AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“May I join you, ladies?” he asked.
“Certainly,” Gram said with a gesture to the chair beside Mabel. Mac took the seat and his shoulder brushed against hers, sending a wave of shivers up her arm.
The next dance was announced, and couples filed from the surrounding crowds, forming the set with broad smiles and antsy feet. Mr. Wright stood at the end of the line, Miss Sophy his partner, and they had the looks on their faces of two people doing their utmost not to laugh. Charles was some way down the line across from Miss Pemberton, and while Mabel could not see his face from where she sat, she imagined him to be very much anticipating this dance.
“Do you long to be out there?” Mac asked, pulling her attention from the group as the song began.
“No. I do love to dance, of course, but when my leg aches this way it is not in the least enjoyable. I do not find myself at a loss for being unable to join my friends when I know it would hurt excessively.” And it did. She’d overestimated herself, and just sitting here was painful enough. Mabel never should have left her house today; not after her fall in the barn.
“Has your leg pained you in this way for long?”
She trained her gaze on Miss Sophy at the end of the line so she would not be forced to endure the pity on Mac’s face. His tone spoke of sorrow and regret, and both of those were useless, given the situation. “It has only been four years since the initial injury, sir. I’m sure if I’d had a physician attend me, I would be better off now, but as it stood, we had no one in the neighborhood and my father’s farrier stepped into the role.”
Mac’s voice grew incredulous. “His farrier?”
“What else could we have done? Dr. Mason was not yet practicing here and the man who we relied on in those situations was not in town at that time. He had gone to visit his sister in London, and I had no choice but to receive the help I was given.”
“Some help that was,” he muttered.
Mabel turned in her seat the slightest bit and her knee brushed against Mac’s. She righted that blunder and moved her knee back a little, but Mac’s eyes darkened a fraction. “You need not look so angry, Mac. My father came home on leave shortly after my injury and required every physician he could conjure to come and see what could be done about my leg, but by then it was too late. I had to choose between limping for the rest of my life or allowing them to break the bones again in an effort to set them properly—with the caveat that it might be an impossibility. They could try, but there was no promise of success.”
“So you refused.”
“Yes, Mac. I refused. The limp is not lovely by any means, but I would rather the one I know than perhaps something much worse.”
“What did your father want you to do?”
“My father wants me to be happy. He allowed me to make the decision for myself and supported me when I did. He has never mentioned it again, and neither have I.”
“You are a strong woman.”
Mabel stilled. No one had ever called her a strong woman before, and the words, coming from Mac’s lips, managed to steal her breath. She glanced down, tracing the hems of the gowns in front of her with her eyes to give her something to focus on. Last time Mac had treated Mabel with care and regard, she had fallen in love with him and he had turned around and rejected her. She was dangerously close to repeating those offenses and it was utterly terrifying. She wanted him to mean the things he said, and that made it infinitely worse that he couldn’t.
He was merely a nice man. And she would do best not to fall for his kindness again.
* * *
Mac could not imagine the sheer amount of pain Mabel must have endured when the farrier—the farrier for heaven’s sake—had failed to accurately set her leg. It was a miracle she could walk at all, given the circumstances. He recalled the first time he’d noticed her limp when they had taken that walk around the pond, and how slight it had been just days after his arrival in Devon.
Mabel must have put an inordinate amount of strain on herself the last few weeks to have begun limping the way she was. To say nothing for falling from a ladder. She had told him she was distracted, but he would have bet money her bad leg gave out from beneath her due to the stress she had recently put on it.
“How is the work progressing in Larkspur Vale?”
Her question caught him off guard and he had to remind himself of their very public setting. He longed to shove aside all thoughts of others and pull her into his arms, to soothe her and make certain she never took another step ever again if it pained her; her large, round eyes blinking up at him broke through his daydream and landed him on level ground.
The sound of the music rushed into his ears all at once and he shook his head.
A concerned line formed on her forehead. “Are things going poorly already?”
“No, not at all. I have reason to believe we will complete the cottages ahead of schedule, in fact.”
“Then why do you look so stormy, Mac?”
“Do I?” He leaned back in his seat, rubbing a finger over his jaw. He could not help looking stormy, he supposed. But it was a little embarrassing she was able to see through him so easily.
Her answering smile was stunning. “Yes, sir. You do.”
“Well, perhaps it is because I would rather be dancing.”
