Page 52 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

But the memory of Frederick was seared into her mind. His rough grip, the warmth of his breath mingling with hers, the possessive way he had pulled her close. Her skin still felt as if it burned where his hands had touched her.

“Maybe I am not so lost to the idea of affection after all,” she murmured to herself, a soft, almost mischievous smile playing on her lips.

The thought lingered. She, a spinster by all accounts, had never seriously considered marriage; the structure and obligations of a typical union had always seemed stifling. She knew that Frederick also had no desire to marry.

Perhaps they could… arrange something. Just something for themselves, away from the eyes and expectations of society. It would be wild, improper, and surely risky. Yet, the thought sent an excited rush through her that left her cheeks flushed despite the cool night.

She tried to shake the thought away, telling herself she was being reckless. Yet, as she lay there, a shiver of delicious anticipation filled her as she imagined what it would be like to feel his hands on her again, to lose herself in his embrace and forget the rest of the world.

Eventually, with her heart still pounding, she drifted off into sleep, her dreams filled with images of Frederick, his intense gaze, his strong hands and the press of his lips.

The next morning, Gemma found herself grateful for Vivian’s company, which kept her distracted from her thoughts.

They spent the day together, with Vivian introducing her to the staff and the inner workings of the estate, her presence as lively and cheerful as ever.

Over the following days, Vivian continued to welcome Gemma into her world with warmth and kindness, and Gemma found herself growing quite fond of the older woman.

But just as she felt she was finding some semblance of peace, the Dowager threw her off balance once again.

“Frederick will be joining us tomorrow,” she announced casually as they sipped tea in the drawing room.

Gemma’s heart skipped a beat. “Frederick?” she asked, trying to keep her tone calm, though she was sure her voice gave her away.

“Yes,” Vivian replied, her eyes twinkling delightedly at Gemma’s feigned attempt at neutrality. “The estate needs a little more work than I thought, and Frederick has a far better eye for those types of things than I do.”

“Oh, I see,” Gemma replied, attempting to maintain her composure as she set her teacup down, but her hands betrayed her by trembling slightly. The thought of seeing him again so soon, after the intensity of their most recent encounter, sent a ripple of impatient eagerness through her.

Vivian watched her with a raised eyebrow. “I do hope you will keep him company when I cannot, Gemma. You are good at lightening his serious moods.”

Gemma managed a nod, though inwardly her mind was racing.

Keep him company?

Just the thought of being alone with him again made her stomach jolt and twist.

The mere thought that she would see him the following day made her feel like a foolish schoolgirl, desperate to catch even a glimpse of him.

The next day dawned bright, with a slight chill in the air. By mid-morning, Gemma and Vivian found themselves in the estate’s gardens, plucking herbs and vegetables with the servants, the sunlight casting a warm glow across the vibrant greens of the plants and the neatly laid paths between the beds.

Gemma relished the chance to be outdoors, her hands busy with the cool touch and heady aroma of fresh herbs as she worked alongside Vivian.

“Here, try some of this,” Vivian handed her a sprig of mint, freshly picked. “It has such a lovely smell, does it not?”

Gemma took the sprig and breathed in its fresh, sharp scent. “Oh, it does. It reminds me of summers with my father. He used to take me to the fields where mint grew wild.”

Vivian smiled warmly, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “You know, I used to sneak out to the gardens when I was much younger,” she confessed, glancing at Gemma with a conspiratorial wink. “There were things I was not supposed to do, and plants I was told not to touch, but of course, that just made them all the more inviting.”

Gemma laughed softly, amused by the thought of a young Vivian sneaking about the gardens, likely to raise havoc wherever she went. “I think I can see that. You do not strike me as someone who likes to be told what to do.”

“Oh, indeed not,” Vivian said with a chuckle, a gleam of defiance evident in her eyes. “Age may have slowed me down, but it certainly has not dampened my spirit. And for that, I am grateful every single day.”

Gemma’s smile softened as she watched the older woman. Vivian had been a source of unexpected kindness in her life,and though they had not met that long ago, Gemma felt a deep connection with her.

“You know, I have lived quite a life, dear,” Vivian continued, her gaze distant. “I have known joy, pain and everything in between. And if I have learned one thing, it is that life should never be lived half-heartedly.”

Gemma nodded, her thoughts trailing back to her own recent revelations.

“I think I am just beginning to understand that.” she admitted, her voice quieter.

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