Page 12 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

The effects of Hoxton’s episode left every nerve on edge.

Wind and rain whipped around them, the storm in full force.

Combined with Lady Roxanne’s screams, the thunder had taken his mind to the past. He shivered, but not from the weather.

Revulsion nearly overwhelmed him as memories of cannons and musket fire bombarded him.

He could almost hear the cries of the fallen calling to him, reminding him that there was no escaping the horror he had witnessed, or the loss of life he had caused.

The war might be over, but the battle inside his head raged on.

“Do you hear that?” A hand settled on his sleeve, their footsteps slowing along the path lined with tall hedges. She cocked her head, her bonnet and hair becoming sodden. Her profile to him, her cheeks held a healthy glow.

Miss Deburgiak had seen his loss of control; he could tell by the pitying look in her eyes. He fought a flash of irritation at the notion she thought he was weak.

A faint whimpering came from somewhere nearby. She dropped to her knees, either unaware or uncaring that her gown was splashed with mud. “Oh, you poor dear,” she said. She reached underneath the hedge and, seconds later, pulled out a shivering dog.

His heart went out to the little pooch, and he removed his greatcoat. “Here, wrap him up in this.”

She gazed up at him with big, soulful eyes and a grateful smile on her lips. “He will ruin your fine coat.”

“My valet will be able to brush out a bit of mud. Besides, the longer we argue, the wetter he will become.” The rain he could handle; the rest still rattled his nerves.

With a reluctant nod, she held out Brutus while he wrapped the coat around the dog.

The action brought him closer to her, and he could smell the pleasant floral scent of her perfume over the dog’s stench.

The dog might be the worse for wear, but Miss Deburgiak never looked prettier.

The thought sent a shock throughout his system.

His desire for her was amplified, and he shifted on his feet.

“It is not the mud that worries me. I am sure it has come to your attention that Brutus has a particularly pungent odor about him that I am afraid will ruin your coat.” She held the dog tight to her body, trapping Hoxton’s fingers against her stomach.

The wicked side of him said to slip his palm around her waist and bring her closer still.

A foolish thought because he was going to marry her cousin, or he had every intention of marrying her cousin.

The fact that Lady Roxanne had fled despite her earlier declaration about her beloved pet did not sit well with him.

“What is a coat used for but to provide warmth to those who need it. It is apparent that Brutus needs it more than I at this juncture.” Brutus’s stench would be absorbed by the fine wool, and his valet would be up in arms, but it was all irrelevant.

He had no emotional attachment to the animal, yet he believed all animals and humans deserved care with dignity.

It was one of the reasons he hired some of the former soldiers who were once under his command.

Like him, they were lost souls who needed a chance to thrive.

Thick lashes enhanced her amber yellow eyes. Her pupils dilated, and his attention drifted to her parted mouth, desire constricting his breathing. She stood still, not moving an inch. “You are a very kind man.”

Her words warmed him like nothing else could, and he nodded, fighting the blush that wanted to rush to his cheeks. “It is what any decent human being would do.”

“I think it is more than that.” Silence hung between them after her statement as they continued to stare at each other.

The need to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him.

He leaned in closer, wishing with every fiber of his being to give in to the whim.

The storm hadn’t let up, and a decided chill swirled around his legs, yet he remained rooted to the spot.

Her intuitiveness impressed him, and her lips tempted his resolve.

Lusting after her wasn’t conducive to his goal of marrying her cousin.

Roxanne might be stunningly beautiful, but Miss Deburgiak was captivating.

“Sere—Miss Deburgiak,” he said and stopped, unsure what he wanted to say.

Words failed him, and he found himself staring at her upturned face.

The rain continued to fall, soaking through his coat.

He’d withstood mud and bone chilling cold while serving in the army.

Some days, he’d been almost too tired to move.

Today, he was strangely alive, expectation in the air.

“Yes.” Mouth parted, she swayed in his direction, an answering light in her eyes.

Time suspended before a bolt of lightning, followed by thunder, rocked the ground.

Hoxton’s eyelids popped wide as dread set in.

Brutus let out a low howl, breaking them apart.

“I think we had best get in,” he said, his voice more raspy than normal.

The second the storm began, he’d been on edge, but Miss Deburgiak’s presence had helped him wade through the underlying panic that followed him around like an unpleasant shadow.

“I agree, I—”

Another flash of lightning broke, propelling his mind backward to another time.

Battle cries and cannon fire ratcheted inside his head.

While his feet were firmly planted in England, his memories were in Waterloo.

He clenched his fists. Someone screamed behind him, and he twisted his torso, his gut tightening in anticipation of the fight.

Lady Roxanne rushed down the path, a servant behind her holding a lace umbrella that offered no protection from the inclement weather.

Every muscle in his body relaxed at once, and hysterical laughter issued from his throat.

“Oh, bother, she will be the death of me yet.” Miss Deburgiak quickly moved along the muddy path to intercept her mistress, leaving Hoxton staring in her wake.

She cradled the dog in her arms, the tails of his coat dragging on the path.

Oblivious to her own drowned state, she seemed more concerned about her charge than herself.

Pressing his lips together, he worked to get his breathing back to normal. Thankfully, Miss Deburgiak was too busy looking after Lady Roxanne to notice his lapse into the past. Had she recognized the trauma he continued to live years after Waterloo, he’d be humiliated.

“Thank the saints you found Brutus.” Roxanne reached out to take the animal, who had started to struggle in Miss Deburgiak’s arms. She cuddled the dog next to her chest and thumbed his wet head with her gloved finger.

“It was wrong of me to abandon him in his time of need, but the thunder, well, it was inexcusable. Pray forgive me, Brutus and Hoxton.”

“It is not my place to forgive you.” Hoxton focused on the conversation at hand, rather than dwelling on the demons of his past. His opinion of Lady Roxanne notched higher.

Her ability to adapt and push through her real fear for the sake of her dog was noble and demonstrated a strength of character.

His one regret was that there was no true spark of any greater emotion other than friendship.

He’d been close to kissing Miss Deburgiak, a woman who simply smiled at him, and he wanted to ravish her.

“And it is more than apparent that Brutus has.”

Angling her head, she eyed the blackened clouds and nodded. “I would like to go inside now.”

“I think that is a wise plan.” He held out his arm to Lady Roxanne, his gaze moving to Miss Deburgiak.

She was soaking wet, her bonnet drooping over one eye.

In his opinion, she never looked more appealing.

Had the thunder not happened at that moment, he might have ruined everything by kissing her.

“Miss Deburgiak will need a change of clothing and a warm beverage.”

The servant with the umbrella held it over him and Lady Roxanne.

Hoxton stared up at the frilly pink umbrella, the sky visible through the webbed lace.

In a pinch, it might ward off the worst of a misty rain.

Given the state of the clouds, a downpour would soon be on the way.

“I think Miss Deburgiak needs this more than I.”

Miss Deburgiak waved a dismissive hand. “You gave up your coat, and as you can see, I can’t get any wetter.

However, if we continue to dawdle, I might get washed away.

” She moved past them, putting an end to the argument.

Was she upset with him over the near kiss, or simply being her practical self?

Arm in arm with Lady Roxanne, he watched the sway of Miss Deburgiak’s hips until he caught himself.

He glanced over at Lady Roxanne to see if she noticed.

Her lips were pressed tight, her terror still evident.

She soldiered on, which was a promising sign.

“You should be proud of yourself for trying to overcome your fear. It couldn’t be easy. ”

“No, it isn’t.” She lowered her lashes before lifting them again. Direct blue eyes met his. “Papa said that if you face your fears head-on, then it makes it easier. Thus far, I haven’t found that to be true.”

Hoxton grinned at her wise quip. He couldn’t agree more.

He’d na?vely thought that his demons would remain on the battlefield.

Since returning to England, the terror had faded, but it never quite went away.

“As my commander used to say, the easiest thing to do is give advice to others. Whether it is helpful or not is still up in the air.”

Lady Roxanne blinked up at him, her skin flawless. She was a woman yet carried a childlike quality. Society valued youth and often encouraged young women to project an image of innocence. “It is not helpful when you are afraid.”

“It isn’t being afraid that is an issue. It is stopping you from trying. However, I would also advise that if you fail, you shouldn’t be discouraged. Many things in life take practice.” Birds had been his salvation, and once he immersed himself in his hobby, the terror became easier to keep at bay.

They approached the house where Miss Deburgiak stopped at the outer door, halting further conversation. One of his efficient staff opened it before disappearing inside.

“I enjoyed our outing, your grace.” Lady Roxanne turned to offer him a stunning smile, relief removing the lines of tension around her mouth. “I would have preferred that the weather hadn’t turned blustery. Seeing the peacocks, however, wasn’t truly frightening. Indeed, they are beautiful.”

Miss Deburgiak beamed at her charge, the light in her eyes as stunning as her cousin’s perfect beauty. Her calming presence had been the perfect catalyst that he and Lady Roxanne needed to traverse their courtship.

“I am pleased you are pleased. Perhaps we can walk again tomorrow.” In three more days, the weeklong house party would end.

His family—most especially his grandmother—had pressed him to make a decision about his bride before that time.

It was highly unfeasible as there was still much to know about her, and he’d stick to his original plan to wait until the end of the house party before making up his mind.

“For now, I would suggest you change out of those wet clothes before you catch a chill.”