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She wished things were different this time, but they couldn’t be. Not when she knew Miss Sophy harbored the same feelings for Mac that she did. Mac was clearly the same flirt he’d been in their youth—with no intention to settle down. She would not be fooled again. This time she would guard her heart and not allow herself to fall victim to his caring charms. The man was hazardous, and she was very much in danger of falling deeper in love with him than before.
* * *
Daylight broke through the open window and fell upon Mabel’s face. She lay in bed, her eyes squinting against the warm rays of light. Swinging her legs over the mattress, she leaned forward, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was far too early for anyone but servants to be up and about, and the prospect of having her home to herself was too enticing to pass up.
Mabel rang for her maid and dressed quickly in her dark green habit, tugging the waist lower and pinning her hat on her head. Her leg had throbbed something fierce the night before, but the long rest had done much to soothe it, and she was determined to get a long, bracing ride in before the efforts of the day rendered her useless in the saddle once more.
“Thank you, Payne. I shall return in an hour or so.”
“Of course, miss.”
Mabel slipped downstairs, crossing the dewy lawn without the slightest hitch in her step. She could almost believe during these mornings that she was normal, that her leg had miraculously healed. But then she would grow sore and tired over the course of the day, and by the time she went to bed again, would remember with bitter clarity that her leg would never fully heal.
Though she had done her best since the accident to come to terms with her lot in life, sometimes she still felt keenly the way it had changed and affected her.
The groom was waiting beside Star, holding both her reins and the reins of the light brown hack he intended to ride, standing at attention. When he noticed Mabel approaching, he led Star to the side of the stables and the mounting block nestled against the planked wall.
Mabel thanked him, grasping the saddle and lifting herself into it, then arranged her skirts to cover her ankles. She ran a hand down her leg, massaging her calf, hoping the slight ache would remain so, and not increase after her ride.
“Where to, ma’am?”
“I’ve yet to decide, Wagner. Let us begin northward.”
Wagner nodded, waiting for her to move forward before mounting his saddle and following behind. The cool, crisp morning air was already beginning to thaw, the higher the sun grew in the sky. Warmth permeated her habit, soothing her skin as much as it calmed her soul.
She led Star along the north of the house, meandering at a canter. This sort of head-clearing ride was exactly what she needed to rid her mind of the clouding expectations troubling her. Whether she wanted it to or not, Mac’s warning against Mr. Wright had nestled in her thoughts, planting a seed of doubt deep within her.
It was unfair of him to color her opinion of another suitor—her only suitor, in fact. She didn’t count Mr. Pemberton. His sister may have wanted him to throw his hat in the ring, but the man himself clearly did not intend to do any such thing. What right did Mac have to try and persuade her opinion?
None.
Leading Star through the grove of trees, Mabel glanced over her shoulder to assure herself that Wagner was still following. She caught the nose of his horse coming through the trees before spurring Star on. She wanted to reach the vale alone.
It had been years since she’d allowed herself to come here. After her conversation with Mac last night and the way he’d looked to her lips, she had been utterly convinced the man was about to kiss her. But she’d thought that once before, and she’d been wrong. He’d laughed in her face when she had admitted so aloud, and it had ruined her; she would never believe a man’s flirting to mean anything significant, not again.
Which was unfair. A man should not flirt with a woman—or a young girl of sixteen, as she’d been when Mac had begun using flowery praise to speak to her—unless he meant what he said.
Star broke through the woods and into the vale, and Mabel gasped, her heart squeezing from the impact of the vision before her. The larkspur was in full bloom, a sea of dark violet stretching forth and filling the small valley surrounded by a grove of full chestnut trees. The flowers were so vivid they looked almost to be a deep blue. And standing tall in the center of it all, was Mac.
