Page 83 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

Her gaze turned wistful, almost sad. “You have allowed happiness to slip through your fingers, Frederick,” she said softly. “And I fear it may be too late to retrieve it.”

Her words settled heavily in the room, each syllable like a blow he couldn’t avoid. He wanted to argue, to tell her that it wasn’t over, that he could still make things right. But as he sat there, the truth sank in like a stone—he’d made a grievous mistake, and Gemma’s resolve to leave appeared insurmountable.

“I do not know what to say to her,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “She refuses to listen to me.”

Her expression hardened once more. “She will not listen because you have not given her any reason to. You have spent so much effort keeping your heart guarded, and pushing people away, and now, when you finally find someone who could break down those walls, you treat her as if she was just another inconvenience.”

His fists clenched as her words cut deep. “I never meant to make her feel that way.”

“But youdid,” she said sharply. “And now, you will have to live with that. Perhaps if you had shown her even a fraction of the kindness she deserves, she would have stayed.”

Frederick remained silent, the weight of his grandmother’s words settling heavily on him. She was right; he had let his own fears and insecurities drive him to act thoughtlessly, and now he was losing the one person who had managed to make him feel something other than emptiness.

The Dowager studied him for a moment, the lines on her face deepening as she regarded him with abject disappointment.

“I will be returning to my estate in the morning,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of its usual warmth. “And for quite some time to come, I do not believe I will be able to look at you without wondering how you could be so blind.”

She didn’t wait for his response, and simply turned and strode to through the door, leaving him sitting alone in the dim glow of the firelight. The click of the door echoed through the silence, a cold finality settling in the room as Frederick sank back into his chair.

He stared into the dying embers in the hearth, his thoughts a jumble of regret and shame. His grandmother’s harsh admonishment reverberated in his mind, forcing him to confront the truth he’d tried so hard to avoid. He’d spent years hiding behind his walls, guarding himself from pain and vulnerability, and now, the only person who had dared to look past his armor was slipping away.

The ache in his chest grew, a deep, hollow void he couldn’t ignore. He’d made mistakes before, hurt people before, but thiswas far, far worse. Gemma had trusted him, had believed in him, and he’d shattered that trust with a single, thoughtless decision.

For the first time in years, Frederick truly felt lost. He closed his eyes, the enormity of his regret covering him like a heavy wet blanket, and he wondered if he would ever find a way to make things right.

But even as he sat there, a small, fearful voice in the back of his mind whispered the answer he dreaded most.

It is too late.

CHAPTER 31

The ballroom sparkled with golden candlelight and crystal chandeliers, but to Gemma, the glamour only underscored her discomfort.

She stood near the fringes, wearing a dress that once belonged to her mother, its fabric faded and its stitching loose. Though it had been altered to fit her smaller frame, the gown was undeniably old-fashioned. Surrounded by women dressed in the latest fashions of rich satins and delicate lace, she felt like a relic from another age.

Her mother had made certain she wouldn’t be overlooked, taking Gemma’s arm as they entered, presenting her to the crowd as if she was a rare curiosity.

A few guests gave her sidelong glances, barely disguising their disdain, while others whispered behind gloved hands. Gemma tried to ignore their sharp, assessing looks, the polite smiles that barely masked their scorn, and the way mothers pointedly steered their eligible sons in the opposite direction.

“Lady Gemma Bradford,” one Dowager clucked to her friend, though the words drifted directly into Gemma’s ears. “Almost a spinster now, is she not?”

“Indeed,” the friend replied, her fan flicking open to cover a smirk. “Well, I suppose one can still hope, but at her age…” She gave a pitying shake of her head, her eyes passing over Gemma as though she was a painting hung askew.

Gemma turned away, her cheeks burning as she attempted to find solace in the thick velvet curtains that lined the room’s edges, but her mother’s grip tightened on her arm.

“Smile, Gemma,” Lady Treston hissed softly, her lips barely moving. “You look as if you are here to mourn rather than mingle.”

Gemma forced a strained smile onto her face, casting her eyes downward so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone. Her mother released her and patted her hand, her voice turning cloyingly sweet as she addressed a nearby matron. “Lady Pendergast! How lovely to see you!”

The woman’s eyes darted to Gemma. “Is this your eldest, Lady Treston?” Her tone was pleasant, but her smile betrayed her disinterest.

“Yes, indeed.” Lady Treston’s smile sharpened. “My Gemma. So quiet and devoted. She was in a nunnery for the longest time, you know. I believe she is content without a husband. I have my hands full with Elizabeth, though, as you can imagine.”

Gemma bit her lip, resisting the urge to respond, but Lady Pendergast’s eyes had already moved past her, dismissing her as unworthy of any further attention.

The conversations continued around her, filled with subtle remarks that stung like nettles; reminders that, at twenty-three, she was already past her prime. To society, she was practically invisible, her presence tolerated only as a reason to gossip about her mother’s supposed charity.

It didn’t get better as the days wore on. Her mother dragged her to private luncheons and garden parties where wealthy matrons offered thinly veiled insults and strained pleasantries. They would complement her dress, their fingers grazing its fraying edges to emphasize its shabbiness. A hostess would ask her opinion on the latest novels, only to interrupt before she could answer, her interest clearly feigned.

---