Page 32 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

Hoxton had spent a restless night debating what, if anything, he would say to Serena.

He couldn’t hide from his past, and he wasn’t na?ve enough to believe she wouldn’t have questions.

“Yes, he served under my command as did my groom, the coachman, and a few others. They were all soldiers who lost their way and needed gainful employment.”

“How very noble of you.” She slipped her forearm through his, her full breasts soft against his arm. He eyed her profile, waiting for her to expound. She remained quiet, her footsteps in sync with his.

Birds continued to serenade them, and the faint but distinctive cooing of a dove somewhere close by caught his ear.

He rather enjoyed having her beside him as they traversed the familiar garden path.

The quiet continued between them, signaling to him that it was up to him to carry on the conversation.

Either he could change the subject, or try explaining himself, if just a bit.

“I tried to do my part. They weren’t as fortunate as I to have a title to fall back on. ”

“You have done right by them.” She cast him an understanding smile before she stopped to smell one of the roses that lined the path. “You are very fortunate to have a grand title, and they are fortunate that you have used it for the greater good.”

“I could say the same of you,” Hoxton said, watching her inhale the fragrance, her eyes closing. She hadn’t been thrilled when he asked for her hand, which still rankled. He pushed the petty thought out of his mind. Like him, she’d been in shock over what happened. “You are a duchess.”

“I am very fortunate as well, and I will not take my responsibilities to the title lightly.” Resuming their walk, she kept her profile to him, the bonnet shadowing her face preventing him from reading her expression.

“Aunt Imogene is well-versed with the locals and will be a valuable resource for you.” Hoxton was pleased that the conversation drifted away from his past. He guided her around a large topiary and stumbled on a broken cobble.

Pain radiated up his leg, and he grunted, releasing his hold on Serena.

Staring up at the blue sky, he willed the discomfort to subside.

“What happened?” Serena asked, alarm making her voice sound breathy. She settled a hand on his sleeve, her fingers squeezing. “Are you hurt?”

“I wrenched my ankle.” Hoxton tried to slow his breathing, the mortification of earlier rushing back twofold. He seemed to be always embarrassing himself in front of her. “I will have to have the gardener fix the walkway.”

“Should I fetch a servant to help you?” she asked.

“I am perfectly capable of walking. I am not an invalid.” Hoxton snapped the last word out. The last thing a man wanted from a woman he was besotted with was pity. He didn’t wish for her to have a bad opinion of him or think he was less of a man.

She raised her head, her brow furrowed. “I am only trying to help.”

Once again, guilt revealed itself, and he inhaled, making sure to soften his stance. None of this was her fault. “I know and I appreciate your consideration. You needn’t worry about me. I will be fine.”

“I worry about you. I am your friend.” With a shy smile, she lifted her lashes. Earnest yellow eyes, the color of an owl, held his stare. “At least I hope you consider me a friend.”

“I do.” He’d valued her friendship since the first day they’d met. They had developed a bond over their mutual likes, but he couldn’t say whether he loved her. He definitely desired her and enjoyed being with her.

“As your friend and your wife, you can confide in me and I will not judge.” The gently spoken words bolstered his affection for her.

He’d be spending the rest of his life with Serena, and he wanted to have a comfortable camaraderie with her. Disclosing his entire past was something he wasn’t ready to do. “I will try to do the same for you. I can’t guarantee I will succeed.”

“Fair enough.” Wry laughter flowed from her alluring mouth, and he used his knuckle to lift her chin. He bent his head and kissed her smiling lips.

She leaned into him, and the pain he’d experienced dimmed.

His desire for her flamed brighter. She settled her hands on his chest, tilting her head to allow him greater access to her lips.

Passion burned bright between them, and he skimmed his hands up her sides, wanting to touch her enticing body.

She had been receptive in his arms last night, and today she was as eager as he to share more intimacies.

He lifted his head, his thumb brushing over her nipple beneath the thick fabric of her gown.

She pressed her hips into his and licked her bottom lip, her dewy-eyed stare full of want.

“Shall we go to our room?” he asked, continuing to stroke her breast.

She arched her back, her breasts pushing more fully into his hand. His wife was ripe for seduction. “Yes, please.” A blush colored her cheeks, and the breathy quality of her voice spoke to him on a deeper level.

After giving her a soft kiss, he released her. Hoxton offered her his arm again, enthusiastic to get her inside and alone. He’d left her in a rush the night before, but this time, he’d be a bit more strategic. He didn’t wish to break the fragile bond growing between them.

“How is your ankle?” She rested heavily against his side, the sweetness of her perfume mingling with warm woman.

“It is stiff, but manageable.” His ankle protested the first few steps, the stiffness of his hessian boots providing stability. The topic once again landed in a place he didn’t wish to visit. Whether or not she did it on purpose, he couldn’t judge.

“You have quite the scar.”

Of course she had seen it the night before.

He hadn’t been concerned about exposing the injury in his pursuit of bedding his wife.

“Yes, for a while the doctor thought it was irreparable and wanted to lop it off.” He shuddered thinking about that awful time in his life.

The circle of their conversation dampened his once urgent need.

He didn’t wish to dwell on the past but look forward to the future.

Serena sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers squeezing his arm. “How frightening. You are fortunate indeed.”

Luck had followed him on the battlefield, but some of his fellow soldiers weren’t as blessed. “It pains me occasionally, but that’s to be expected.”

The physical scars he carried weren’t the problem. Many people recovered fully from their injuries. The dreams, however, weren’t normal, and he hated himself for showing such weakness. He cut to the right on another path, this one leading toward the side of the house.

In a quiet voice, she asked, “Would I be too forward to ask how you received your injury?”

The simple question was the hardest to answer. “My horse was shot several yards from the battle. The poor animal died instantly, and my leg became trapped in the stirrup.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening with shock. “How horrifying.”

Words couldn’t describe the sheer terror and pain that had existed inside his head for the fifteen odd minutes he’d been trapped. “War, unto itself, is horrifying.”

With a nod, she exhaled a shaky breath. “It is a necessary evil, I suppose.”

“Hundreds of thousands of lives were lost because of Napoleon’s ambitions.” Bitterness tightened his throat. Hoxton had lost most of his regiment to the French, and it had taken a large force from England and their allies to stop his destructive army. “It was not necessary.”

“It is because of brave men like you that the emperor was stopped.” Serena offered him a wavering smile, upset still prevalent in her vivid stare. The tone of her voice alarmed him more than her words. She was gazing at him like he was some sort of hero. He was far from it.

“I am no hero.” While the battle had raged on, he’d been stuck under a horse, soaked in the animal’s blood.

He’d survived because fate had trapped him under that horse.

The regiment lost thousands of men that day and for naught.

Fury shot through his core because if he let the true emotions through, he’d drop to his knees in agony for the others who didn’t come home.

“I will give that designation to other men more worthy than myself.”

“I think—” Serena stopped speaking mid-sentence.

A female servant rushed down the path and waved at them, giving him a much-needed reprieve from his warring sentiments. “Your Grace, I am glad I found you,” the young maid called out.

Hoxton halted on the path and willed his volatile temper to subside. Years had passed, and he still had difficulty allowing himself to remember the devastation that war had wrought.

“What is it?” Serena asked.

By the maid’s frantic manner, she bore disturbing news. Her round cheeks flushed, the plump maid placed her hand on her heart. “Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess, Lady Diana, is here. She calls upon the duchess, Lady Serena.”

“She is calling on me?” Serena snapped her head around and stared at him, the color draining from her face. She swayed the tiniest bit, and he reached out to touch her arm, certain she might faint.

“She asked specifically for you, yes,” the maid said.

Since his wife didn’t seem like the fainting sort, Hoxton could well imagine her panic.

He must calm her down and provide assurance, although he, himself, wasn’t certain what kind of reception she’d get from his grandmother.

However, no matter what happened, he would stand by his decision to marry Serena. “Thank you, you may go.”

With a bob, the maid went back the way she’d come.

Serena plucked at the skirt of her white morning dress, horror twisting her lips. Eyes shimmering with what looked like tears, she said, “I can’t meet your grandmother like this. I have to change my gown and…what will I say to her? I’ve never met a duchess before, and she is your grandmother and…”

“Please stop fretting.” Hoxton took her hands in his.

Lifting them to his lips, he placed a kiss on her knuckles.

He had expected his grandmother to come after she received his note and she hadn’t disappointed.

The fact that she was here didn’t change anything.

Serena was still his wife. He slipped his palm into hers and walked briskly to the house.

“You don’t understand, I must change my dress.” Serena sounded near tears. “Without Roxanne’s guidance, I don’t know what gown will even be acceptable to meet a duchess.”

“You look presentable, and even if you didn’t, there is no time to change your gown.” His heart softened toward her. His grandmother was a formidable woman, but he had faith Serena could stand on her own. “Besides, you are a duchess yourself.”

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, a tear falling down her cheek. To see her this distraught was a shock to his senses. She’d seemed self-assured, but not in this.

“Always.” He walked her back to the house, gearing himself up for the interview that would either have a happy ending or be a disaster.