A Pearl Among Princes by Coleen Paratore

Author:Coleen Paratore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US

Later, after dinner, Father suggests a game of chess.

“How are you doing, daughter?” he says, lining his pawns in a row.

“Fine,” I say, lining up mine, wanting to say much more, but not wanting to burden him in his sickness and uncertain of how he will react to my strange and haunting calling. I long to tell him of this anxiousness, how I love Mackree but instead have been flirting with princes, and then there are the faces that . . .

My hand freezes on the last pawn as I fight back tears.

“Gracepearl,” Father says, covering my hand with his grand one. “Talk to me. How can I help?”

There is a knock at the door. Mr. Sparks, the candle maker, one of Father’s best chums. “Welcome,” I say. “Do come in. Father will be much cheered to see you.”

I head outside. The garden’s in full bloom. I gather some blue lilybells, purple and pink asters, and three sprigs of Queen Anne’s lace and bring them inside to find a ribbon and a basket. Mackree’s mother’s birthday is this week, I know. Mrs. Byre has always been kind as a mother to me and I have missed her lately. I call in to tell Father where I’m going.

“Be home before dark,” he says.

Hopefully Mackree will be out in the stables, far enough away from his cottage to even know I am visiting. When I come up over the hill to the Byres’ horse farm, I hear galloping and then there’s a whirl of dust as Sir Humpty races past me on Mackree’s prized steed. The egg-shaped PIT strikes the muscled stallion’s glistening brown coat with his long black rod.

“Charge! Charge! We shall be victorious!” he shouts, digging his heels in roughly. He is bouncing up and down like he’s taming a wild colt rather than riding a prize-winning Thoroughbred. Fall off and crack, I yell in my mind.

Humpty whips the horse again. “Charge!”

Fool. Cruel fool. I have half a mind to shout to him. There is no need to beat Ransom. Mackree already said that Sir Richard will ride Ransom in the tournament, and the finest horse on Miramore needs no rod to win a race. Mackree would be furious if he knew. But I won’t intercede and shame Mackree again. Sometimes it’s so hard to know what to do.

Frustrated, I turn toward Mackree’s cottage. When I reach the porch, my breath catches in my throat. Nuff is sitting with Mrs. Byre.

Mrs. Byre pours Nuff a cup of tea. Nuff says something and they laugh, so familiar, like old friends or family. Since when does Nuff visit my Mackree’s mother? Maybe this is why she was so oddly quiet that night by the fire. Maybe it’s not Sir Peter that Nuff is fond of. Maybe it is Mackree! My heart is pounding. My stomach churns. What is wrong with you, Gracepearl? You should be happy. If Nuff likes Mackree, then you are free to pursue Sir Peter without concern. Mackree said he would seek a girl who was happy living on Miramore.

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