Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

“ I quite enjoyed that,” Vivian remarked, smiling as she looked out the carriage window. “Lady Somerville never disappoints with her gatherings.”

“She certainly has a talent for bringing people together,” Gemma agreed, still savoring the lightheartedness of the afternoon. “It was lovely. And it is always good to become familiar with the local society.”

Vivian gave her a knowing smile. “And you managed quite well with all the attention, Gemma. I must say, you handled Lord Cunningham with grace. But I could not help noticing that someone else seemed quite captivated with you.”

“Who do you mean?” Gemma asked, playing coy even as a knowing smile tugged at her lips.

“Frederick, of course.” Vivian chuckled softly. “My dear, he may try to hide it, but everyone could see how he watched you today.”

A soft blush colored Gemma’s cheeks as she shook her head. “Vivian, I think you are reading into things. He was simply being polite.”

“Oh, I know Frederick well enough to recognize that particular look. It is not out of politeness, Gemma. There is something genuine there, whether he admits to it or not.”

Gemma hesitated as her thoughts tangled together.

There was no denying that Frederick’s attention stirred something in her, something she tried extremely hard to ignore, but she was aware of the reality of their situation. Soon, they would each return to their respective paths, and the connection they had shared—whatever it was—would come to a rest in the quiet arms of Vivian’s estate.

“Perhaps,” Gemma replied softly. “But His Grace has his own plans, as do I.”

Vivian’s eyes softened and she reached over, gently patting Gemma’s hand. “Perhaps. But life often has plans for us that we cannot foresee. For now, enjoy this moment, my dear. You have a rare companionship with him.”

They rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the sun lowering toward the horizon as they finally approached Vivian’s estate.

As they arrived, the sky was painted in soft hues of orange and pink, the perfect evening glow casting a golden light over the garden’s blooming flowers.

With a smile, Vivian suggested a sunset walk through the grounds, and they strolled quietly along the garden paths, taking in the colors and scents around them.

“You know, Gemma,” Vivian said, her tone thoughtful, “it gives me such joy to have you here with me. You have brought so much light to this place.”

Gemma smiled, feeling the warmth of Vivian’s words. “It has been more of a home than I ever expected to find, Vivian. I cannot thank you often enough for that.”

They paused near the fountain, watching the ripples of water that sparkled in the evening light. It was a rare, serene moment, one that Gemma knew she would always cherish.

Their collective peace was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps on the gravel path. Both women turned to see Frederick and Andrew walking from the house, each looking slightly windblown from the evening air.

“Ah, just in time for dinner,” Vivian said with a pleased smile, raising an eyebrow at her grandson. “Frederick, I was not expecting you and Lord Newfield.”

Frederick inclined his head with a faint smile, his gaze flicking to Gemma briefly before he responded. “We thought we might join you, Grandmother, if you do not mind. And of course, Miss Bradford.”

Andrew gave them both a warm smile. “What can I say? Frederick promised a fine meal, and I am here to make sure he lives up to that promise.”

Gemma, surprised but pleased, returned his smile. “Well, I certainly hope he does.”

Frederick’s gaze lingered on her, and his expression softened. “Only the best for our guests.”

As they all made their way inside, Gemma felt her heart lift. The gentle companionship of the day had left her feeling at peace and Gemma’s thoughts circled back to what Vivian had said.

For the first time she wondered if, between the laughter and the friendship, there could be more to come if she allowed it.

The dining room of the Duchess’ estate was filled with laughter and conversation, the firelight casting a warm glow over the table as the evening progressed.

Yet Frederick barely noticed any of it.

He nodded absently at his grandmother and Andrew, making polite conversation when required, but his attention kept straying to Gemma, seated across the table next to his grandmother. Her laughter, and her smile. Each gesture seemed more magnetic than the last, and his attention felt inescapably drawn to her.

Every so often Gemma would look his way, and when their eyes met, there was a fleeting, charged connection, an understanding they both seemed reluctant to acknowledge in words.

To Vivian’s delight, Frederick had insisted on joining them for dinner that evening. The previous day’s luncheon had been tense and Gemma had kept to herself, surrounded as she was by the attentions of others.

She now seemed equally absorbed in her conversation with Vivian and her occasional exchanges with Andrew.

As if sensing his silent frustration, Andrew grinned over his glass of wine.

“Frederick,” Andrew said, leaning closer, “you have been very pensive this evening. Is something weighing on your mind?”

Frederick shook his head, trying to pull himself back to the present.

“Not at all,” he replied smoothly, though he caught the quirk of Andrew’s brow and the unspoken disbelief in his friend’s eyes.

From across the table, Gemma turned her amused gaze to him.

“Perhaps, Your Grace,” she began, her voice holding a playful edge, “you are simply in need of some fresh company. Perhaps your present circle has become stale to you.”

Frederick chuckled, masking his surprise. “I am quite content with the company,” he replied, meeting her gaze.

The words were evasive, but he could see the understanding in her eyes. There was so much left unsaid between them; a pull that neither one of them appeared ready to explore.

Vivian caught their exchange and a pleased, knowing smile washed across her features as she sipped her wine.

“Content with the company, indeed,” she murmured with a satisfied smile. “Why, I do not know what you two would have done this summer without each other. A distraction is essential in a season of such… idle pursuits, after all.”

Gemma laughed and her gaze lightened. “Your companionship has certainly made this time memorable,” she replied, her words directed to Vivian, although her gaze briefly lingered on Frederick.

The dinner continued, although Frederick’s uncertain, undefined, and confused thoughts continued to complicate his feelings for her.

He had known from the beginning that they both wanted freedom and independence. However, in spite of that knowledge, a steady, insistent worry had developed inside of him that grew larger with each passing day.

What would she do once the season was over? Where did she intend to go? Would she be forced to return to the confines of a world that had already treated her so unjustly?

The ceaseless worries gnawed at him. The thought of her uncertain future—that the joy she had finally found could be snatched away from her in an instant, and she would once again become lost. He knew he had to do something, but he couldn’t bring himself to discuss it with her, not yet. He wasn’t even sure what he would say if he tried.

As dinner ended, Vivian suggested moving into the drawing room for a drink, and everyone rose, chatting and laughing as they moved to the adjoining room. The low firelight in the drawing room emitted a cozy and comforting warmth as they all settled into their chosen seats.

Frederick found himself beside Gemma, their proximity both a relief and a source of silent torment.

Vivian leaned forward, smiling at them both.

“Now, Gemma,” she began, “I hope you are making the most of this rare freedom, indulging in as many experiences as you can. Soon enough, you will have to make plans and decide what you want for yourself.”

Frederick’s focus sharpened on Gemma as she responded, her voice carrying an undercurrent of determination. “That is precisely what I intend, Your Grace. I cannot imagine settling for less than a life that I shape myself. I will not let anyone decide that for me.”

Frederick was filled with a quiet sense of pride and respect for her fortitude.

He knew that her independence meant everything to her, that the time she spent here, the choices she made now, all mattered immensely. It only deepened his desire to ensure she was truly free in her decisions and unburdened by the shadows of her past.

Andrew, who had been listening with a smile, leaned back. “Well, Miss Bradford,” he said with a charming grin, “it seems you are one of the few who truly understands the luxury of choice. Many find it quite difficult to comprehend.”

She smiled in response, her gaze lingering on Frederick briefly. “I am just determined to make up for lost time. After all, none of us knows what tomorrow brings.”

The words struck Frederick more sharply than he anticipated. She was right; they didn’t know what the future held, and the thought of her fading from his life, and drifting away as the seasons changed, unsettled him deeply.

When the evening finally wound to a close, Frederick slowly made his farewells. Gemma seemed equally hesitant to say goodbye, but there was no way around it.

She would remain safe under his grandmother’s roof, while he and Andrew returned to his estate.

It was with a reluctant heart that he bid her goodnight.

Once they were in the carriage, Andrew glanced at Frederick with a knowing expression.

“You are far more attached to her than you would like to admit,” he observed.

Frederick exhaled a long, steady sigh, his gaze fixed on the road. “It is not that simple.”

“Is it not?” Andrew challenged, a glint of humor and disagreement in his eyes. “There is a difference between keeping your distance and pretending you do not care.”

Frederick remained silent, absorbing the truth of Andrew’s words. Andrew continued, his tone more thoughtful. “She is…remarkable, Frederick. I can see it, and so can everyone else who spends even a moment in her company. But it is more than that. She does not yet see herself the way we do.”

Frederick nodded, his voice low. “That is why I have taken it upon myself to contact her mother to see if there might be some closure, some answers for her. I have not told her and I do not intend to. If she does not wish to pursue it, so be it, but I…I believe she deserves to have the opportunity.”

Andrew considered this, then nodded approvingly. “You are giving her the chance to overcome the hurt from which she has been running. That is far more than anyone else has done for her.”

“It is the least I can do,” Frederick murmured, his gaze dark. “If she is ever to move forward, she must confront the past that is keeping her shackled. I shall search for the widow of the late Earl of Carrington. Surely I’ll be able to locate her, even if she has remarried.”

“Gemma is the daughter of the late Earl of Carrington?”

“Yes.”

“Well then,” Andrew clasped a hand on his shoulder. “You are doing right by her, old friend. But do not lose sight of what is best for you, either. You are more alike than you realize.”

Frederick didn’t answer, but his resolve grew stronger. He would keep the arrangement with her mother to himself until he was certain Gemma was ready.

There was something else there, too, a need to protect her, to offer her a foundation that no one else had.

When he returned to Blackridge that evening, the shadowed halls felt empty without her, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss.

For all their insistence that this was temporary, he feared that when the time came for her to move on, he would struggle to let her go.