Page 1 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)
Miss Serena Deburgiak entered the impressive Hoxton House library and quietly closed the door behind her.
“Good day, my lady,” came a wobbly voice. Turning abruptly, she spotted a white cockatoo perched on a wooden dowel near the window at the front of the elongated room. The bird stared at her. Its head cocked at a charming angle, it said again, “Good day, my lady.”
“Beg pardon, I am not a lady, just a miss.” While born into the aristocracy, she had come to the Duke of Hoxton’s estate as the companion of her cousin Roxanne, the daughter of Viscount Clarkingham.
With a smile, Serena walked toward the bird, its black eyes fixed on her.
She had only ever seen a cockatoo depicted in a book, but the renderings didn’t do the bird justice.
“Good day to you, kind sir. What is your name?” she asked.
“Pretty boy.” Pretty Boy made a series of clicks while moving from one inky black claw to another. The stark white feathers against the garden backdrop beyond the window created a fetching picture, the comb on his head lifted to reveal a soft yellow plume.
A melody, complete with lyrics, popped into Serena’s head. Unable to stop smiling at the unexpected treat, she angled her neck, mimicking his position, and then sang in a fast tempo, “Pretty, pretty, pretty boy. To look upon your handsome face makes my heart leap with joy.”
“Pretty boy,” Pretty Boy repeated while he continued to stare at her, his head bobbing up and down to the melody. “Pretty. Pretty. I am a pretty boy.”
A joyful laugh escaped at his antics, and she continued to sing, “Joy, joy, happy happy boy, pretty on his perch, his feathers white and pure, happy happy bird.”
Pretty boy became animated by her song, puffing out his chest. Fluffing his feathers, he spread his wings before tucking them in, clearly enjoying their interaction. “Happy boy, pretty boy.”
“Happy boy, pretty boy.” She laughed as she copied him, moving around with her hands tucked under her arms like wings. “What a joy, to see this happy, happy boy, I wish I could fly an—”
Masculine laughter came from her right, stopping her spontaneous singing. Startled, she craned her neck to see the Duke of Hoxton himself on the library’s back ladder, holding a book. A former military man, he had a commanding presence even from a distance.
“Beg pardon, your grace.” Serena fought the blush that seemed destined to land on her cheeks at his piercing stare.
She steadied herself, grounding her feet on the thick woolen rug to regain her balance.
His imposing stature and elevated rank made him an intimidating figure.
“I was fetching something to read, and I, well, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone, and Pretty Boy spoke to me and, well, beg pardon. I will leave.”
“Pretty Boy is what my cousins call him,” Hoxton said, amusement lining his words. “His real name is Rapscallion, and yes, he does have a way of garnering attention from the ladies. He is a very vain bird.”
Hoxton climbed down the ladder, his back to her. His impressive physique was accentuated by his tan coat and buckskin breeches, his disheveled brown hair brushing his collar. He landed on the floor from the last rung, making a quiet thump.
“Rapscallion, what a fitting name.” Serena continued to stare at the bird, which was much safer than staring at the duke.
While attending parties and social events with her cousin, she tended to blend in with the other matrons.
Granted, she was but twenty-three, yet she preferred to be in the background.
Avoiding the pointed stares and unsolicited judgment of her facial abnormality had become second nature to her. “He is very precocious.”
“As was the ditty you sang to him. You have a lovely voice.” The uneven rhythm of Hoxton’s footsteps indicated his approach to her position by the bird. Wounded at Waterloo as a captain, he inherited the title of duke after his grandfather’s demise.
“Thank you.” Serena hated to be the center of attention for a myriad of reasons, and even having his gaze directed at her made her uncomfortable.
The fact that he’d overheard her silly song made the situation far more embarrassing.
Unsure of her next move, she stared at her feet.
“I am sorry if I disturbed you, Your Grace. It wasn’t my wish. ”
“Even if you didn’t plan on it, now that you have, choose a book to read.” His lighthearted tone made the statement less harsh. From her limited observations of him with her cousin, she judged him to be a serious person. His teasing comment belied that assumption.
Serena quickly glanced at him, then covered her mouth to conceal her smile and hide her unsightly scar from view.
Cognizant of her imperfection more than usual, she attempted to keep the left side of her face turned to him.
Unfortunately, that required her to twist her torso in an awkward manner. “That is very kind of you, Your Grace.”
“I am afraid you have the advantage.” He rubbed the back of his neck, offering a sheepish smile. “Unless you have been introduced to me in the past and I merely forgot. I try to remember everyone I meet, but that isn’t always possible.”
Her smile broadened at Hoxton’s self-deprecating humor, and she willed her wildly thumping heart to slow its mad beat.
He may not have recalled meeting her, but she remembered meeting him when they’d first arrived.
She was used to being overlooked, not singled out, especially by a handsome and charming man. “It is Miss Serena Deburgiak.”
“Your surname sounds very familiar.” Hoxton took a few steps closer to her, seeming genuinely interested in finding out more about her. Dimples creased his cheeks, his sideburns accentuating the strength of his jawline. “Of course, it might be familiar because you are a guest in my home.”
“Technically, I am not a guest. I am accompanying my cousin, Lady Roxanne. Lady Agatha is my aunt — well, my step-aunt. She is my mother’s stepsister.
” Her aunt, the Countess of Clarkingham, was chaperoning Roxanne at the garden luncheon, freeing Serena from her duties as a companion.
She’d wanted to find a novel to immerse herself in until she’d run into Rapscallion.
“My apologies for not recognizing you.” Hoxton settled his hands on his hips, his head cocked. The pale light from the window illuminated his dark lashes and haloed his hair. “Your surname is unusual. Was your father Dutch?”
“He came to England from what is now known as the Netherlands to be a portraitist.” Serena squared her shoulders and nodded, waiting for the judgment to commence.
No matter how much her aunt and others in society looked down on her father, she took pride in his accomplishments. “He passed away ten years ago.”
“I am sorry to hear of your loss.” Sincere regret softened his features, giving her a true insight into his good nature.
Serena couldn’t be more pleased to discover that positive character trait since Roxanne had come to Hoxton House with the expectation of receiving an offer of marriage from Hoxton. “Thank you.”
A blur shot across the room, and Serena shrieked and ducked. Rapscallion’s wings displaced the wind as the bird glided over to Hoxton, who lifted his arm. The inky claws of the cockatoo landed on his sleeve, the white wings contracting.
“Beg pardon, Miss Deburgiak.” Stroking the bird with a knuckle, Hoxton admonished Rapscallion, “Stop frightening the guests.”
“He merely startled me, that is all.” Light laughter spilled from her lips, and she shook her head at the bird’s antics.
With her hand on her chest, she inhaled a calming breath.
She adored all creatures. Roxanne, however, would have run screaming from the room had she even laid eyes on Rapscallion.
Her cousin was deathly afraid of birds, which might prove to be an issue once Hoxton found out.
The bird stared at her with its head cocked, its eyes dark and inquisitive. “Pretty boy. Pretty, pretty boy.”
Serena never expected to see such personality coming from a bird, and she was completely enchanted by him.
Perhaps she could convince her cousin to meet Rapscallion.
If Roxanne didn’t receive an offer of marriage from Hoxton, her mother would be furious, and she wasn’t the only one.
Hoxton’s grandmother, the dowager duchess Diana, who was also Roxanne’s godmother, and Queen Charlotte herself, all wished for the match between the houses.
“You are indeed vain.” Serena met Hoxton’s amused regard.
She was glad to have escaped the pressure on her cousin.
Although she did envy her in her choice of husband.
The laugh lines around his eyes enhanced his allure, causing her heart to flutter even more under his gaze.
She curled her fingers, playing with the amulet at her neck.
Second to her brother Brandon, her cousin was the most important person in her life, and she wanted to see her happy.
Hoxton continued his gentle stroking of the bird, true affection reflected in his eyes. “Apologize and say I am sorry to the lady.”
Serena’s pulse continued to drum. She was uncomfortable yet, at the same time, comfortable speaking with him.
“I am sorry.” A series of clicks followed the bird’s dutiful repetition.
“You are forgiven,” Serena said, not truly upset with the bird in the first place.
She reached over and stroked the bird’s soft feathers, her finger accidentally brushing Hoxton’s.
She withdrew her hand, heat rushing to her neck and chest. “After meeting Rapscallion, I understand why you are a bird enthusiast. Do you have more exotic birds than he?”