Page 6 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)
“The truth is that, for all her outward appearance of gregariousness, she is shy around those she truly wishes to impress.” Miss Deburgiak slowed her steps, her chest lifting from her exertion.
The military-themed coat nipped in her waist and was fastened up to the underside of her chin.
Not a hint of skin showed, however. Color enhanced her soft cheeks, and with the garden behind her, she looked very fetching.
“Please do not let that shyness disqualify her from your choice of bride. I assure you, she will rise to the task.”
“Your defense of her is admirable.” A shot of relief cut into his earlier uncertainty. He knew well that Lady Roxanne was shy and that his reservations might have more to do with himself than with her.
Miss Deburgiak stopped completely next to the large sundial where the path branched into four other walkways. She raised entrancing eyes to his. Glittering irises contracted. The blackness of her pupils reminded him of the honeybees buzzing around them. “May I speak frankly?”
He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting at her question. Thus far, she had been unafraid to speak her mind. “Please do.”
Even with his permission, she wavered, hesitation marking her brow. “I don’t wish to speak ill of anyone, but the countess doesn’t allow Lady Roxanne to deviate from what she deems acceptable conversation.”
“She is a very formidable woman, and no, I am not blind to that.” The tension in his shoulders loosened, his gaze sweeping her upturned face.
Thus far, he hadn’t been impressed with the Countess’s abrasiveness.
A crow called to another in the distance, the soft cooing of a dove barely discernible from its perch in one of the trees.
“Then I beg you to not judge Roxanne too quickly and give her more opportunities to show her true self.” She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, a smudge of dirt on the kid glove. The book he’d lent her was clutched in her other palm.
He refrained from the powerful urge to comfort her. She’d made herself plain, and carrying on a flirtation with her wasn’t acceptable. “I will take your words under advisement. Are you going anywhere in particular?” he asked.
“No. I, well, I wanted to take a walk, but if that sundial is correct, I had best head back inside.” With a sheepish laugh, she asked, “Which way is it? I am afraid I got turned around.”
“I shall walk you back, I—”
“Please, do not trouble yourself. If you merely point the way, I will find my own way back.” She moved the book to her other hand, the breeze blowing the ribbon on her bonnet.
“The fastest route is to your right.” Hoxton wanted to argue, but she’d already put him in his place for overstepping her boundaries. “Simply follow it and you will reach the side of the house.”
“Thank you, your grace.” With a quick curtsy, she left his company, her shoes crunching on the walkway.
Hoxton stared at her for a long moment, wanting to call her back and, at the same time, hold her at a distance.
The strange infatuation he’d developed seemed to have happened overnight.
Thus far, they had had an interesting conversation, but he had had many such conversations with women of his acquaintance.
A large raven settled on his shoulder, startling him.
Yet another of his rescues. “What are you doing out of the aviary? You are injured, you silly bird.” He petted the bird’s neck and moved in the opposite direction from Miss Deburgiak.
The search for the wrens’ nest would have to wait until he delivered the raven back to her handler.
Birds had been his only interest of late, but that had changed.
The expectations of finding a bride must be getting to him.
His conversation with Miss Deburgiak filled his thoughts.
It was unfair to expect an instant connection with Lady Roxanne.
Yet he had with Miss Deburgiak. To be fair to Lady Roxanne, he must stop being impatient and give her time to warm up to him.
If that didn’t happen, he’d set his sights on another potential bride, a practical woman with no expectations of romantic entanglements.
Only one woman came immediately to mind.
Miss Deburgiak wasn’t the conventional choice, nor would his grandmother approve of a marriage to the daughter of a tradesman, no matter her mother’s exalted paternity.
Of course, his grandmother wasn’t making the ultimate decision.
He released a long sigh. Throughout his years on the battlefield, he’d made swift choices and never questioned them.
Now, it seemed that’s all he had been doing.
When had he become so wishy-washy? He had promised her that he’d court Roxanne, and he owed the young lady his undivided attention until the end of the house party.
Except he had become distracted and no matter how much he wished otherwise, Serena had implanted herself in his mind and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d taken roots there.