Page 4 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

“ L uke!” Christian rushed forward to where his son was with the strange woman before the newly frightened horse.

His heart beat in his chest as he ran, convinced his son was about to be struck on the head.

With surprising speed, however, the woman nudged Luke back—before stepping closer forward herself.

Christian opened his mouth, prepared to cry at her to not be foolish, and to step out of the way. However, before he could say anything, she pressed forward fearlessly, stroking the horse’s tawny dappled neck.

“Easy, easy,” the woman cooed softly.

Within a few repetitions of the petting movement, she had calmed the horse completely.

Christian tore his gaze from this strange woman to look at his son. Surely such a turn of events would have left Luke’s already nervous disposition in shreds.

And yet, looking at Luke, he didn’t look frightened at all. Instead, he gazed at the woman, his small face lit with a kind of peaceful smile that Christian had never seen before.

Still, the protectiveness in him led him to pull Luke away from the woman.

“Are you mad?” he demanded to her back. “Or simply reckless? Endangering a child for your own foolish whims?”

The woman turned, and for a moment, Christian’s anger faded away. She was of average height, with honey-blonde hair artfully tucked into an updo. The modest grey gown she was wearing, though it reached her neck and wrists, did nothing to hide the luscious curves of her waist, hips, and bust.

It was her eyes, however, that truly took his breath away—hazel, just a shade darker than her hair, and lit up with a fire that matched his own.

Almost immediately, he felt a deep pull towards her. He hadn’t felt this heat in a long, long time, and it was almost foreign, unrecognizably so, until his eyes traced along her curves once more.

Desire, he realized. He was feeling desire.

“If you had been watching at all, you would know I saved the boy. I didn’t endanger him,” she snapped.

“Strange manner of rescue. Is this a habit of yours, pulling children towards beasts twice their size?”

“Only when the beast isn’t the greatest danger nearby,” she retorted. Her eyes slipped from his face to Luke’s; immediately, her expression softened, as did her voice when she asked, “Is this your father?”

Luke nodded. Tugging on Christian’s coat sleeve, he looked up at his father. “It’s t-true, Father,” he said. Though a trace of his stutter remained, his tone was firm and calm in a way Christian had never heard before. “She saved me.”

The lack of stammer took Christian aback. He scanned his son’s face. Not only was it filled with honesty—it was also completely tranquil, completely sure. Nowhere to be seen was the nervous, timid boy he had known for the past eleven years.

“Your son loves animals,” she said. “You ought to let him pet one, now and then.”

“Not ones with hooves and no sense,” Christian muttered.

“Horses get scared on occasion,” the woman said, a touch of exasperation re-entering her tone. “You ought to prepare your son for that, particularly seeing as he has such a fondness for them.”

Christian could not remember the last time he was spoken to in such a way—and by a stranger, no less! A beautiful stranger, yes, but such an impertinent one.

“And do you have any children of your own?”

Something he could not read shifted behind those lovely hazel eyes.

“No,” she said, her voice a touch softer.

He nodded decisively. “Well. In that case, I would advise being more cautious with what you say and to whom you say it. That sharp tongue may land you in trouble someday.”

The fire in her seemed to flare up again at that. “My Lord, I assure you, no impertinence was meant—merely honesty. I need not be a mother to see your son loves animals, and you do him a disservice by not allowing him to learn about them and the realistic ways to care for them.”

“I am being perfectly realistic,” he snapped back. “I simply don’t appreciate meddlesome ladies butting their heads into my life.”

She raised a well-formed brow. “Meddlesome?” She took a step closer. Christian could see that her temper was beginning to rise alongside his own. Her lips parted, her breathing quickening as she continued, “One might think you would thank me.”

“Thank you? You give yourself a great deal of credit,” Christian said.

His heart was beginning to beat faster—with irritation, surely.

The mysterious lady appeared to be feeling much the same way: her face was gaining a healthy flush, the way one might after a particularly vigorous horse ride … or a particularly vigorous afternoon in bed.

The thought took him by surprise, though he could not push it to the side.

In fact, noticing the flush across her cheeks only drew his attention closer to her features.

In addition to her fierce gaze, she had plush, well-formed lips and a loose tendril of hair that practically begged a man to reach out and brush it behind her ear.

“I am not seeking credit,” she argued back. “Merely good manners. Or are you one of those men who refuse to acknowledge that women can be helpful? Intelligent, even? I wonder what your wife would have to say if she were here.”

She could not know how deep those words cut; still, they hurt so deeply, and spurred Christian to take another step forward.

“If you were my wife,” he continued, “then perhaps I would take your word on the proper ways in which to care for a child.”

Her nostrils flared. “And if you were my husband,” she bit back, “I still would not accept such rude conduct from you.”

He opened his mouth to reply. But just then, Christian felt another tug at his sleeve.

He looked down to see Luke. “Father,” the boy said. “P-Please don’t be mad at the pretty l-lady. It is my fault for leaving M-Miss Farrow behind.”

Christian felt his jaw clench. “Come along, Luke,” he said, putting a firm hand on his son’s shoulder and turning him back towards the fair. “It is time we return. I’m most certain that Miss Farrow is worried sick.”

As well she should be , he thought.

He would have to have his housekeeper give her a stern talking to for allowing the boy to slip out of her sight. But he didn’t say that aloud to Luke.

They were only a few paces away when the boy slipped away, running back to the horse and the unnamed lady.

“Luke—” Christian began, but already the boy had reached her.

Christian was just close enough to overhear him say, “Thank you. For s-saving me. And for introducing me to the horse.”

The woman knelt down. “You’re very welcome,” she said.

Luke looked about for a moment. Just before Christian could call him back, Luke seemed to find what he was looking for. He reached out and picked a nearby flower, holding it out to the woman.

Christian’s heart nearly leapt into his throat. He had often picked flowers for Isabel on his way home. It was one of her favorite surprises, but he had assumed Luke had been too young at the time to notice, and certainly too young to remember.

Had he been wrong?

The mystery woman seemed similarly touched by the gesture, smiling as she accepted the small pink wildflower.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, reaching out to give Luke’s cheek a gentle touch. Then her eyes flickered up to where Christian was. “You ought to go now,” she said. “You don’t want your father or governess to worry, do you?” Luke shook his head. “Run along, then.”

Luke was still blushing when he reached his father again.