Page 2 of Winning Her Duke

In the drawing room, her father made the introductions while reclined on a settee with a glass of brandy a servant had brought him. “Gia, this is Lady Tomison. Her late husband and I were good friends. Lydia, this is my daughter Gia. You might remember her from when we were in town years ago.”

Gia curtsied to the woman whom she did not remember. She’d done her best to block out all memories of her time here.

“Of course. Please call me Lydia. I’m pleased you’ve come to stay.”

Her father cleared his throat and Lydia let out a deep breath.

“That is, I wish it could be under better circumstances.”

Gia didn’t know the woman well enough to be certain, but Lydia looked rather annoyed with her father. Was she upset that he’d been brought to her home to be tended? Gia hardly had a chance to form the thought before an older gentleman with unruly, white hair and a leather bag was shown into the room.

Thank goodness, the doctor had arrived.

“Let’s take a look.” The man got right to business.

“We should have the ladies leave us,” her father said.

“Papa, no. I want to—”

“Yes, yes. Off you go. I’ll report back to you straightaway,” the doctor said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Gia squared her shoulders, prepared to argue when Lady Tomison intervened.

“Come. Let’s leave them. I’m certain your father will be much improved very soon.” Was the woman glaring at Gia’s father?

Once they were in the hall, the woman transformed into the welcoming host one would expect when arriving for a visit rather than a dire medical emergency.

“I’ve put you in the garden room,” she said as she ascended the stairs with a grace Gia had never accomplished. “Your father mentioned you enjoy painting, and that room has the best light.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure we won’t be staying long. Once my father is diagnosed, we will certainly return to Elmhurst. He will be more comfortable recovering at home in the country.”

The woman said nothing, and Gia felt the need to continue her babbling.

“I don’t even have a change of clothes, and I have horses to tend to.” Though Owen, her stable master, and her small army of grooms would manage in her absence.

When they arrived in the Garden Room, Gia gasped. Not just because the room was beautiful with its floral wallpaper and a wide window that would bring in the light Lydia mentioned. But because on the bed sat a familiar portmanteau.

“I’ll have Jessie see to putting away your things until your maid and trunks arrive.”

“My maid and—”

“Please let me know if you need anything else. I’ll have dinner served within the hour. I’m sure you and your father are famished from your travels.”

Gia wanted to point out that her father couldn’t possibly eat dinner in his condition, but Lydia was gone before Gia could argue or ask how her items came to be packed when they’d left in such a hurry.

Something wasn’t adding up.

Jessie came in then and helped Gia get ready for dinner.

When Gia arrived in the dining room, her father was seated at the head of the table as a guest of his title was expected to. Lydia sat at the other end and another seat was placed beside her father, presumably for her.

“Father?” Gia rushed toward him as he stood, to help him if needed. But he was steady on his feet and wearing a different set of clothes she recognized as his own.

“I’m perfectly fine now. Not to worry. In fact, I believe I will benefit from this wonderful meal Lydia has summoned for us.” Her father helped Gia take her seat before returning to his own, looking as healthy as ever.

He was an attractive man for his age. Perhaps a little thicker in the middle than when she was younger, but not to the point of being soft. His chestnut hair had grayed only at the temples. She knew the ladies back in Leigham fluttered around him like girls, and he did nothing to stay their attentions.

“I don’t understand,” Gia said while studying him. “You were ill and we raced to London…”