Page 82 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

Without another glance at him, she turned on her heel and stormed out, her steps echoing through the hall. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, but she forced herself to keep going, refusing to look back, even though she heard Vivian calling after her.

When she reached the footman at the front door, her voice was steely and unyielding. “Have my belongings sent from the Duchess’ estate. I will be departing with my mother tomorrow morning.”

The footman nodded, taken aback by the determination in her voice, but Gemma didn’t wait for a response. She swept past him, her head held high, unwilling to let anyone see the cracks that were beginning to form in her cold facade.

Feeling the late afternoon air chill her skin, she could no longer ignore the painful ache in her heart, and the undeniable truth that pressed down on her.

Once again, she was alone.

CHAPTER 30

The fire in the hearth had dimmed to a quiet glow in Frederick’s study.

He sat alone, one hand resting on a glass of brandy he barely tasted, the other clenched in frustration on the arm of his chair.

The events of the evening replayed in his mind. Gemma’s resolute silence at dinner, the haunted look in her eyes, and the way her shoulders had trembled as she hugged his grandmother under the cold, moonlit sky.

She had looked so fragile, yet remained steadfast in her decision to leave, refusing even his grandmother’s pleas to reconsider.

His heart clenched painfully at the memory and he tried to block it out. Gemma’s belongings had arrived earlier, confirming what she’d already made clear. She was leaving with her mother in the morning.

He had tried to speak with her after dinner by cornering her outside the dining room, but she’d simply given him a hard, unyielding stare. The only words she spoke were soft. “I’ll be retiring early. We have a long journey in the morning.”

Frederick lifted the glass of brandy to his lips, though he barely registered its warmth as it ran down his throat.

He wanted to believe she’d come to her senses, that she’d realize she did not want to return to living under her mother’s icy rule, that he could somehow convince her that he hadn’t intended to drive her away. However, he knew the truth. She was hurt, and he had been the cause.

The sound of soft footsteps echoed in the corridor outside his study, halting him mid-thought. His pulse quickened as he held his breath, hoping against all odds that it was Gemma finally willing to speak with him. Maybe she’d come to tell him she didn’t truly want to leave, that there was a part of her that needed him as much as he now realized he needed her.

But his hope crumbled when the door burst open and his grandmother stormed into the room, her cane tapping sharply against the floor, her gaze fierce and unforgiving.

“Frederick Wyndham,” she said angrily, “what on earth do you think you are doing?”

He sank back, sighing heavily. “Good evening to you as well, Grandmother,” he muttered, though he knew his feigned indifference wouldn’t fool her. He set his glass down, hisexpression darkening as he braced himself for the lecture that was sure to follow.

His grandmother’s eyes narrowed, and she let the door click shut behind her. She approached him, the room’s shadows sharpening the lines of her face as she gave him a look that would have sent a lesser man fleeing.

“Donot‘good evening’ me,” she snapped, the venom in her voice making him flinch. “I have been disappointed with you many times in my life, Frederick, but never like this.”

Her words stung, slicing through his defenses. “I did what I thought was right,” he said defensively, though the conviction in his voice sounded weak, even to his own ears.

“Did what wasright?” she echoed, incredulous. “You did what you thought was right by involving that vile woman…” her lip curled in distaste, “…without so much as awhisperto Gemma? Did you ever stop to consider how that might make her feel?”

He looked away as he fought the surge of regret rising within him. “I did not think she would leave over it,” he said, though the words felt hollow. “I thought… I thought she might find closure, or, or some peace, perhaps. God knows she deserves it.”

The Dowager Duchess let out a frustrated huff, her cane tapping furiously against the floor as she paced.

“Closure? Peace? Frederick, look at me.” She waited until he met her hard and unforgiving gaze. “Gemma has already lived her life without the love of a mother or even a proper family. She found solace here, with us, and what did you do? You summoned the very woman who cast her aside as if she was nothing, and you expected her tostay after that?”

His throat tightened painfully and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I thought… I thought she would see it was time to let go of the past.”

Vivian shook her head slowly, her disappointment palpable. “It is not the past she needs to let go of, Frederick,” she said, her voice gentler now, though no less cutting. “It is the feeling of being unwanted, of being abandoned yet again, and I am afraid you just confirmed her worst fears.”

Frederick could barely hold her gaze. His stomach twisted painfully as the weight of her actions crashed over him. He had wanted to protect her, to give her some semblance of closure, yet all he had done was reopen the wounds she’d tried so desperately to heal.

“You care for her, do you not?” her voice softened, her eyes searching his face for a sign of truth. “Or did I imagine that, Frederick?”

He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the hollow ache in his chest deepen. “I… I do not know,” he admitted quietly, though even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t true. He did care for her.He cared for her more than he’d been willing to admit, even to himself.

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