A Match Made in Bed (Spinster Heiresses #2)(78)

Cassandra moved a desk into the library on the opposite end of the room from Soren’s. They spent hours there, each busy with their own work. It was a good arrangement.

She even set up a small desk for Logan and she gave him assignments. He thought he was helping her create lessons for the school. She knew she was educating him.

He still called her “friend” on occasion. Lately, he’d taken to referring to her as “m’lady,” a slurring of the “my lady” the servants and Soren used.

Once in a while he would call her Cass. “His Cass,” just as Soren referred to her on occasion. Usually this was when he was nodding off to sleep. Stories had become their nightly ritual. First, she told him a story and then, eventually she began reading stories to him so that he would understand the usefulness of words and books.

There were few books around Pentreath but Cassandra had found a Bible and that was all she needed. She read about Jonah and the whale, and the earth swallowing the Israelites, and Daniel taming lions, and sometimes Logan would share stories his mother and aunts had taught him.

It was a special time of the day between them. She no longer feared being a stepmother because she did not consider herself one. She was his mother and he was her son, a relationship built from a growing bond of love and respect.

Soren sometimes joined them but he was usually keeping late hours balancing the estate books and scheming of ways to “rob Peter to pay Paul.” She and Soren made sure they took care of each other’s needs whether talking about their day or having a good romp.

Meanwhile, she was anxiously awaiting word from Mr. Huggett in London, who was tasked with selling her garnets for a fine price. Then she would buy books and fill Pentreath’s library with them. The building for her school was still under consideration. They could build, or there was an abandoned granary on the estate close to the village that Soren thought might make a good school.

It was during this time of waiting that a letter arrived for her from Willa Reverly. Cassandra almost didn’t have enough money to pay the franking. Yes, money was that tight, but she had to admit, money was meaning less and less to her.

However, Willa’s news in the letter shocked her.

“What is it?” Soren said, seeing the change in her expression. They were in the library, each at their own desk.

“Willa says she is being married off to Camberly.”

“Is she now?”

“This is terrible news.”

“And why is that? Or did you want the points?” he teased.

She’d told him about their long-ago game. He’d thought it funny, and she remembered it as sad. She had explained that back then, the game had been what they needed to make themselves go through Season after Season of meaningless routs and parties.

Cassandra scanned the letter. “She doesn’t sound happy. She said the announcement has been made and then he disappeared.” She looked up. “He did that one other time. He attended the Marquis of Devon’s rout and then seemed to vanish.”

“Yes, when he was enjoying Letty Bainhurst.”

“You knew where he was?” she asked.

“Apparently, he owns a hunting lodge that is good for clandestine meetings.”

She frowned. “I don’t want Willa to marry a man who can’t love her. She deserves better. In fact, we all deserve better.”

“I love you,” he said.

“I am so blessed.” She frowned at the letter. “I’m thankful you are in my life or I could have been in a marriage like this.”

“No, you would have been shuffled off to a miserable spinster’s life. I saved you.”

She laughed. “And I saved you from marrying a true heiress.” She held up the letter. “You could have offered for Willa.”

“And I would not be half as happy as I am now.”

She had to run over and give him a kiss. “Well said,” she whispered in his ear. “And this sort of marriage is what I want for Willa.” She still held the letter. “If the duke was going to disappear, why did he go through the motions of making an offer to her?”

“I just hope his disappearance doesn’t involve Letty again.”

“That is two of us. Poor Willa. What shall she do?”

“Become a duchess. Camberly needs her money.”

“But he may never be faithful.”

“She will still be a duchess.”

“That is not enough,” Cassandra declared. “I’m going to write and tell her as much. But first, I need to call on the vicar.”

“Mr. Morwath, why?”

“I asked him if he had books he could lend us for the school and he said he had several that his children no longer enjoyed. He has offered to donate some of them.”

“Excellent.” He was already returning to the task of listing the grain purchases. It would be nice when the day came that they could hire a steward to manage the details for him.

She kissed the top of his head and left the room to gather her bonnet and driving gloves.

It was a warm August day. The drive to the rectory would be enjoyable. Logan was out riding with Toby, but she had become rather handy with the reins and drove herself places in the pony cart.

An hour later, she reached the parish church. Mr. Morwath was in the back of the rectory cutting the limbs off an overeager hawthorn bush. He was a tall man with stooped shoulders. Every time Cassandra saw him, she always thought he appeared overwhelmed by life.