A Match Made in Bed (Spinster Heiresses #2)(72)

“I’m sorry,” Soren said. “I did not abandon you. I told you I would return.”

“I waited.” He’d even staked out Soren’s room.

“You are a good and clever lad. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

Logan’s answer was to dive into Soren’s arms. Soren tightened his hold, wanting to be a solid presence his son could trust. He owed this to him. He owed this to Mary.

The first time Logan had reached for him had been during a storm on their ship crossing. Soren cherished each time his son looked to him to be a father.

His mother interrupted them. “Dinner will be in half an hour. Since your son has eaten, there is no need to send a tray to the nursery. I shall tell Mrs. Branwell.”

She started to walk away but Soren called her back. “Mother, I would have us talk.”

“Perhaps later.”

“Now, Mother.” From the moment he’d returned, Soren had treated his mother as a woman in grief. He’d been solicitous. But he was no fool. She might wear black with a touch of purple, but she was not displeased her husband was dead.

Her smile was cool. “I’m not a pup you can order about.” She would have walked off except for Soren’s next words.

“You will move into the dowager cottage. I shall tell Mrs. Branwell to make the arrangements.”

He had his mother’s attention now. She came charging up to him. “I will not move. This is my house.”

“No, Mother, it is mine. However unfair you believe it to be, I make the rules here. I paid the price to save Pentreath.”

“I knew you would not be happy with your marriage—”

“Well, you are wrong.” He stood, using his full height to lord over her. Logan slid from his chair to stand next to him. “I chose Cassandra Holwell. I love her.” The truth of his words seemed to ring in the air around him. “I want her to be happy here.” He placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Logan is my heir—”

“He is not fully English. He’s—”

“A member of a proud tribe. His mother was one of the bravest women I knew. My son will be the next lord of this house and I expect all to respect him.”

There was a long beat of silence. His mother stood as if trying to swallow her words. She failed. “I will not accept him. Not completely. But I shall do what I can.”

“And you will do it from the dowager’s cottage.”

Her face contorted into fury but Soren was having none of it. “You had your chance to prove your mettle. I left my son with you and you did not see to his welfare.”

“I knew where he was. He was safe.”

“Don’t think me a fool. And if you do anything in the future to harm my son or my wife, I will move you even further away.”

She shook with anger. Soren remembered battles between his parents when she’d behaved just this way. When he’d been Logan’s age, her temper had frightened him. He squeezed his son’s shoulders, urging him to be strong.

Of course, he needn’t worry. Logan had faced worse dangers than an old woman’s tantrum.

“I will not be down for dinner,” his mother announced. She turned, and only then did they all see Cassandra standing by the door, her hands by her side, her eyes wide.

His mother walked up to her. “You’d best have a care. My son has no allegiance to anyone but that wolf child of his.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Cassandra said, and Soren’s heart swelled with pride.

“Fool.” His mother left.

Cassandra blinked as if shocked.

“She must always have the last word,” Soren said.

Her response was a very direct question. “Do you really love me?” She walked up to him.

So she’d overheard. The game was over. He was exposed.

He looked into her eyes and confessed, “With all my heart.”

“And why?”

He had to laugh, Cassandra always expected an explanation. “Because you aren’t afraid to speak your mind. Because you think. You are a survivor, my love, and I admire strong women. And I must also say, I love you because at one time, I thought you the prettiest girl in Cornwall and I still believe so today.”

“Soren, I’m not—”

He cut her off. “Why do you deny what I’m saying? It is the truth, Cass, my truth. And I apologize for my lack of poetry. I just like the way you look.”



I just like the way you look.

The compliment went straight to her heart. If he thought her pretty, who was she to point out her failings?

“I know I am not what you wanted—” he started, but she stopped the flow of his words with her fingers on his lips.

“I’ve never said that,” she answered.

“You didn’t have to, Cassandra. I knew.”

“Then you knew wrong.”

He went very still. “I don’t know if I believe what I’m hearing,” he said. “Tell me again.”

“If you don’t know how deeply I care for you by the way I hold you in my arms, well, words won’t convince you.”

“I adore being in your arms but I have this wife who assures me words are important. Say them, Cassandra. I pray you return my affections.”