Page 45 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

She did not seem fazed. “I wish I could apologize without guile, Your Grace, but I cannot. I know you have Gemma Bradford here, so I ask you to return the problem child to the nunnery and I will never come by your house again.”

“She is not here,” Frederick said tightly. “As I told you when you came the first time. Please leave, and if you dare return, I will have you arrested.”

Her lips flattened into a thin bloodless line, “You would have a nun arrested?”

“If I had my choice, I would have had your whole convent arrested and your priory shut down for the death of mysister,” Frederick’s voice was a snarl. “You have a lot of self-righteous pomposity for someone whose godly house murdered an innocent girl.”

Sister Agnes paled. “I do not know what you mean, Your Grace.”

“Of course you do not,” Frederick rounded his desk, “And even if that poor girl was here, the hounds of hell would have to drag me away before I would agree to return her to your Satan’s den of horrors. Now, for the last time, leave my home or I will have you carried out by force.”

The nun scowled. “I will leave but I must warn you, that girl will lead you to your grave. She is not to be trusted.”

“I find it ironic how you see the devil in others, but you do not see it in yourselves,” Frederick replied. “You caused an innocent girl, who made one mistake, to die under yourtendercare without explanation to the family. Yet, you still have the gall to hold your head above others. Let me ask you, Sister Agnes, what did the good Lord mean when he said,he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone?”

The nun’s expression turned even more mulish. “I will see myself out.”

“And do not come by again.” Frederick warned.

CHAPTER 17

The following morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Blackridge Manor and cast soft, golden light across its sprawling grounds. The storm had passed, leaving the air crisp and the sky clear.

Gemma descended the grand staircase, her footsteps echoing softly against the polished wood. Despite the beauty of the day, a pang of sadness was lodged in her heart.

Today would be her last day at Blackridge Manor.

Gemma slowed as she neared the breakfast hall and took a deep, ragged breath to compose herself. She did not know what to expect after the charged moment she and Frederick had recently shared in the library.

The memory of his body pressed against hers, the warmth of his breath, and the intense way in which he had regarded her flashed through her mind.

Stepping into the room, Gemma paused. Frederick was already there, sitting at the long dining table with a newspaper in his hands.

He glanced up briefly as she entered the room, then wordlessly returned his attention to the paper.

The looming silence was thick and awkward.

Gemma swallowed uncomfortably, her fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress as she moved toward the table. She took a seat across from him, trying not to fidget.

The awkward silence stretched and grew heavier with each passing second. She sensed his every movement, every rustle of the newspaper and each breath he took but neither of them spoke.

Just when the silence had become nearly unbearable, the door opened and Vivian entered, her cane tapping lightly against the floor as she made her way to the table.

“Good morning, my dears!” Vivian greeted them cheerily, her eyes sparkling with her usual mischief. “What a lovely day it is after all that dreadful weather. I trust you both slept well?”

Gemma offered a polite smile. “Yes, thank you, Your Grace.”

Frederick merely grunted in response, lowering his newspaper but keeping his gaze fixed on it. The Dowager, as always, seemed unbothered by his cold demeanor.

“Well,” Vivian continued, taking her seat with a soft sigh, “since the storm has passed, I imagine the time has come to discuss what will happen next.”

Gemma’s heart sank slightly at the reminder. She’d known this moment was coming. It was improper for her to remain a guest of Blackridge Manor now that the storm had cleared. She wasn’t family, nor was she engaged to Frederick. Staying any longer would raise eyebrows amongst the ton, even if nothing untoward had taken place between them.

But still, the thought of leaving left her feeling strangely empty. She had enjoyed her time here, despite everything. Even the tension with Frederick had felt… alive, waking something in her she hadn’t felt in a long time.

As if sensing her thoughts, Vivian turned her sharp gaze on Gemma. “I have been thinking, dear,” she began, her tone casual but with an air of authority. “It would, of course, not be proper for you to remain here much longer. A young lady staying in a bachelor’s home for no particular reason tends to stir up needless gossip.”

Frederick’s jaw tightened slightly, though he remained silent.

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