“So, you’d always meant to return to Pentreath after we married because your son is there.”
Soren sat back. Somberly he admitted, “I hoped we could work out something that would meet both of our needs. Back when we thought there would be money,” he added.
“And you don’t think you were being a bit deceptive with me?” she wondered. “You knew I didn’t hear you speak of a son yesterday.”
“I did.”
She drew a deep breath. “Then when were you going to tell me all of this so that I clearly understood?”
“When we had a moment together.”
“We had many moments together last night,” she pointed out.
A muscle tightened in his jaw. “We were preoccupied,” he answered.
He was right.
And Cassandra didn’t know how she would have reacted to all of this information if she’d learned it earlier. Would she have refused to marry him? This was not how she’d expected her life to be. Havinghada stepmother, she had never thought tobeone.
“Logan is my heir, Cassandra.” His voice was firm. “I will not set him aside for anyone. Mary and I had a Christian marriage.”
“She was Christian?”
“Yes.”
That information surprised her.
“I will love and value our children,” he continued, “but it is my hope, indeed, my deepest desire, that you will accept and nurture Logan.”
“And how does he feel about all of this? Won’t he wish to return to Canada?”
“Perhaps. Someday maybe and I will help him when he does. However, my concern is right now. Logan has had a great deal of upheaval in his life. While I’m here, he has been in my mother’s charge. Pentreath is not Logan’s first choice, either. Perhaps the two of you will have something in common.”
He extended his hand across the desk. “We can make this marriage work, Cassandra. In spite of everything that has happened today, I ask you to believe in me. I also know I must return to Cornwall. Will you come with me?”
She looked at his hand.
“I doubt Logan wants a stepmother,” she murmured.
“It will not be a problem. Logan is accustomed to listening to many women. It was part of his culture.”
A new thought struck her. “Does he speak English?”
“Absolutely. I told you he was a smart one. His English is as good as ours.”
“And he is how old?”
“Five, I think. There aren’t good records.”
“He must have a day that is known as his birth date?”
“The Lenape don’t think of time as you and I. Age is also not that important.” He lifted his hand, showing her it was still being offered to her.
She knew she had little choice. She had nothing. She didn’t even know who she was any longer.
And what about Society? Was there anything for her in London? Once the gossip started about her father spending her inheritance, Soren would be a laughingstock. He’d married the heiress who wasn’t.
Humbling, so humbling...
