Page 11 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

Serena watched the gentlemen approach and cursed silently.

By the look on Hoxton’s face, he saw the attraction between Stiller and Roxanne.

The gentlemen’s presence couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

Hoxton and Roxanne had been carrying on a decent conversation, even though her charge slipped up several times.

No doubt the countess would be furious if she found out that Roxanne had ruined her chances with the duke by showing fondness for another man in his presence.

“Lady Roxanne, Miss Deburgiak, and Hoxton.” Stiller rushed forward, his eagerness palpable. “The peacock is magnificent.”

“As is the company.” Blackstone locked on Roxanne, the light of a predator in his direct gaze. He’d made no secret that he was interested in marrying the lady, no matter her disinterest in him.

“The peacock’s display was beautiful.” Serena walked up to the gentleman, forcing him to look at her and not at Roxanne.

By the darkness of the clouds, the storm would soon be upon them.

Roxanne was afraid of storms, and at any moment, Serena expected her to ask to go back inside.

Except Stiller seemed to be engaging her, thus Roxanne was staying because of him. Or so Serena supposed.

“It is beautiful indeed, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the two ladies in my company,” Stiller said.

Stiller’s fresh-faced grin held no artifice.

In many ways he was much like Roxanne: superficial on the surface.

However, still waters ran deep. In a perfect scenario, the two would be together.

But that scenario didn’t exist, especially with people in their class.

Serena rocked from foot to foot, hoping Stiller would remember that he had no hold on Roxanne.

Serena could practically see the eye roll from Blackstone, and for once, she actually agreed with him.

From what Roxanne said, she was still determined to marry Hoxton.

Serena had a feeling it was more about her mother’s wish for the match than it was any affection Roxanne might have for the gentleman.

However, she had shared her wishes with Serena, and Serena would do her best to advance their association.

“Thank you, that is very kind.” Serena knew Stiller wasn’t referring to her, but was only being polite. He was very good-natured, thus she knew he did it without malice.

“Hoxton was taking me to see the aviary,” Roxanne said. To her credit, she continued to hold on to Hoxton’s arm and even leaned into him with marked familiarity.

A tug of jealousy hit Serena, and she shrugged it off.

Granted, the gentleman had been kind to her, but that didn’t mean he had any interest in her.

She had no right to be jealous of anyone.

If the fates smiled on Roxanne, she would marry Hoxton, and Serena would become part of his household.

She needed to maintain a good rapport with him, but there was no romantic interest between them.

Blackstone glanced down his long nose at Brutus, who had joined them, his little sides heaving from the effort. “Egad, what is that?”

“ He is a dog.” Roxanne bent down and scooped him up, clearly taking offense. Tongue hanging out of his mouth, Brutus looked exhausted, but his little stub tail continued to wag. “This is my sweet Brutus.”

He didn’t seem fazed by her defense of the dog. “So he is.”

“Brutus is very old.” Stiller glanced from Blackstone to Roxanne, his normally smiling mouth thinned with displeasure. “The storm is almost upon us. Might I escort you back to the house?”

Was he aware of Roxanne’s fear of storms or simply trying to steal her from under Hoxton’s nose?

“Hoxton hasn’t finished showing me the gardens,” Roxanne said, her gaze lowered.

“Then we shall finish our tour before the rain begins.” Hoxton covered Roxanne’s hand with his own, signaling his possession of the lady in question. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Hoxton gave them no choice but to say their goodbyes. Serena was pleased he had the forethought to come to Roxanne’s defense. Perhaps all was not lost.

“How very rude of him to mock my precious baby,” Roxanne said.

“Indeed.” Hoxton continued along the same walking path that skirted a series of small buildings in the back of the estate. Dampness hung in the air.

“I think Brutus needs some water,” Roxanne said as she shifted the pudgy dog in her arms. The dog was overweight and feeling the effects.

“May I?” Hoxton indicated that she should give him the dog.

With a smile, she handed him over. Hoxton looped his arm under the dog, and Brutus yelped. Then followed it up with a loud release of flatulence.

Serena pressed her hand to her mouth, the smell drifting around them like a noxious cloud.

Hoxton looked rather stunned, his own eyes glittering. Whether from amusement or from the stink was yet to be determined.

For her part, Roxanne didn’t seem fazed by her dog’s gassiness.

“I think he had something that doesn’t agree with him.” It was a testament to Hoxton’s fortitude that he continued to carry the dog.

“He ate some of my apple this morning. The dog loves the fruit. Since he is elderly, my cousin tends to dote on him.” Serena bit her lip, feeling sympathy for the gentleman. She was used to the dog’s odor. To a stranger, it must be a bit overwhelming. “If you would prefer, I can carry him.”

“That won’t be necessary. Look, he’s already asleep.” Brutus’s head hung down, his tongue falling to the side. Hoxton carried him easily, and Serena’s heart melted the tiniest bit more.

A loud snore erupted from the dog, followed by a soft growl.

An arch led to an herb garden where a thin man knelt on the ground. “Your grace,” he said, hopping to his feet.

“Might I bother you for some water for the dog?” Hoxton asked.

“Yes, of course.” The man nodded, looking from him to the dog and back at Serena and Roxanne before scurrying away.

“Thus far, the gardens are exceptional.” Serena glanced around the neat rows of plants, the earthy smell of dirt and mint prevailing. It was much more pleasant than Brutus and his poor disposition.

“There are no pink flowers here,” Roxanne observed.

“There are purple ones. You like purple.” Serena pointed out the obvious. Until now, the conversation had flowed. The stiltedness didn’t bode well.

“I do like purple. I found a plum ribbon at the haberdashery that would look perfect with my new morning dress. Do you like purple, your grace?” Roxanne asked.

“It is the color of royalty.” He shrugged, shifting the dog in his arms. Brutus’s eyes opened before he lowered his eyelids, another snore following.

“Lady Diana is fond of purple. She and Mama were talking about how flattering the color was on me.” Roxanne angled her jaw and studied a nearby plant. “What plant is this?”

“I believe it is catnip,” Hoxton said.

“Then your gardener must have a hard time keeping the household cats at bay,” Serena said.

Hoxton grinned. “No doubt you are correct.”

The gardener returned with a wooden bowl. He placed it on the ground.

“Thank you,” Hoxton said. “You can go back to what you were doing.”

With a bob, the man stepped back.

Hoxton knelt down, waking the dog. He placed him on the ground by the bowl. Brutus began to lap up the water.

A flash of lightning brightened the sky. Roxanne released a high-pitched squeal as several drops of rain fell. Thunder followed, shaking the ground.

Another white streak followed by several booms of thunder ensued. Brutus lifted his head, terror in his eyes.

“Grab him, Hoxton,” Roxanne screamed, pointing at the dog.

Crouched near the dog, Hoxton didn’t react. Indeed, he looked almost statuesque, still and unmoving in his huddled position.

Alarm bells rang in Serena’s head, but she didn’t have time to question his odd behavior.

With impressive speed, Brutus ran for all he was worth out of the herb garden and into the garden proper.

“Brutus, don’t go!” Roxanne bumped into Hoxton in her haste to catch him. She slapped a hand to her mouth as the rain increased and more lightning crackled in the air, her fear warring with her love for her dog.

Hoxton stood upright, confusion in his gaze. “What happened?”

“Please take Roxanne inside,” Serena instructed. “I must go after Brutus. The thunder frightened him.”

“Go inside with your cousin. I will get the dog,” Hoxton said, his complexion pale and waxen.

Roxanne bit her lip, clearly torn. “I—”

“Go, I will find him,” Serena assured her cousin. She wasn’t sure how wise it was for him to come with her.

With a nod, Roxanne bolted to the front of the house, visible through another arch. Lifting her skirts in a way her mother would disapprove of, she didn’t look back.

“He can be skittish when scared.” Everything inside her head said that something wasn’t quite right with Hoxton at this moment. Several more drops of rain hit her bonnet, a downpour imminent.

“I will find him. Go inside.” A line of moisture sheened his brow, and it wasn’t from the rain.

“We don’t have time to argue. If we don’t hurry we will be drenched.”

“Very well.” With a grim nod, they both went in search of the dog.