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Chapter 14
The walk around the pond was cut blessedly short—Mac could only abide so much time in the company of Wright—and he now pulled his coat tighter together as he made his way down to the stables. Miss Pippa had announced upon his return from the walk that she’d completed her tasks and was ready for their ride.
He had promptly changed into his riding clothes and promised to meet her outside.
When Mac rounded the corner of the house, Pippa was sitting on a mounting block set against the stable wall, her feet dangling above the ground. Her hair was neatly plaited underneath a bonnet, the long, brown braids so similar to the ones Mac used to tug at as a child—Mabel’s. His heart constricted. He swallowed, approaching Mabel’s miniature and lifting her hand in his, bowing over it.
“Your servant, madam.”
Pippa lifted her nose, a smile pulling at her lips. “I’ve been waiting an age, sir.”
“Forgive me for the delay.” Mac fought a smile as Pippa hopped down from her mounting block seat and clapped her hands together. The child mimicked adults so well, but her immaturity was difficult to hide completely.
A groom led Orion out through the open stable doors, followed closely by a light tan pony with a white mane. “Is this yours?” Mac asked.
Pride shone in Pippa’s eyes. “Yes. Her name is Penelope and she is such a gentle beast.”
Mac swallowed his mirth. The girl spoke as though she was an expert regarding horseflesh. The pony did indeed appear docile, but Mac wouldn’t expect anything else for a girl of seven years.
They mounted their beasts and turned them toward the road when the front door opened to the house and Mabel stepped outside, her hand resting on the doorknob, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
“Come, Miss Pippa,” Mac said, turning Orion back toward the house.
“May I ask what you are doing?” Mabel asked, her gaze directed at her sister.
Pippa released a long-suffering sigh. “I have completed my studies and accepted this gentleman’s offer to ride.”
Mabel held her sister’s gaze. “Alone? No chaperone?”
“I hardly need one, Mae. I am only seven.”
Mabel’s dark blue-violet gaze shifted to Mac, and his heart hammered in his chest. How dearly he wished to extend the invitation to her as well. He’d told Mabel that he’d like to take her riding, hadn’t he? Well, it was true. But if he offered, would she turn him down? He swallowed his apprehension. “Should you like to chaperone, Miss Sheffield? We are planning a short ride.”
She glanced down at her own, simple gown. “I’m not dressed for it.”
Of course she would consider the niceties. Could she not be the familiar, devil-may-care girl he’d known when they were younger? No, of course she couldn’t. She was a lady now. “We do not mind waiting.”
“You don’t want to leave the horses standing for—”
“We can circle the pond while we wait,” Pippa said. “It is acceptable, I should think. We’ll remain in sight of the house for the entirety.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but for the purpose of this situation, Mac held his tongue. Mabel’s gaze flicked from Pippa to Mac, and she held it there. He could almost shrink under her scrutiny, but remained tall, his shoulders straight and eyes pinned to her.
She nodded before turning back into the house and Mac felt the satisfaction and anticipation of the prospect of time spent with Mabel alone.
Well, they would have Pippa for company, but that was even better. The girl could soften any situation.
“Shall we?” he asked Pippa, indicating the opening of the path around the pond. Pippa led the way down the narrow entry point. When the path widened at the place where the bird had defiled Miss Pemberton’s hair earlier that day, Mac brought his steed level with Pippa’s and gave her his full attention.
Pippa sighed. “Mabel thinks she hides everything from me, but I hear more than she thinks I do.”
“Oh?” Mac said. “Perhaps you ought not to listen so closely then.”
Her little nose scrunched up. “But if I don’t listen, how will I know what is going on in the house?”
Mac chuckled, pretending to find the foliage to his right fascinating. It was no wonder this seven-year-old sounded like an adult. She mimicked those around her well. Mac was tempted to inquire what the girl had learned that was so interesting, but it wouldn’t be right to encourage this behavior. “Is your play coming along well?”
“Oh, that,” Pippa said, lifting her small shoulders in a shrug. “I cannot practice without my friends, and they have not returned yet.”
