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“I see.”
Pippa’s little nose scrunched up, her head tilting to the side. “Have you ever had a dream, Mac? I have one. I want to become an actress on the stage in London, where people will come from faraway places to watch me and tell me how lovely I am.” She sighed. “I realize it isn’t becoming of a lady, Mac, so you needn’t remind me that it’s impossible. It’s only a dream.”
“There is nothing wrong with dreaming, Pippa.” Mac knew this well. He’d dreamed of a certain house since he’d first stumbled upon it as a youth. Camden Court. The estate had been beautiful then—not too large, built of stone and just on the edge of the northern Devon coast. The idyllic setting had struck his heart and he’d known from that moment that he wanted to raise his family there one day. That it was still for sale had tormented him for months, knowing full well he would never be able to both free his father from the Marshalsea and obtain the house he’d always longed for.
Pippa’s voice broke through his melancholic thoughts. “I really need to see my friends again so we can practice, and of course we must begin building the scenery. But Mabel is too overwhelmed with Charles’s difficult guests to consider calling on the Traynor girls.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh! I should not have said that.”
“You will not offend me, Pippa,” Mac assured her, fighting a grin.
“But you are one of Charles’s difficult guests, are you not?”
It took a great deal of control to temper his amusement. “I cannot speak to my level of difficulty, of course, but in truth, I am a guest of your father’s.”
Pippa’s eyes brightened. “Then I have not offended you!”
“No, dear Pippa. You have not. Now, please, do tell me more of this play you are planning, and what I might do to help you execute it.”
* * *
Mabel pulled Star’s reins and craned her neck to listen. She’d dressed quickly and followed the path around the pond, impatient to reach Mac and Pippa. Not that she truly believed a chaperone to be necessary, of course. But she did not wish to analyze her reasons closer; she was certain she would not like what she found.
Giggling drifted down the path and Mabel urged her horse forward, anticipation pounding her heart against her breastbone. She’d made it farther along the path than their walk had taken them that morning, most of the way around the pond and onto the shaded side, foliage and full branches blocking the beating sun overhead.
“If I agree to this scheme, then what am I to get from the arrangement?” Mac said, amusement tinting his low tone. She could perfectly imagine him now, his strong jaw lowered, the navy coat straining against his shoulders.
“Is fame and fortune not enough for you?” Pippa asked.
Mabel’s desires were divided. She ought to make her presence known, but she would surely love to know more of this arrangement Mac spoke of.
His chuckle lifted on the breeze and traveled to her, and she felt wholly disconcerted. Something about his direct gaze the last few days had changed. He’d begun watching her closely, and it was both perplexing and invigorating.
But Mabel had eavesdropped far more often of late than in the course of her entire life, and it was unbecoming of a lady. Gathering a breath, Mabel clicked her tongue to move Star forward, around the bend and into view of Mac and Pippa.
Mac glanced up from where he sat, crouched low, his fingers combing over the packed dirt. Pippa sat on the ground beside him, cupping her hands toward him, their horses tied to a tree near the pond.
“Mac is going to teach me to skip a rock!” Pippa said, jumping up. “I’ve never been very good, you know, and Jacob Tucker beats me every time.”
Mabel lifted her gaze, catching Mac’s. Did he find the same similarities between Pippa and Jacob Tucker, and Mac and Mabel as children, as she did?
“Have you found a good stone?”
“Yes.” Pippa lifted a flat, oblong rock the size of a guinea and Mac took it from her, inspecting it. He directed a nod of approval at her, and Pippa’s cheeks flushed with appreciation.
“Will you come down and join us?” Mac asked, turning and taking Mabel by surprise.
“Oh, I shouldn’t. I do not mind watching from up here.”
“But why would you watch us when you can join us?” He shifted his attention to Pippa. “Mabel used to beat me sometimes, too.”
Mabel laughed. “You exaggerate, sir. I won once, and it was merely because of your less-than-honorable tactics.”
Mac raised an eyebrow. “Are you accusing me of cheating?”
“Never.” She could not contain her grin. “But you quite obviously tossed the rock into the pond with little effort and allowed me a win.”
“A generous gesture I did not live down,” he conceded. Rising, he crossed the path and approached Star. “The price of attempting to be a gentleman.”
“A gentleman would have allowed me to win on my own merit or lose fairly.”
