying to keep her voice light, though she felt her own irritation creeping in. “What does it look like I am doing? I am sitting. We are clearly not getting out of this room anytime soon, so we may as well make the best of it.”

Frederick’s brow furrowed. “The best of it?” he said incredulously.

“Yes,” she replied with a small smile, gesturing to the luxurious room. “Look around. We are locked in a room with a roaring fire, a tray of the finest sweets, and velvet armchairs that are probably more comfortable than anything you have in your study. We could be stuck in far worse places.”

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