Page 4 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching voices. Gemma’s body became rigid as the conversation outside the library doors grew louder. Her eyes darted around the room as panic flooded her.

Before she could react, the door creaked open. Gemma’s breath caught and she pressed herself into the armchair’s backrest, hoping against hope that whoever entered would not notice her.

Two men walked into the room, deep in conversation. Their voices were low, but there was an unmistakable air of authority in them.

One, a tall man with dark hair and a severe expression, appeared to be leading the discussion, while the other—a shorter, somewhat pudgy man—nodded along enthusiastically.

“…and the Duke insists on keeping the matter quiet,” the dark-haired man said as he strode over to the fireplace and lit a small fire in the grate. His voice was crisp and commanding. “He does not want the ton gossiping about it. You know how they can be.”

The other man laughed, a short, nervous chuckle. “Indeed, indeed. Best to keep such things within the estate.”

Gemma’s heart leapt.

The Duke?

She was in a duke’s estate? She swallowed hard, her mind racing.

What if this duke is cruel and callous, with no compassion for a stray woman hiding in his library?

The men continued their conversation, oblivious to her presence. Gemma slowly inched behind the armchair and tried to make herself as small as possible. The last thing she needed was to be discovered by these men, especially now, when her escape was so fresh.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the two men left the library, their voices fading down the hallway.

Gemma let out a shaky breath and leaned against the chair, her body trembling. She was safe for now, but how long could she hide in this majestic estate before someone found her?

Gemma crouched low in the shadows of the library, her breath shallow as she listened intently to another muffled conversation just outside the door. Her pulse raced and her muscles tensed in anticipation of being discovered. The heavy wood of the door functioned as a buffer, distorting the voices, but she could still make out snippets of their discussion.

“…the Duke will not tolerate any more delays,” one of the voices remarked in a deep and commanding tone. “If these families desire his favor, they will have no choice but to send over theirdaughters. He has already turned away three prospective ladies this season alone.”

A nervous laugh followed. “Can you blame them? Who would willingly offer their daughter up to marryhim? The rumors alone would frighten any sensible girl into finding another match.”

Gemma’s heart thudded in her chest.

Who is this duke of whom they speak?

Gemma pressed herself against a desk behind her, its wooden edge biting into her shoulder blades as she strained to listen.

The voices continued, growing quieter as they moved further away from the corridor behind the door. She could only make out fragments of their conversation as they talked about the Duke’s wealth, his dealings with powerful families, and the endless string of potential brides he had rejected.

“…the last one ran back to her father in tears after meeting him,” the second man said, his tone filled with disdain. “Cannot say I blame her. They say he is cold, unfeeling, and insufferable. No one knows what he is looking for, but they are all desperate enough to try. The title, the wealth… to many of them it is worth the risk.”

Their conversation slowly faded into silence, but the atmosphere of unease they had left behind lingered in Gemma’s mind. Shelet out a slow, shaky breath, her heart still racing as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard.

A duke, here in this estate… cold and unfeeling, with desperate brides flocking to him? What kind of place have I stumbled into?

Gemma realized that she needed to leave the premises immediately. Hiding in the Duke’s library was only a temporary solution. She needed to find somewhere safe, perhaps the stables or a shed on the grounds, anywhere that would offer her shelter for the night.

But the library… it was warm, comforting, and so much cozier than the cold, barren cell in which she had been confined for so long at the convent.

Her muscles ached from her journey and her body screamed for rest. Her eyes darted toward the low fire still burning in the large stone fireplace. The flames had dwindled to mere embers that cast a faint orange glow across the room.

It was so peaceful, so inviting.

Maybe I can just rest here for a short while. I will be careful. I will not remain here long, just enough to regain my strength.

Gemma creeped noiselessly toward the fireplace. Her knees ached and her legs wobbled slightly as the exhaustion from her journey caught up with her.

She reached the hearth and sank into the chair that sat beside it, the cushions soft and welcoming beneath her. A wave of relief washed over her as the warmth of the fire seeped into her chilled skin.

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