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“I would flatten you,” Mac said, grinning.
Charles clapped his friend on the arm as they started back toward the group. “You ought to be careful saying such things or I’ll be forced to prove you wrong.”
Mac chuckled, his mood lightened. Charles’s grip was certainly stronger than he’d expected. Apparently building cottages and working the land had added to his strength. It was new for Charles, the concept of manual labor, but it had done well for his physique. Maybe Mac would need to have a round of fives with his friend to test his mettle.
They joined the group and ate their luncheon before deciding that it was time to return home. Charles took Wright’s place in their carriage on the way home, claiming the seat opposite Mabel, and forced Mac to sit as far from her as possible in the small cab. Pippa fell asleep against her sister’s arm, and the occupants of the carriage remained silent as they traveled home.
Mac watched Mabel for a good portion of the ride, silently wishing she would turn her head and look back at him, but she refrained. He only hoped it was a struggle for her, that she did not feel nothing as she pretended to.
They pulled into the Sheffields’ drive an hour later and Charles sat up, leaning closer to the window. “Look,” he said. “My uncle has returned.”
Mabel sat up then, rousing Pippa from her nap. They rolled to a slow stop and the door was opened, the step let down, and the women handed out.
Captain Sheffield stood on the stone steps, waiting patiently with his hands behind his back and a smile under his white beard. “That took you long enough,” he said when the group made their way toward him. “MacKenzie.”
Mac stilled, the sound taking him back to when he was Captain Sheffield’s lieutenant and would obey commands without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, sir?”
The captain held out a thick paper, folded and sealed, the grin widening on his face. “It is done.”
Mac’s head felt light, as if Pippa could touch him and he would fall to the ground in a heap. It was here, and Captain Sheffield was overjoyed. That had to mean that the outcome of their cases in the prize courts had been favorable, did it not? He felt his body move up the steps, his hand reaching for the bundled papers.
“They have accepted our prizes?” he asked, aware of the crowd of guests growing behind him.
Captain Sheffield nodded. “The information is likely outlined in there.” He nodded toward the missive in Mac’s hand. “Along with the promissory note.”
He could have fallen in a heap. The money, as well? He held the key to freeing his father, to retrieving his mother, to…potentially buying a home for himself—whatever home that might be. He needed to accomplish these things quickly, so he could return and convince Mabel to be his bride.
“I must go,” he said without thinking. Mabel paused on the steps behind her father and caught Mac’s eye, her own growing hard. But he did not have time to consider what that meant. There were too many things that required his attention.
“Yes, son,” the captain said, grasping him on the shoulder. “Go.”
