Page 56 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

She gave a little nod, her gaze steady. “I shall do my best not to be in your way, Your Grace.”

There was something teasing in her tone and he felt the corners of his mouth involuntarily move upward.

His grandmother, ever observant, chuckled softly, seemingly pleased with herself.

“Ah, I see you two are getting on splendidly,” Vivian remarked, reaching for another scone. “It is as I had hoped.”

Frederick raised a brow. “Oh? And what exactly did you hope for, Grandmother?”

She merely shrugged, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips. “Oh, that you might enjoy a pleasant day together. It seems tome that both of you could do with a bit of fresh air. Frederick, you have been much too serious of late. I believe some light company might be just the thing.”

Gemma glanced down at her tea, trying to hide a smile, but he caught it and felt his own mirth rising in spite of himself. His grandmother was every bit the cunning orchestrator, he realized, and her matchmaking was almost laughably obvious.

“Well, as usual, your wisdom knows no bounds,” Frederick replied with a trace of dry amusement, though he was careful not to let his gaze linger on Gemma for too long. “Perhaps I have underestimated you.”

Vivian merely chuckled. “My dear grandson. You havealwaysunderestimated me.”

The Dowager turned to Gemma. “He was a lively child, always testing the boundaries of propriety,” she said fondly. “I recall he once tried to catch a fox in the gardens simply because he thought it would make a fine companion. His grandfather nearly had a fit.”

Frederick’s lips quirked in a smile, picturing the scene. “That sounds like him,” he admitted. “He always did have a tendency to, ah, take matters into his own hands.”

Vivian nodded, her eyes twinkling. “He did indeed. I see much of him in you, Frederick. You have the same passion, even if you are more controlled about it.”

He snorted lightly, glancing over at Gemma. “Control has its uses.”

Gemma met his gaze with a mildly challenging expression. “I suppose it does. But sometimes a little recklessness can lead to unexpected opportunities.”

Frederick felt his pulse quicken at her words, his mind flashing back to the library, where recklessness had indeed created a charged, and unforgettable opportunity.

As they had finished their tea, Vivian looked at them both with a touch of pride, clearly satisfied.

“Well, I suppose I should leave you two to your day. Frederick, remember to be gracious to the tenants; they are loyal to me, and I would wish for them to be as loyal to you.”

Frederick nodded, already anticipating the day ahead with curiosity and intrigue.

“I shall do my best, Grandmother,” he said.

Gemma rose, smoothing her skirts, and offered Vivian a gentle smile. “Thank you for the tea, Your Grace. And for the lovely roses.”

As he made his way out of the room with Gemma, Frederick felt a thrill of anticipation, wondering just what the day held in store for them.

The boundaries between them were still unclear, but for once, he didn’t feel the urge to keep his distance.

After a short carriage ride they arrived in the village, a quaint collection of thatched-roof cottages clustered around a small green, with a stone church at its center.

Frederick noticed Gemma take it all in with a keen eye, her gaze settling appreciatively on the sturdy little buildings and the rows of homespun goods displayed by local vendors.

“It is beautiful,” she murmured, her eyes gleaming as she looked around. “There is life here…a sense of community that feels… rare.”

“It is a good village,” Frederick agreed, glancing around with quiet pride. “The people here are loyal to my family. Most have been tenants for generations.”

They walked further down the street, nodding to villagers who greeted them with polite deference.

Near the edge of the green, a woman in a worn but clean apron and tired eyes stepped forward, balancing a toddler on her hip. She curtsied awkwardly before Frederick, her face both hesitant and hopeful at once.

“Your Grace,” she began, her voice quivering slightly. “My name is Mary Winslow. I do not mean to be bold, but I heard you might be visiting today, and I hoped…well, I prayed…I might have a chance to speak with you.”

Frederick gestured for her to continue, noticing Gemma watching the woman with an encouraging smile.

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