Page 33 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

“Well, Hoxton, what do you have to say for yourself?” Lady Diana shifted her gaze between Serena and Hoxton in the green drawing room, disapproval in the grim twist of her lips. Thin to the point of emaciation, her frailness belied her obstinate nature.

Serena stood frozen to the spot; the usual pleasure she derived from the elegant room with its vaulted ceilings and bright sunlight remained absent.

She’d had such high hopes that she and Lady Diana might form a bond, only to have the fantasy dashed.

Her knees weak and her stomach churning, she wished to be anywhere but where she was, being judged once again.

“I will start with good afternoon, Grandmother.” Hoxton moved to her side and kissed her cheek affectionately. Although he appeared casual enough, tension stiffened his shoulders. Despite his earlier assurances, she didn’t believe that he believed his own words.

Rapscallion perched on top of his cage and clicked his beak, his gaze locked on Serena. Since the first moment she’d met the bird, he had taken a liking to her.

“You can’t charm your way out of this one.” Although Lady Diana harrumphed, there was no denying the smile that tilted her mouth at her grandson.

The sentiment didn’t include Serena, however.

“I wasn’t aware I needed to charm you.” Given his familiarity and relationship to Lady Diana, he was in a much better place and had an advantage over Serena.

He held out his hand to Serena, a silent message passing between them.

He had promised to remain by her side, and she would hold him to it.

Warm fingers enveloped hers, giving her strength.

While she wanted to stand on her own two feet, hers was a precarious position.

She wasn’t na?ve enough to think she could brave the duchess’s wrath without Hoxton’s support.

He tucked her hand into his arm and kept his palm over hers.

The solidarity he showed was most welcome.

“I would like to properly introduce you to my wife, Serena,” Hoxton said to his grandmother.

“Serena…pretty bird…pretty bird.” Rapscallion sing-songed, causing all heads to turn in his direction. “Ser..en..a.”

Lady Diana’s disapproval returned with a tight-lipped glare at her grandson.

She never once looked at Serena, but continued to stare at Hoxton.

The insult couldn’t be more blatant. Serena fought the threat of tears and swallowed.

Crying wasn’t an option. Shoulders squared, she stared at a portrait on the far wall of a man on a horse. Pride kept her upright.

“Therein lies the crux of the matter. Lady Agatha is most upset on her daughter’s behalf,” Lady Diana said.

“I made no promises to either lady.” Hoxton lifted his stubborn chin, his defense of Serena heartwarming. The hand he held over hers tightened, his rigid frame becoming more pronounced. Lady Diana might be intimidating, but Hoxton held his own. He never looked more determined, nor outraged.

Her heart melted more, and the love she had for him bloomed inside her chest.

“What of your obligation to your title?” Lady Diana rapped her cane on the floor, the thump dulled by the thick carpet.

Serena jumped at the abrupt display of anger, her eyes darting between Hoxton and Lady Diana.

Hoxton always seemed calm and in control in most situations.

To see the dots of color rise into his cheeks spoke of his upset.

Eyes blazing, he spoke through clenched lips, “I am fulfilling my obligation to my title. Serena is my wife and the new duchess. You wished for me to marry, and I married Serena.”

“Serena is a pretty bird.” Rapscallion was not to be left out of the conversation. “Pretty pretty bird.”

Serena stifled a hysterical laugh at the bird’s commentary until Lady Diana snapped her eyes in her direction.

Despite a stomach tied in knots, determination surged inside her.

She felt rather like a cow at market under the woman’s harsh inspection.

Sadly, the slight widening of Lady Diana’s eyes as her stare settled on her top lip and nose wasn’t new.

She resisted the urge to turn her head and present her left side.

Lady Diana would smell fear, and she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing her break down.

Brow furrowed, Lady Diana looked down her regal nose at Serena. Her silver hair was artfully styled, not a hint of color in the strands. A pale yellow turban accented the deep brown of her disapproving eyes. “Your father was in trade.”

“Her grandfather was an earl,” Hoxton said.

“Your mother’s father.” Lady Diana pointed out the obvious. “What of your father’s father?”

“Like my father, he was also a well-respected portraitist in his native country of the Netherlands.” Serena wished her voice were stronger.

Her aunt was fond of focusing on her father’s history, but Serena had two parents, and she would never be ashamed of her father.

He was a good and decent man and an excellent father.

“You might have seen the portrait my father painted of Queen Charlotte and her daughters. It is my understanding that it is displayed in the family wing of the palace.”

Recognition lit Lady Diana’s eyes, and the harshness softened the slightest bit. She leaned back in her seat. Age had formed lines around her eyes and mouth, but her gown was youthful. Roxanne had mentioned that the duchess had a fondness for fashion. “I have. It is Her Majesty’s favorite.”

Pride warmed Serena’s heart, and she nodded, fighting back a new threat of tears at the reminder of her father. “I am pleased to know you viewed it. He often said it was his greatest accomplishment. Other than being a father to my brother Brandon and myself, of course.”

“Hmm.” Lady Diana continued to stare at Serena, her expression unreadable.

The silence following in the wake of the word deafened Serena, and she almost wished for Rapscallion to say something to break the growing tension.

Hoxton continued to stand by her side, a rock in a stormy sea.

A muscle worked in his jaw, his unhappiness evident in the stiffness of his frame.

Just fifteen minutes past, he had been kissing her in the garden.

The passionate man had disappeared for the moment.

He looked every inch the commanding gentleman.

Some men would have caved to his grandmother’s will, but he stood his ground.

All heads turned at a loud commotion in the hallway. Ava and Imogene entered, still wearing their outerwear.

“Pretty bird, pretty bird.” Rapscallion became even more animated at the sight of the girl.

“Grandmamma,” Ava shouted in an unladylike fashion.

“Ava.” Lady Diana’s countenance transformed at the sight of her granddaughter.

The difference in her demeanor was bittersweet.

Without a doubt, Aunt Agatha was behind the animosity directed toward Serena.

Why else would Lady Diana dislike her without once meeting her?

Serena had discovered the world’s cruelty, and apparently, it wasn’t through torturing her.

Hoxton leaned near and whispered, “You are doing fine. Do not let her intimidate you.”

That was easier said than accomplished, but Serena nodded in acknowledgment.

She’d lived with her aunt for ten years and had faced worse abuse than what the duchess wielded.

Serena hadn’t wished to impress her aunt.

She certainly hadn’t impressed Lady Diana.

Her stomach sank, and she fought the rush of bile to her throat.

A servant began taking their outerwear, the lively chatter lessening her earlier tension.

Serena was glad for the distraction Ava provided.

The twins had gone to London with their elder sister, Daisy.

Hoxton continued to stand, unyielding in his promise to not leave her side.

Imogene shared a questioning look with him.

He merely shrugged at her silent query. Serena wished she could be as calm.

“Mother Diana, I wasn’t expecting you.” Imogene approached the older woman and placed a kiss on her cheek. Since meeting Imogene, the woman had found a place in Serena’s heart. Her calmness and support meant the world to her.

“I’ve come to meet the new duchess since my grandson neglected to inform me of his nuptials, and I had to hear the news through you.

” Lady Diana turned her attention back to Hoxton, ignoring Serena altogether.

In a way, she almost welcomed the slight, for it meant she could blend into the background.

“She has a name. It is Serena.” The cold clarity of Hoxton’s voice cut through the chatter, and all eyes turned to stare at him. His color was high once more, and his fingers in hers gripped tighter.

His grandmother narrowed her eyes, the entire room seeming to await her next move. The clock on the mantel chimed the hour, each ding a cringe-worthy second. “I have been here more than fifteen minutes and I have yet to be offered refreshments,” she snapped, her nostrils flaring.

“How remiss of me.” Serena motioned to the servant who had finished gathering their outerwear, her knees still weak and tension clutching at her core.

She was pleased to have something to do.

Yet she had no idea what the duchess liked to eat or drink, for that matter.

She prayed the servants would know. “Please bring refreshments for Lady Diana.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” The man bowed and let himself out of the room.

“Serena, will you have grandmother’s rooms readied?” Hoxton met her surprised stare with a tight smile. Once again, he was coming to her rescue.

His quiet assurance was the only thing keeping Serena grounded. Well, that and sheer willpower.

“I will speak with Mrs. Kelly.” Being a hostess was new to her, and she had failed miserably at her first attempt. In her defense, she’d been blindsided by the contempt from Lady Diana. Serena wanted any excuse to leave the room. Her nerves were on edge, and she needed to gain some peace.

“Imogene can take care of that.” Lady Diana gave her daughter-in-law a pointed stare. “We haven’t finished becoming acquainted.”

“Pretty pretty pretty bird, pretty pretty bird.” Rapscallion flew across the room in a trice, his weight settling on Serena’s shoulder.

He pressed his face to her cheek, his feathers soft and cool against her flushed skin.

Her nerves were on edge, and the bird’s support, although unintentional, was somewhat comforting.

“You are a pretty bird.” Laughing, Ava clapped her hands, innocent to the tension between the adults. “Rapscallion loves Serena. She sings to him.”

“Does she indeed?” Lady Diana stared pointedly at Serena. One silver eyebrow lifted, she clutched the head of her cane. “Well?”

Confusion muddied her thoughts. A trickle of wetness coursed down her back, and she rocked back on her heels, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

If possible, the flush encompassed her entire body, and she was afraid she might break out in hives.

Serena was best at composing music, not performing it. “You wish for me to sing?”

Hoxton shook his head before addressing his grandmother, each word clipped. “Leave off.”

“Please sing, cousin.” Ava hastened over and tugged at Serena’s hand, her freckled face upturned and her red curls bouncing. “Sing the ‘Pretty Bird’ song.”

“Perhaps after supper we can have a musicale,” Serena countered.

“Thank you, Serena.” Ava threw her arms around her waist. She was a very affectionate child, and her innocence helped ground Serena. She cupped the little girl’s cheek and, bending down, kissed her forehead. “I will sing only if you sing with me.”

Ava nodded before she stared up at Hoxton. “Will you sing with her?”

“I will turn the pages,” Hoxton replied before meeting Serena’s regard. The grim tilt to his lips spoke of his ongoing upset. “Please see Ava back to the nursery. I need to speak with my grandmother.”

She sensed it was on her behalf, and while she was glad to have a champion, she didn’t wish for him to become estranged. Family was important, and she knew he was fond of his, thus she would rather keep the peace than draw more attention to the unspoken insults.