Page 5 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

For a moment she allowed herself not to think about the dangers lurking outside the door, the mysterious Duke, and the men who were plotting to marry off unwilling brides.

Here, in the stillness of the library, she could almost pretend that she was just another guest at the estate, resting after a long day.

Gemma reached for a book on the side table, its cover worn from years of use. She opened it and began to read by the faint light of the fire, her eyes scanning the delicate print. The words blurred together and although she tried to focus, her mind kept drifting back to the conversations she had overheard.

Gemma was too tired to dwell on it for long. Her body sagged more deeply into the chair as her eyelids grew heavy. She fought to stay awake by reminding herself that falling asleep would be unsafe. As she turned the pages of the book, the fire’s warmth and the comfortable chair lulled her into a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in years.

Just a little longer… just a few minutes more…

She reached for another book, her fingers trembling slightly from fatigue, and nestled it in her lap. She tried to immerse herself in the story, but the words swam before her tired eyes.

It had been so long since she’d had the luxury of reading for pleasure, of simply sitting in peace without fear of punishment.

Gemma allowed herself to dream for a moment and imagine a life beyond the convent, away from the constant dread of punishment. She imagined a life where she could be free to read, to explore and to live without the walls closing in around her.

Her thoughts were abruptly shattered by a deep, commanding voice that cut through the quiet of the library like a knife.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in here?”

Gemma jumped with shock, her heart leaping into her throat as she spun around in her chair. The book slipped from her lap and hit the floor with a soft thud.

Standing in the doorway was a tall and broad-shouldered man, his dark hair framing a face that was both striking and intimidating. His cold and piercing eyes bore into her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

He took a step forward, his expression unreadable as he scrutinized her with deep suspicion.

“I asked you a question. Who are you?”

Gemma’s pulse raced and she scrambled to her feet, instinctively backing away from the imposing figure. She tried to find theright words, any explanation that might save her from whatever wrath this man might unleash upon her.

“I—I am sorry,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “I did not mean to?—”

His gaze swept over her, taking in her disheveled appearance, the bruises on her knees and the exhaustion etched into her features. For a second, something like pity flickered in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“You should not be here,” he said in a voice filled with disapproval. “This is the Duke’s library.”

Gemma swallowed hard, her throat dry.

What can I possibly say to save myself?

CHAPTER 3

BLACKRIDGE HALL, CUMBRIA

“You will pay for this, Grandmother,” Frederick Wyndham, the Duke of Blackridge, muttered under his breath. “Mark my words.”

Frederick glared at the person responsible for his current misery—his grandmother, the Dowager Duchess Vivian Wyndham.

She stood with perfect poise, smiling sweetly at the collection of guests as if she had not just orchestrated this elaborate charade to trap him into finding a wife. Her snowy hair was arranged in a neat, regal bun, and her gown was a touch too lavish for her age, but she was every bit the image of a noble matriarch.

“I am sure I do not understand what you mean, my boy,” she whispered back, unfazed by his dark mood, then turned back to the guests with a soft chuckle.

She raised her glass to one of the eligible young ladies, nodding in approval as the girl stammered through her conversation with an older gentleman beside her.

Frederick ground his teeth together, his fingers tightening into fists. He had expressly told his grandmother that he wanted no part of these matchmaking schemes, yet here he was again, surrounded by the most eligible ladies from across the north of England.

Conversation buzzed around him, ladies tittering behind fans, and gentlemen discussing matters of little interest to him.

His patience, thin as it was to begin with, was quickly unraveling.

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