Page 27 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

“The last portrait is the one I wanted to show you.” Hoxton linked his fingers behind his back to keep from touching her.

He had found the perfect wedding gift and wanted to present it to her.

The portrait in question was of him as a child with his mother.

“My mother was a lady-in-waiting for Queen Charlotte.”

Serena’s face lit up, and she stepped closer to the portrait of his mother holding him in the drawing room at Kensington Palace. “How old were you?”

“I was three.” Hoxton continued to watch her face, not looking at the portrait. “I assume the likeness was accurate, although my cheeks appear to be a bit too chubby for my tastes.”

Grinning, she rocked back on her heels. “You look adorable.”

She looked adorable enough to kiss. He kept his hands behind his back, although he itched to ravish her on the spot. “When you told me who your father was, the name was familiar. In the bottom corner, you will see the artist’s signature.”

Serena clutched at his sleeve and swayed, her face almost nose to nose with the painting now. “My father painted this?”

Pleased beyond measure, he clasped her hand in his, giving her support. A tear traced down her cheek, and she beamed up at him. “This is such a wonderful surprise. Why didn’t you tell me he painted you?”

“I didn’t realize he had until Mrs. Kelly pointed it out.” Hoxton placed his arm around her shoulders to draw her to his side. To be able to touch her at will was an added boon to marriage.

“It is a welcome gift. Thank you.” She curled into him without hesitation, her arm sliding about his waist. They stared at the portrait together, neither saying a word.

The whisper of footsteps drew his attention. A maid had come down the hall, seen them, and then rushed back the way she came.

“We had best finish our tour of the house. I am sure Imogene and Ava are anxious to greet you.” He kept his arm around her shoulder until they reached the staircase, their footsteps creaking on the wood. “This leads to the family quarters of the house.”

The oak staircase consisted of three stories, each with a wide landing that boasted a stained glass window. The elaborate green wallpaper complemented the well-polished wooden accents. “This house was built in 1701 by the first Marquess of Brimley before he was elevated to the Hoxton dukedom.

“It is lovely.” She craned her neck to stare out the window overlooking the garden. “I see the folly. I was wondering where it was located from the house. I could never quite see it from Roxanne’s chamber window.”

“The more traveled paths are on the public side of the house. From this side, as you can see, the garden paths are still under construction, but Imogene wanted a folly, so Herbert expedited her request.”

“I wish I had met him. He sounds like an interesting man.” Serena allowed him to guide her up the third flight of stairs, where it opened to a hallway that overlooked the second story. The paintings on this floor were more landscape in nature.

“He was the best of uncles and a man of high moral character.” Hoxton missed his counsel, and although he was confident in his abilities to please his wife in the boudoir, Serena was a lady, not a woman who plied her trade as a mistress to men of his stature.

He wasn’t proud of his past, but he wasn’t ashamed of it either.

However, he’d never had a wife before, and the concept of living with one was uncomfortably outside his perceived realm of competence.

“I wanted to show you my favorite room in the house.” He turned to the left and opened a door.

An elaborate closet, decorated in shades of blue and gold, featured two sofas and a reading nook where he took advantage of some much-needed quiet time.

The closet overlooked the garden. He pointed to a building just by the stables.

“There’s the sanctuary that you have yet to see. ”

“I look forward to doing so.” She entered and instantly started to laugh in a delightful way. “You have more than one sanctuary! Look at the lovely pictures of all the birds. Did you commission them to be painted?”

While Hoxton wanted to show her this room, a part of him had been shy about it, which was odd.

He loved his birds and liked to show them off, but he also kept it as a place of sanctuary for himself.

If too many people visited it, he would be obliged to entertain them.

She was his wife and would have free rein of the entire house and gardens.

“No, Imogene painted them. Do you paint? As a lady, I assume so.” He hadn’t asked about her hobbies, nor did he know much about her likes and dislikes. Their earlier discourses revolved around him and Roxanne. He needed to remedy that.

“I have a fair hand, but it is not my forte. Roxanne is proficient at it, of course, but I am not as talented as Imogene.” She turned to the second wall and clapped her hands with joy. The way her face lit up made him smile. “Let me guess, these are done by Ava and the twins.”

He nodded in reply until he realized she couldn’t see him. Shaking his head at his foolishness, he moved closer and placed his hand on her lower back as she studied the paintings the girls had done over the years.

“While they aren’t perfect, to me, they are the most beautiful pictures in all my collection of paintings.” He slipped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he inspected the paintings with her.

“I agree, although I have yet to see all the paintings in your possession. Thus far, aside from these, you can easily guess my favorite.” She pressed back, her hair tickling his nose.

The familiar floral scent of her perfume incited his passions, and he kissed her cheek, wanting to turn her around and ravish her on the spot.

“Is it your favorite because your father painted it, or is it the subject matter?” Hoxton trailed his lips along her jawline.

“Both.” With a laugh, she relaxed deeper into his embrace.

The rhythm of her breathing said she wasn’t unaffected by his touch.

Memories of their kiss in the cellar, coupled with the brief encounter in the carriage, had fired his blood.

She had responded to his kiss with passion, thus he knew she wasn’t averse to more intimacy.

“I have a question for you, and I pray that you answer me honestly.” With the way she was melting in his arms, concentrating was difficult.

“I promise I will answer as honestly as possible.”

“What is your favorite color?” Hoxton continued to place tiny kisses down her jawline.

Silence hung between them for a long moment while he waited for her response.

If things continued along their current trend, he’d be hard-pressed to keep his lust under check.

Proximity to her felt like delightful torment.

“You asked the hardest question first, didn’t you?” She lay her head back against his shoulder, her breathing more uneven.

“It is an important question, probably the most important question I shall ever ask in your entire life.” Hoxton tried to keep his mind clear and not give in to the need to sweep her up and seduce her on the sofa behind them.

She laughed at his teasing and sighed. “It is spring.”

“Spring is a broad compilation of colors.” He shifted on his feet, tightening his embrace.

Her bottom came to nestle against his groin, and his desire for her continued to spark a flame of need.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t sweep her away to their room because his aunt and cousin had organized a formal dinner that included the vicar who’d married them, his wife, and a few other local gentry.

Formality was tiring, yet he wanted her to have a proper introduction to society.

No matter how their marriage came about, he was proud of his new wife, regardless of how she felt about herself.

“Spring is newness and sunshine.” She placed her hands on top of his, her skin soft and tempting.

“Yellow then?” He continued to hold her, unable to resist exploring her silky skin.

Her hands tightened on his, and he knew he was moving along the right path.

He slid his lips ever closer to the shell of her delicate ear.

She wore no earrings. Indeed, she was unadorned with any kind of jewelry. He would have to remedy that soon.

“Green, yellow, pink, purple, yellow…” she trailed off, tilting her chin to give him greater access.

“Yellow twice?” Grinning, he continued seducing his wife. Even though he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t go there, at this moment, he seemed unable to stop himself.

“Every color is beautiful to me, and I can’t say that I have a favorite, but when I look at green, it makes me smile. And if I look at yellow, it makes me happy. And if I look at blue, it feels serene, almost like a musical composition to put one into a state of perfect being.”

“You wax poetically about colors. What other things do you like?” He tugged at her earlobe with his teeth, soothing it with his tongue seconds later.

The steady rise and fall of her breath and the warmth of her body pressed into his only added to his desire for her.

He didn’t really want to talk, he wanted to kiss her, but this was a time to explore her mind, not her body. That would come tonight.

“It is hard to say what other things I like when you’re doing that.” She released a breathy sigh and fell back into him, allowing him to support her weight.

“You are telling me that you like this?” His voice came out huskier than before. For someone who didn’t want to give in to seduction, he wasn’t doing a good job of resisting.

“It is blue.” The simple word spoke volumes. He turned her in the circle of his arms, wanting to kiss her willing lips.