The Secret Wallflower Society - Jillian Eaton Page 0,82

his wife for reference, but Lucas didn’t need to take it out of his pocket. This woman was clearly the one he had been sent to find; he’d be a fool to mistake her for anyone else.

And Lucas, while many other things, was not a fool.

The duchess’s hair was a shade lighter than the picture, he noted. Sable streaks intermingled with silky black in a loose coiffure that accentuated her delicate countenance. She had violet eyes framed with thick lashes, a tip-tilted nose, high cheekbones, and a mouth that was a tad top-heavy. To his disappointment, most of her body was concealed beneath a green shawl, but he could tell by the size of her wrists peeking out beneath the embroidered gold fringe that her bone structure was as slight as that of a song bird.

She was a tiny little thing, hardly bigger than a minute. And he wondered at the unexpected surge of protectiveness that roared within his chest, even as he stepped out of his hiding place and began to saunter towards her, his long stride making short work of the small garden.

“S-stop right there!” Her voice was an octave higher than where he suspected it normally resided, and full of barely-restrained panic. “I’m warning you!”

How darling. The kitten had claws. Or at least, she liked to pretend she did. But despite his amusement, Lucas couldn’t help but admire her bravery. It was obvious she was scared out of her wits.

And he wondered about that as well.

When Lucas had been a boy of twelve, long before he made a name for himself by murdering Mastiff, he’d taken up work at a livery stable. He had wanted to make an honest go of his life, or at least give it a shot. As he had always had an affinity for animals, he’d decided unsaddling and grooming the horses of rich noblemen would suit him. And if he occasionally slipped a shilling out of a pocket or two, well, who was the wiser?

The job hadn’t lasted for more than four months, but there was one horse he would always remember. Opal had been of Arabian descent, a gleaming chestnut with a dished nose and bright, inquisitive brown eyes. He got in the habit of carrying a sliced piece of apple for her whenever she was brought by the yard, and a bond was quickly formed between the high-spirited mare and the young lad desperately searching for a true friend.

Then one day Opal was sold to an earl of something or rather. An earl who wanted to use her for racing, never mind that she hadn’t the temperament for it. Lucas never saw his friend again until, nearly seven years later, he was passing by Tattershall’s, an equine auction house, when his head was abruptly turned by a familiar dished nose and a soft, pleading nicker.

Tattershall’s was known throughout Europe for its excellent horse flesh, but there was also a wooden pen, hardly bigger than a sitting room, where men could sell their beasts that were beaten down or otherwise unusable. The poor, worthless things normally went to the butcher, and were rarely worth a second glance. Which was why Lucas was stunned to see Opal huddled in the corner of the pen, her once glossy coat dull with age and neglect, her brown eyes sunken in, her ribs plainly visible.

If that was the worst of it, he might have been able to make an excuse. Maybe the earl had sold her to a family in want of a gentle riding horse, and they’d fallen on hard times. Maybe she’d been lost in a wager, and her new owners hadn’t been as mindful of her care as they should have been as she grew older.

But then he stepped up to Opal, and he went to rest his hand on her neck, just like he’d done a dozen times before. He waited for her to turn her head and nudge his chest, just like she’d done a dozen times before.

Instead, she flinched, and the whites of her eyes flashed, and he felt a pit deep in his stomach because he knew her fear came from more than a lack of good grooming and oats.

Someone, somewhere, had beaten that terror into her.

And it broke his heart to know they’d broken her spirit.

He’d paid three copper pennies for Opal, and brought her back to the same livery barn where they’d first met. He’d rented her a stall, and given her all the apples she