Page 17 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

Serena was more than pleased. With Roxanne coming to Ava’s rescue, the production went as smoothly as a children’s production could. Having arranged several herself, she was impressed by Lady Daisy’s skill as a director.

The children’s engaging banter captivated her throughout their performance. To her left, Stiller chuckled softly, a soothing sound. Except, the man to her right held her complete attention.

Like her, Hoxton couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Roxanne’s fair countenance.

Serena knew, for reasons yet unknown, that a proposal was coming for her charge.

Despite the personal pain it caused her, their joining was inevitable.

She should have been thrilled since her own agenda included her cousin’s marriage to Hoxton.

However, her own feelings forced her to reevaluate her plans.

Perhaps it would be better if she cut her association and found another position.

Tears welled in her eyes at the thought.

The entire room erupted with laughter as Roberta stabbed her sister, who was playing an evil pirate bent on mischief.

Lady Roxanne and Ava continued their harmonious duet, all traces of her earlier nerves gone.

Whether it was intentional or not, Serena had a feeling that Roxanne’s kindness had influenced Hoxton in a positive manner.

He’d been polite to her cousin, but the sheen of admiration in his eyes had been lacking until now.

Though Hoxton’s booming baritone laughter made her toes curl, she tried to ignore him. She wished the weekend were over so she could proceed with her life.

The music swelled, coming to a crescendo and signaling to the audience that the play was near its end. Rivaling any Drury Lane actor, Elizabeth dramatically clutched her forehead, stumbling backward on the ship’s bow before the pirate prince saved her.

With the last line hanging in the air, the children began to cheer themselves.

The performance was met with laughter and enthusiastic shouts of approval. Rising to his feet, Hoxton applauded along with the audience.

A flash of white against the stage, Rapscallion suddenly appeared on his perch, startling Serena.

Engrossed in conversation with Ava, Roxanne didn’t appear to notice initially.

With a muttered curse, Serena scrambled to her feet.

Hoxton stood at the row’s end, and she ran right into him.

Their eyes locked, revealing both longing and sorrow in his gaze.

Could they possibly be directed at her? Many emotions battled within her at the realization, yet she couldn’t afford to focus on any of them.

Roxanne’s well-deserved admiration from Hoxton was about to be jeopardized by her fear of birds.

“Beg pardon, but Rapscallion…” She pushed past him to the stage, the spicy scent of his shaving soap pulling at her senses. Her gaze locked on Roxanne, she ignored her own needs while waiting for the inevitable meltdown.

“Bloody hell,” Hoxton muttered from behind her.

As soon as Serena stepped onstage, she knew she’d made a mistake. Watching her, Rapscallion began his song: “Pretty boy, pretty, pretty, pretty boy. I am a pretty boy.”

“You are such a pretty boy.” Ava pointed to the bird, amusement lighting her slender face. The tears she’d shed had long since disappeared, and her usual exuberant nature showed.

Her face hidden from view, Roxanne craned her neck to see what the girl meant.

Serena walked faster, hoping to cut short the inevitable.

A loud bang came from the pianoforte where Roxanne’s hands rested.

Serena recognized the look on Roxanne’s face, her stomach roiling.

Roxanne shook her head, nearly tumbling from the bench in her need to escape the bird.

Serena arrived at her side and placed a comforting hand on her back.

After years of living together, the bond between them was strong.

She had learned to gauge her cousin’s moods, and right now, the need to bolt furrowed Roxanne’s brow.

That in itself would draw the countess’s wrath.

“He won’t hurt you,” she said, casting a glance at Lady Agatha.

Lady Imogene had engaged her in conversation, thus Serena was confident she hadn’t seen the slip. Hoxton looked on, his sharp gaze missing nothing. She prayed he couldn’t read her thoughts about him. Every time he looked at her, she had difficulty concentrating on the task at hand.

“He is very friendly.” Ava patted Roxanne on the arm and offered her an encouraging smile. Where she had been distraught before, a quiet confidence had taken its place. “You needn’t be afraid.”

“He has a sharp beak.” Roxanne shook her head, unconvinced.

“Unlike the parakeet, he isn’t a violent sort.

” Their grandmother’s parakeet might have scared Serena on the outside, but it had left a greater wound inside Roxanne’s head.

Any second, Serena expected Lady Agatha to notice the drama on the stage.

She needed to calm her cousin down or risk censure for both of them.

Even though Roxanne was upset, Lady Agatha would find a way to blame it on Serena. “You can trust that he won’t hurt you.”

Shaking her head, she fluttered her lashes, a shimmer of tears in her eyes.

Hoxton stood at the corner of the stage and watched their interaction.

His face was shadowed, so she couldn’t truly read his reaction.

Up until then, things were moving in the right direction.

The best he might do was pity Roxanne, the worst was to disdain her for her display of weakness.

Except, men often thought of women as weak, thus she wasn’t certain if her perception of the entire matter was biased or not.

“I think it best if I remove him from your presence until you can settle your nerves.” Hoxton lifted his arm and snapped his fingers at the bird.

Rapscallion bobbed his head and, spreading his wings, took flight, which caused Roxanne to let out a squeak at the sudden movement.

Her hand shot to her chest, the color draining from her face.

“You helped me, let me help you.” Ava sent an inquiring look to Hoxton before she clasped Roxanne’s hands in her own. The girl’s earlier breakdown seemed a thing of the past, and she’d regained her confidence. “Please pet him, Lady Roxanne. He is very friendly and won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Roxanne didn’t look convinced, but she straightened her shoulders and remained in her chair. Her lips barely parted as she instructed, “Bring him closer.”

Pride for her cousin swelled in Serena’s chest, and she offered Hoxton an encouraging nod.

She wanted to help Roxanne overcome her fears because it was what any decent person would do for another.

Her aunt had lost patience with her daughter over the fear of birds, and the longer it dragged on, the more Roxanne would suffer abuse over the matter.

Holding Hoxton’s gaze was difficult but necessary.

“Please, your grace, do as she requests.”

With a nod, he stepped forward, the bird on his arm. The brown coat tightened at his broad shoulders and the sleeve lifted to reveal his wrist. Rapscallion craned his neck back and forth, studying the scene before him. “I will hold him. Rest assured, he is very gentle.”

“His feet are black.” Licking her lips, Roxanne’s hand found Serena’s and squeezed, her nails unintentionally digging in.

Since moving to her aunt’s house, she’d cared for Roxanne in an informal capacity.

During times of sickness or sorrow, Serena had given her cousin solace and received it in kind.

The pain was a small sacrifice in Roxanne’s time of need.

“Calling them claws, instead of feet, is hardly more reassuring, I am afraid.” Serena kept her voice calm and tried to ignore the pain in her wrist. No doubt there’d be marks, but for now, she’d endure the discomfort.

A dry smile curved Roxanne’s lips, the fear lessening somewhat. “He is pretty and very white.”

“I am a pretty bird, a pretty bird.” Rapscallion bobbed his head, staring hard at Serena.

“He truly is vain. Will you sing with him?” Roxanne asked, her grip lessening on Serena’s wrist.

Serena had told her the story about singing with the bird. Like Ava, she wasn’t keen on playing in front of others, let alone singing. Nor could she forget that her aunt was in the room and wouldn’t be pleased to have Serena draw attention away from Roxanne. “I couldn’t.”

“Yes, please sing the song.” Hoxton’s quiet request drew her attention back to him. He’d been observing most of the exchange and said nary a word. That he chose to add his voice to the mix at that inopportune moment rattled her.

All eyes continued to be trained on her, giving her no choice but to capitulate. She exhaled a long breath and fought the heat that rose to her neck as she turned to look at the bird. “Facing our fears seems to be a common theme of late,” she said.

Amusement tilted Hoxton’s lips at her statement, those adorable dimples appearing. She found it difficult to deny him anything. “It would appear so, and like the rest of us, you will benefit from it.”

“I will do my best not to be offensive to your ears.” Grinning at his widening smile, she inhaled a deep breath and began the refrain in a shaking voice, “Pretty, pretty, pretty boy, pretty, pretty boy. To look upon your handsome face makes my heart leap with joy.”

“Happy, happy boy. Pretty boy.” Rapscallion bobbed back and forth, his head swaying from side to side. “Rapscallion is a pretty boy.”

Giggling, Ava began to play the tune on the pianoforte. Drawn to the music, the rest of the children ran over, their footsteps soft against the makeshift stage. A small crowd gathered, everyone watching her.

“Joy, joy, happy happy boy.” She maintained her focus on Rapscallion, not on Hoxton, who watched with the rest of them. “Pretty on his perch, his feathers white and pure, happy, happy bird.”

“Happy, happy bird,” Rapscallion mimed back.

Serena repeated the last verse before ending the song, “Happy happy bird.”

“Bravo, the song is as entertaining as I recall,” Hoxton said, admiration in his gaze.

Pleasure at his compliment warred with her need to blend into the background. She wasn’t deaf and knew her voice was pleasant. To have him comment on it warmed her heart.

“Please, sing some more?” the vicar’s son requested.

“Yes, more,” Elizabeth added.

Serena shook her head, secretly relieved that she didn’t have more verses. The more attention she took away from Roxanne, the greater the chances her aunt would notice. “I am afraid that is all that I composed. Perhaps Roxanne can play for us. She has a lovely voice.”

“Serena.” The countess’s sharp command startled her and everyone around them. The bird squawked and ruffled his feathers. Roxanne cringed at the sound and dropped her head to hide her reaction.

“Lady Agatha.” Serena’s stomach sank, dread settling into the pit of her core. Her aunt rarely noticed her in public unless she wanted something.

“Fetch my fan, then you are dismissed.” The woman returned to her conversation with Blackstone, dismissing Serena out of hand.

“I will have the servant fetch it for her.” A decided tick appeared in Hoxton’s jaw. “You are welcome to stay if you’d like. My aunt has ordered refreshments, and Cook made truffles.”

“That is kind of you, but I have tasks to attend to that can’t be put off.” Serena squeezed Roxanne’s shoulder. Her cousin flashed a sympathetic look. Both knew the repercussions if Serena didn’t do her aunt’s bidding. “Good night, all.”

Serena exited the room, the tears returning.

Humiliation warred with fury at both her aunt and Hoxton.

She didn’t want his pity, nor was she certain she could endure living in the same house with him.

It may be she needed to reevaluate her acceptance of Roxanne’s offer and find another position as soon as possible.

It might be painful to be apart from her dear cousin, but being close to Hoxton would be equally torturous.