Page 68 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

That was precisely the problem. He didn’t need or want any part of the constant distraction.

Wanting her meant being vulnerable, tethered and bound to a society he’d learned to detest since his sister’s death.

Yet here he was, at the earl’s blasted ball.

“Would you care to dance, Miss Bradford?” Frederick asked. As he extended his hand towards her, he was surprised by how right the prospect of dancing with her felt.

“I would be honored, Your Grace,” she said. Her soft smile grew as she placed her hand in his.

As the music began and they stepped onto the dance floor, Frederick felt the resurrection of the chemistry between them.

The dance forced him to draw her close, his hand resting just above her waist as he effortlessly guided her through the steps. They moved in silence at first, his eyes on her face while she carefully watched her feet.

“Frederick,” she murmured, breaking the stillness, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “You do not need to be so… cautious, you know. Just because we… the other night.” A hearty blush spread from Gemma’s chest to her face.

“Gemma… I want you to know that I do not regret it. In fact, I have thought of little else. But I do not wish to see you placed into an uncomfortable position.”

Gemma chuckled softly, meeting his gaze with an arch of her brow. “An uncomfortable position? Frederick, I am a spinster with little regard for society’s expectations. I have no reputation left to save, only my life to live as I choose. What we do in private,” she said, her gaze playful and direct, “is between us alone.”

Her forthrightness sent a wave of exhilaration through him, as if a dam had broken. Although he seldom did in these settings, he found himself smiling with relief.

Gemma was different from every other woman he knew; fearless, candid and fiercely independent. Her words were a refreshing reminder that there were still people willing to defy convention, willing to do as they pleased, despite the watchful eyes of society.

The dance continued, the initial tension between them softening as they moved together with an ease that surprised and inspired him.

“You are remarkably unbothered by these gatherings,” he said, with genuine curiosity. “I have spent most of my life finding them unbearably tedious.”

Gemma laughed, a quiet sound just for him. “Oh, theyaretedious, believe me. But they are also… illuminating, in their own way. The ton may be superficial, but it also has its purpose. Traditions like these may be frivolous, but they help hold the entire fabric of society together, especially for those who care for such things.”

He nodded, hearing the sense in her words. “Perhaps. I will admit, I do not have much patience for all of this after… after what happened to Helen.”

“I completely understand,” she said gently as she looked at him with genuine empathy.

Her acknowledgment of the ton’s behavior in the aftermath of his sister’s death forced him to look away while he struggled to compose himself, but Gemma’s gaze remained firm and grounded him to a degree that he hadn’t expected.

They continued to dance, this time in comfortable silence, their earlier awkwardness replaced with a soothing sense of companionship.

As the music drew to a close, Frederick found himself reluctant to release her hand. He guided her to the edge of the dance floor and they lingered there, watching the other dancers twirl and glide in their decorative splendor.

“Would you care for a walk, Miss Bradford?” he asked quietly.

She smiled at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I would be delighted, Your Grace.”

They wandered away from the ballroom and into the adjoining rooms, which held smaller gatherings of guests in quiet conversation or observing paintings and decor.

As they passed a young lord engrossed in boasting about his latest hunting exploits, Gemma leaned in with a grin, her voice low.

“I daresay the rabbits had little chance escaping his prowess,” she whispered, her eyes alight with amusement.

Frederick snorted and bit back a laugh, marveling at her ability to balance humor with kindness. It was rare to find someone who could poke fun without malice, who was charming without pretense.

As they strolled through the manor, Frederick found himself wondering if he could ever truly be satisfied by anyone else after her.

When they returned to the main hall, Frederick felt a twinge of disappointment. He’d spent much of the evening getting lost in their conversations and the way she seemed to light up the dim corridors through which they had strolled.

“Thank you for the dance, Frederick,” Gemma said, her tone light but her eyes reflecting the depth of their exchange.

Frederick took her hand and briefly brushed his thumb across her fingers in a subtle but heartfelt gesture of appreciation.

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