Page 3 of Winning Her Duke

“And the good doctor gave me a tonic to restore my humors. All is well now.” He patted her on the hand.

Lady Tomison made a noise but affected a perfectly innocent expression when Gia turned to look at the woman. Something was going on here, but there was only one thing that mattered now.

“We can return home.”

He paused with a wine glass inches from his lips and offered a placating smile.

“We don’t need to be hasty. Perhaps we should give it a few days to make sure the restorative continues working.” He sent a sneaking glance to the other end of the table.

“Of course,” Lady Tomison said dryly. “You are welcome to stay as long as you’d like. I am more than happy to offer my assistance to provide proper attire for your daughter. Ballgowns, perhaps, my lord?”

“Uh… well… yes. I suppose if we are to be in London for any length of time during the Season, it makes sense that we attend a few events.” He waved his hand as if the events he’d spoken of were trivial.

Gia took in the exchange silently. As the seconds ticked away on the enameled clock sitting on the mantel, everything fell into place.

“Papa?” she said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, bother,” her father winced, though not in pain this time since he’d apparently given up the charade.

“You lied to me. Tricked me into coming to London for the Season?”

Her father’s face confirmed her suspicion, but he at least had the decency to answer her question.

“Yes, sweetheart. I did.” He straightened his shoulders and offered a firm nod. “It’s time you found a husband.”

“A husband?” She’d thought her father had given up on this crusade years ago and had accepted she was content living at their estate, breeding and training horses. Her horses provided all the happiness she could ever want. And in the country, she was free to be herself. Without being reminded of her failure years ago when she’d attempted to follow the path of every other young lady and find a match.

“It is time. You cannot hide away in the country any longer,” he said, pain and worry threaded through his voice. She wouldn’t allow it to sway her anger.

“You shall pay dearly for your deceit,” Gia nearly hissed her threat.

Lydia chuckled at the other end of the table.

“Oh, this will be great fun.”

Chapter Two

Jeremy Hale, Duke of Roxburghe, leaned against a pillar in the Marksley ballroom and effected a look of disinterest that worked well to keep everyone at bay. If his look didn’t adequately secure his privacy, he need only to greet the intruder with his thick brogue to make them scurry back to safety.

It had been an efficient and amusing strategy in the past.

By now, the only two people who might venture into his space and disrupt his peace were his best friends and unfortunately, they had yet to arrive.

As soon as they did, Hale would join them in the card room. Or perhaps they would leave the affair altogether in favor of some other entertainment.

Hale had worked hard over the years to build a notorious reputation as a rake in order to scare off innocent debutantes and their hopeful mamas. His size and general somber countenance had earned him an air of danger. While only the most desperate woman would brave enticing the Scottish barbarian, he was still a duke and therefore a candidate for a match.

The fact that not everything whispered about his reputation was true, didn’t matter. The only thing that was of any significance in London was perception.

And he chose to be perceived as dangerous and unmarriageable. While the first was a stretch, the latter was highly probable.

Like many men of his age and title, Hale didn’t want to marry. And like every other man with said affliction, he had good reason to feel that way.

Many of his cohorts chose to avoid the parson’s trap because they preferred living the life of a scoundrel. Hale did not fall into this category. Nor did he fit in with the men who had loved and lost, loved and been betrayed, or loved and simply changed their minds.

Jeremy had never loved or been loved.

By anyone. Ever.