Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(2)

Only a few years ago she’d been equally consumed with parties and balls and pretty dresses. And Bennett, Lord Carson, whom she had to admit to still being consumed with.

She continued to enjoy those things, of course, but they couldn’t derail her from her purpose in life—to help people.

And, apparently, kittens.

It had happened gradually, making it feel as though she had awoken from a long, slow sleep. She’d started noticing things, things that were not immediately in her world, and she’d started questioning.

Why were people so cruel? And what could she do to help?

It was that urge that drove her more than anything now.

“Sir!” she said as she stepped outside into the garden. She glanced around, Pearl on her heels, until she spotted the man in the Robinsons’ garden, who was holding a small, wriggling thing in his hand.

“Sir!” she said again, louder, so that he turned and looked at her across the fence that separated their properties.

The two families had been neighbors for as long as Olivia could remember; the children had grown up together, but now the only Robinson left in the house was Lady Robinson, the matriarch of the family, a terrifyingly proper woman who always looked at Olivia as though she knew she was thinking of parties and balls and dresses when she should be thinking of better things.

I’m thinking of better things now, Olivia thought as she stomped toward the fence, swinging her arms furiously. Namely saving small helpless animals from your ogre gardener. “What are you doing?” she asked. Then she shook her head as she planted her fists on her hips. “Never mind, I know what you are doing. Although I can’t fathom why you would want to harm such precious little creatures,” she continued, her voice softening as she saw the tumble of kittens at the man’s feet.

There were three more down on the ground, all looking small enough to fit in her hand, all bumbling in and around each other in an adorably confused way. Their mother was nowhere in sight, which likely meant these kittens would be dead if they weren’t taken care of soon.

That furious anger heated.

“These precious creatures are living in the shed, making a mess everywhere,” the man said, shaking the kitten in his hand for emphasis.

The kitten in question was a grey tabby with, it seemed, one bent ear and whiskers that were nearly as long as the kitten itself was wide.

Olivia unlatched the gate separating the properties and launched herself through until she was able to remove the kitten from his hand.

The kitten promptly clawed her, but it was all part of the ongoing battle. Every war had its wounds, she’d told Pearl often enough. Usually when Pearl was complaining of a hand cramp after Olivia had wrangled into helping her with her latest charity project. Pearl was a much better seamstress than Olivia, after all. Something Pearl pointed out more often than Olivia liked, though Olivia might have mentioned a few times that she was taller than her twin. Most people assumed Olivia was the older sister, since the two of them were not identical.

“I will inform Lady Robinson of your behavior today, and I will be removing these animals myself,” she declared, holding the struggling kitten up to her chest.

The man shrugged. “The lady don’t care. And as long as they aren’t living in my shed, I don’t care either.”

Olivia opened her mouth to tell him just what she thought of his behavior, but decided it wasn’t worth it to waste her breath. Not when she could be speaking out about injustice or helping poor families find a better way in the world or sharing her most fervent desire with Lord Carson. Bennett.

She would act instead. Solving the immediate problem was more important than stating her opinion, correct though it was.

“Pearl,” she said instead, turning her head back to address her twin. Pearl had already anticipated what she was going to say and had retrieved a basket their own gardener used for roses, its handle slung over her arm.

“Good, take this one,” Olivia said, putting the kitten into the basket and then bending down to gather up the remainder in her arms. They were so tiny they all fit, their tiny claws shredding the fabric of her gown, not strong enough to draw blood, but stinging. The three looked similar enough to the first one to be siblings, and Olivia felt a swell in her heart as she thought about what would happen if she and her sisters were just as lost as these little mites, one of whom had just begun to bite her wrist.

“If you find any other helpless creatures,” she said as she marched back over to their property, four kittens mewing in the basket, “please send word so I can rescue them from your evil clutches.”

The hero in The Notorious Noose, the latest penny dreadful she and Pearl had read, had used those same words. Olivia found it useful—not to mention entertaining—to read those books for language she could borrow to make her points. She had found people responded better to hyperbole than plain facts.

Besides which, wrongs were always righted, and then were suitably punished, which left her with a satisfied feeling after reading them. Not like in real life, where rights were often left unright, and people kept suffering.

But at least, she thought as she glanced into the basket, these four kittens wouldn’t suffer any longer. Not if she had anything to say about it.

Which she did. And she always would. It was what drove her now, even more than wanting to find her own happiness. She needed everyone to have happiness.