A Match Made in Bed (Spinster Heiresses #2)(65)

Soren’s whole manner had changed once they had turned on the drive. He sat forward as if urging the horses faster. He smiled at her, the expression quick and expectant.

“You are ready to see your son?” she hazarded.

“Absolutely. I’m past ready.”

A jolt of panic gripped her. “Soren? Do you think Logan will like me?”

“Of course.”

“Why are you always so certain of things? What if I am not a good stepmother?” What if she felt nothing for the child? Or worse, considered him a rival for Soren’s affections, the way she’d always believed Helen considered her?

He leaned back in the seat and took her hand. “All I ask is that you are kind to him. The rest will all evolve naturally. Besides, you learned how not to be a stepmother from the one you had.”

He was right. His blunt assessment startled a laugh out of her and eased some of the worry. It would all be fine, she told herself, trying to adopt some of her husband’s confidence. She donned her bonnet, preparing.

And now, as they drove under the stone arch, she saw the house—and she was pleased.

Pentreath was every bit as fine as Mayfield, the duke’s estate. Perhaps even finer. Surrounded by woods, it was pure grace itself, with even lines and simple but stylish cornices. Made of Portland stone, like all elegant houses in the area, Pentreath boasted no fewer than twelve chimneys. Cassandra couldn’t even imagine how many bedrooms that meant.

Her family home of Lantern Fields was a mere farmhouse in comparison.

Dogs barked to herald their arrival. A pack of white and brown hounds came running from the back of the house. The bravest came out to greet their vehicle. The others hung back and sounded a warning that visitors approached.

The front door opened and a servant came out on the step. He called for others to join them. Servants flowed out of the house.

Cassandra looked to her husband. “This is grand.”

He grinned. “Do you think you might like it here?”

“Let us see.” She was actually anxious to have a look inside.

The post chaise had barely rolled to a stop before Soren opened the door and jumped to the ground. He offered a hand to Cassandra. That was when she noticed there were no welcoming smiles on the servants’ faces. They grouped together as if preparing themselves for something terrible to happen.

Her first thought was that they were judging her for being a Holwell. They must have heard about the marriage. They disapproved. Everything she’d been taught about the Yorks was true.

Soren, too, noticed the solemn faces. “Something is not right,” he warned.

A tall, older servant moved forward to greet them.

“Elliot, what is wrong?” Soren demanded.

“Young master Logan—” Elliot started.

“What has happened? Is he all right?” Soren looked around. “Where is he?”

Before Elliot could reply, a cool voice spoke from the doorway. It was Soren’s mother, dressed in black trimmed with a purple band of ribbon under the bodice. “He’s gone,” she announced. “Disappeared.”

She did not sound displeased.





Chapter 17




“What do you mean he disappeared?” Soren countered, moving toward his mother. The servants scuttled to move out of his way.”

Arabella, Lady Dewsberry, had not changed much over the years since Cassandra had last seen her except now she wore black. The woman had been much admired for her even looks and the crystal gray eyes she had given to her son. Her hair had gone silver and she might have put on a stone’s weight but she was still attractive.

This was the first time Cassandra had ever heard her speak. She was surprised there wasn’t more warmth in her voice toward her son and only child.

Then again, Soren had little warmth for her. In all the conversations Cassandra had shared with Soren over the course of the trip, they had rarely talked of parents. She’d thought he was being considerate of her raw feelings on the topic. Now she realized he might have his own burdens to bear.

“I mean, he left,” Arabella said. “One moment he was here and in the next, he couldn’t be found. Is that not right, Elliot?”

The servant hung his head. “It is right, my lord. The lads have been out searching for him.”

“How long has he been gone?” Soren asked the man.

“Three days, my lord.”

Soren swore fluently. “Who is in charge of the search?” He didn’t look to his mother for answers. Those he expected from Elliot.

“Toby and the stable lads. Rhys Butler and his sons were with them yesterday and the day before. Mr. Morwath organized the men from the parish and they have been covering the western area.”

“In the marsh?” Soren sounded beside himself.

“They haven’t found a sign of him. He’s probably not gone that far. We haven’t given up, my lord. Toby won’t come in until the late hours of the night. His brother has to drag him in.”

Soren took hold of Elliot’s shoulder. “Thank you. I know you are all doing everything you can. I need a horse.”

“Rolland, fetch one,” Elliot said to a tow-haired stable lad.

The lad went running.

“Do you know where Toby is searching?” Soren asked.