Page 4 of Unearthing the Smuggler's Heart
"Curious about what, exactly?" Peter Applegate asked, the sun glinting in his round spectacles. "You've met her."
"I introduced myself to her," Mathias corrected, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder again. "She muttered a standard greeting and slipped away before I could do any more than that. Odd behavior, considering the circumstances, no?"
"Maybe your sister warned her about your rakish ways," Isabelle suggested, leaning forward to select a plum from their basket. "If you have questions, I'm sure Gigi would answer them for you. Otherwise, you'll get to know her well enough on the journey. There aren't many places to enjoy total solitude onThe Harpy."
"And yet, you two seem to manage it every time we're aboard," Mathias teased, winning a blush from Peter and a guilty smile from Isabelle, mirth dancing in her hazel eyes.
These two people were his dearest friends in all the world. His very first friends, in the true sense of the word. Those he trusted the most, beyond even the bonds of blood family. He thought, as the sun shone down on them with the first gift of spring warmth, that they really ought to see one another more often. Mathias believed that the three of them brought out the best in one another.
In truth, he held himself in some esteem for their union and the much-admired success of their marriage. Had he been a better chaperone all those years ago aboard his ship, their love may never have been able to flourish. It was a pride he had never spoken aloud, for he knew both would argue that he'd had nothing to do with it, aghast at the very notion.
But Mathias knew it was so. And that was enough.
"Ah, we have a visitor," Peter observed, gesturing toward a rapidly approaching toddler, followed in close pursuit by her father.
"Uncle Tias!" the child squeaked, dropping to her hands and knees to complete her journey at speed, much to the amused chagrin of her father. "Up!"
Mathias chuckled, rising to his feet and sweeping the little girl up from the grass and into the air, making her squeal in delight. Her curly blonde hair was full of bits of grass and earth, some of which she decided to share with her uncle via the smearing of her hands.
Her father caught up to them, winded but in good spirits, shaking his head in amazement at her speed. "One day, I fear I won't catch her," said Kit Cooper to his brother-in-law, a self-deprecating chuckle complementing the flush in his cheeks. He reached up to ruffle his daughter's hair, shaking his head at her antics.
"Did you fly away from your papa, Magpie?" Mathias asked the little one, making her hide her face in the crook of his shoulder.
"No!" she insisted, in the most endearing sort of lie.
"She must take after her uncle," Peter noted, a lazy smile on his lips.
"Yes, Gigi says the same thing rather frequently," Kit agreed, grinning at Isabelle and Peter. "Although with markedly more concern in her tone."
"Bah," Mathias grunted, tickling at his niece's side. "We'll make a pirate queen of her yet, whether Gigi likes it or not!"
Little Maggie Cooper giggled, throwing her arms around her uncle's neck in what appeared to be full agreement of this prospective future.
Kit hooked his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets and sighed. "I fear you are more correct than you realize, Mathias. Are you all right watching her for a moment? I promised I'd assist Nate with something, and you know how impatient he gets."
"We'll be just fine," Mathias assured the other man, shooing him off to whatever chore he had committed himself to with his cousin. He sank back onto the blanket with Maggie in his arms, letting her squirm free to find her own place on the blanket among his friends.
Peter immediately engaged the child in conversation, asking about all manner of child adventures, and what she had been up to with her cousins here at Meridian House.
It gave Mathias an opportunity to gaze off toward the young woman again, the mysterious Miss Ferris, who would soon be a passenger on his ship. She was seated with the mistress of Meridian House, Nell Atlas, and Mathias's sister, Gigi. The three seemed engaged in pleasant conversation.
She did not look up, nor seem to feel his eye on her. The girl was a complete enigma.
It seemed impossible to Mathias that only a handful of years ago, this lawn had been overrun with weeds and dead leaves, that the house had sat on the hill looking fit to crumble or spit out all manner of nasty vengeful spirits at anyone who wandered too close. It had sat here, abandoned, for twenty years, an unsettling landmark which Mathias had spent his entire life making sure to avoid when riding out of Dover proper.
And now it was the most welcoming home in Kent County, the site of festivals, banquets, and balls.
If Meridian House could be reborn in such a way, then Mathias supposed nothing at all was ever permanent. And that was the way he liked it. What was the point of living one day to the next if everything played out in identical looping monotony?
"Oh, just go talk to her, you idiot," Isabelle tutted under her breath, tossing her thick auburn braid over her shoulder and planting her hands on her hips—a rather amusing stance for a woman who was currently seated. "I don't know what you're so worried about. You didn't know a thing about me either when I boarded your precious boat."
"That's not true," he answered distractedly. "I read the letters your father wrote to the Silver Leaf before setting off to retrieve you, and then we spent several days on the road together, did we not? This girl only said hello to me and in a voice so whisper thin that I couldn't even glean her given accent."
"English, presumably," Isabelle replied dryly, in her own French lilt. "And I imagine your interest in her is strictly related to the mission, hm? Not the big doe eyes or an unmistakable aura of a damsel in need of rescuing?"
"Of course," Mathias said, flashing her a dimpled grin. "I do not know what you are implying."
Isabelle scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've never seen you nervous for a mission before."
