Page 18 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

Hoxton walked outside to find the open carriage waiting.

The driver, one of the former soldiers under his command, tipped his hat in greeting.

Hoxton nodded in response, more anxious than he should be about the upcoming outing.

Sunshine replaced the rain, heralding a new day.

After his revelation the previous day, he hoped to obtain Lady Roxanne’s hand by day’s end.

He had informed the viscount, via note, of his plan to visit and formally request the gentleman’s daughter’s hand in marriage.

Although it was the correct decision, his past traumas made him hesitant about marrying.

Chattering voices drew his attention. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Lady Roxanne and Miss Deburgiak exiting Hoxton House.

Lady Roxanne beamed at him with her customary smile.

Miss Deburgiak simply cast a tentative glance in his direction before lowering her eyes.

Lady Agatha had humiliated her the previous night, and the memory still piqued his temper.

He had been more than pleased when his aunt informed him that Lady Agatha would not be coming on their outing today.

“It’s such a lovely day,” Lady Roxanne said, her blonde curls bouncing under her fashionable bonnet.

“It is indeed.” He shook off his annoyance with Lady Agatha but couldn’t shake off his outrage. Thus far, Lady Roxanne was nothing like her mother. If she had been, he’d never consider asking for her hand. “It is a pleasant day to be outside.”

Lady Roxanne merely nodded unconvincingly.

In past conversations, she’d said she wasn’t fond of being outdoors and preferred to be inside.

He was the opposite. While their difference of opinion on the matter was disappointing, attempting to have everything in common was impossible.

He was confident that once they were married, things would even out for them. At least he hoped so.

He aided Lady Roxanne into the carriage and then made to assist Miss Deburgiak.

His pulse picked up the tiniest bit at the thought of touching her.

The moment their hands touched, an electric shock passed between them.

He glanced up in time to see her eyes widen and a telling color flush her cheeks.

Voices faded into the background, and the sunlight seemed overly bright.

Everything slowed down, and for a breath, it was just them.

Then time sped up as she settled into her seat.

Hoxton released her hand, although his heart screamed not to.

He stepped back, needing to put some distance between them.

Stiller emerged from the house at a trot, his blond hair moving gently in the breeze.

As usual, he appeared rested and enthusiastic.

The man was hard not to like, and a friendship felt possible outside of their competition.

Blackstone and Daisy left the shelter of the house. She looked miserable. Blackstone looked right past Hoxton to Lady Roxanne. He unceremoniously released Daisy’s arm and crossed to the other side of the carriage to sit opposite Lady Roxanne.

Not to be outdone, Stiller sat beside him and across from Miss Deburgiak.

Daisy came to stand next to Hoxton, the feather in her hat blowing in the soft breeze.

“Grandmother and Imogene will be disappointed that my suitors are clearly not interested in me.” A pleased grin touched Daisy’s lips.

Hoxton shook his head at her antics. He had a suspicion that while others tried to manipulate her, she was the one pulling the strings.

With her handsome appearance and her fortune, any man would be tripping over himself to ask for her hand. Curiously, they seemed to shun her.

“That was rather rude of him not to help you into the carriage.” Hoxton rocked back on his heel and winced before righting himself. The injury often throbbed with the most innocent actions. He was still young, but at times, he felt like an old man.

“Do not be too harsh on Blackstone, I told him I would be riding today.” Daisy merely shrugged and lifted her hand to shade her eyes. A servant rounded the house, leading a horse with a side saddle on its back. “I miss being in the saddle.”

Since he shared her love of horses, he understood her well. “If that is your wish.”

Though partly obscured by a cloud, the sun revealed mostly clear skies in the surrounding area. The journey to the castle was a fifteen-minute horseback ride or a thirty-minute carriage ride. Lady Roxanne rarely rode, and he was unsure about Miss Deburgiak.

Based on his observations, Lady Agatha treated her like a servant. If it wasn’t for Lady Roxanne’s generosity, he had no doubt Miss Deburgiak would be wearing threadbare clothing. Although impressed by Lady Roxanne, the prospect of Lady Agatha as his mother-in-law held little appeal.

Assisting Daisy onto her horse, he watched as she adjusted the reins, her face partially obscured by her stylish blue hat. “You may ride, but you must stay with us,” he said.

“Very well, cousin,” she said

Hoxton mounted his own horse. The bay had been one of his uncle’s favorite mounts.

Encouraged by his uncle to pursue ornithology, Hoxton also rediscovered his love of horses.

To this day, he felt remorse for losing his beloved steed on the battlefield.

The animal hadn’t asked to be dragged into war.

As the carriage departed, he tried to forget those memories.

Daisy had positioned herself on Lady Roxanne’s side of the carriage, leaving him to rein his horse next to where Miss Deburgiak and Stiller were seated.

If he truly were enamored of Lady Roxanne, wouldn’t he feel the need to exchange places with his cousin?

He was perfectly content where he was by Miss Deburgiak, and that, more than anything, made him waver once more.

Thinking about her was becoming a bad habit, one he didn’t truly wish to shake and that frightened him more than anything.

His cousin and Lady Roxanne were becoming friends, and they steered the conversation to London and the season’s activities. Miss Deburgiak’s profile to him, she refrained from joining the conversation and stared straight ahead.

Stiller seemed captivated by the conversation about haberdashery while Blackstone looked bored. Hoxton had to hand it to the chap, he was persistent.

Miss Deburgiak turned her head, and their eyes met.

Guilt and desire warred inside him. He was about to propose to Lady Roxanne, and while the decision was sound last night, in the light of day, his heart rebelled.

His head, however, was making the choices.

“My young cousins are still talking about your song. They would like to do a play based on ‘Pretty Bird.’”

The flush on her cheeks deepened, adding to her attractiveness. With her sooty lashes and striking eyes, he couldn’t look away.

“It was a rather silly song, so I can see why the children would be enamored by it.” She offered an endearingly crooked smile, a gleam of mischief in her amber eyes.

“Do not underestimate your talent.” He wasn’t a child, yet he was enamored of her.

Lady Roxanne’s soft laughter drifted on the wind, followed by Daisy’s deeper tones.

Both women were of a similar age, and if someone had asked him whether he’d marry one of his cousin’s contemporaries, he’d simply say she was too young.

Blackstone said something that Hoxton didn’t catch, which seemed to make the women laugh even harder.

The man was a good decade older than himself, yet he saw nothing wrong with courting a young miss.

Perhaps it was because Hoxton felt older than his years, or the ladies lacked the maturity he admired in a woman like Miss Deburgiak.

Society was obsessed with youth, and although Miss Deburgiak was twenty-three, she was mature in her manners.

The horse shook its mane and sidestepped, drawing Hoxton’s attention back to the animal. A garden snake slithered into the deeper grass lining the carriage path. The horse shuddered once more and fell back into pace with the carriage.

A strong wind blew from the north, and he glanced up to see more clouds moving in.

“Oh dear.” Miss Deburgiak shaded her eyes while looking into the sky. “Do you think it will rain today?”

“The weather here is fairly predictable. Since the castle is to the south, I have no reason to believe the rain will follow us.” Since returning home, he’d traveled every inch of ground on the estate. “Lady Roxanne tells me you often walk in the rain.”

“I like to walk on the grounds, and if I let the weather stop my meanderings, I would be trapped inside all winter.” With a widening grin, she added, “I have learned from experience that I may get wet, but I will eventually dry.”

He laughed at her quip, his own mood lightening at her teasing. “That is a very pragmatic outlook.”

“I am a pragmatic lady.” She turned to answer a question from Lady Roxanne, looking away from him once more. Perhaps, moving forward, it would be best for them not to carry on any private conversations. Every time he spoke with her, he second-guessed himself.

His grandmother wanted the match. Added to the countess and his aunt, the pressure to marry Lady Roxanne was great.

He couldn’t care less what Lady Agatha wanted, for he disliked her more and more each day.

However, he loved his grandmother, and while he appreciated her concern over his welfare, he drew the line at giving her absolute control over his future.

Granted, he needed to consider his endeavor to convince the queen to support building the veterans hospital but he was a duke, and he wasn’t without influence himself.

Of course, the queen had wished for the match, which could complicate things. However, he couldn’t accept defeat.

Many enlisted soldiers didn’t share his fortunate circumstances. Any medical care they received was provided by their regiment, and several were unable to follow the regiment. With Grandmother’s influence with the queen, he hoped to offer more aid than a financial stipend.

Her request had instigated his decision to find a wife, and Lady Roxanne had been her first and only choice.

He chanced a glance at Miss Deburgiak, a woman with great appeal who was destined to remain on his mind.

His grandmother might think Lady Roxanne the only woman suitable for him, but he wasn’t so sure.

Confusion once again muddled his mind. Until this marriage mess, he’d been sure of his future.

Frustration raised its ugly head, and he felt the need to clear his head. “I will ride ahead and make sure the bridge wasn’t washed out by the rain,” he said, glad for an excuse to leave the party, if just for a few minutes.

Pushing the horse into a gallop, he let the wind whip through his hair.

Once the business of the proposal was over, he needed to get used to the idea of being married.

His life was no longer his own, and he’d come to terms with that the second his uncle fell ill.

Had he simply fathered a son, Hoxton wouldn’t be obligated to marry at all.

Except his fate was sealed, and although his future was uncertain, there was no alternative but to live it.