She squared her shoulders. “Are we taking the mail to Cornwall? Or do we have the funds to travel privately?” She believed she was being very brave to put forth the idea of the mail. It was a horrible, crowded way to travel, but she’d do what she must.
“I thought we would go by chaise.”
She couldn’t hide her relief, and Soren laughed. While she prepared for them to leave at the hotel, he made arrangements for a vehicle. Within two hours, they were on the road.
And Cassandra regretfully said farewell to the city that had once been her every dream.
Chapter 15
One thing Soren had learned over his years was that chasing vengeance was an empty endeavor. There would come a time when Holwell would pay for his betrayal, but it would not be at Soren’s expense.
He firmly believed the best action he and Cassandra could take was to pour their energy into something that had meaning, such as Pentreath. His vision was of the two of them and Logan living as a family.
He knew Cassandra had doubts. He’d had a moment’s twinge when he’d brought the post chaise and driver to the hotel to collect her. She could have bolted, but she hadn’t.
And he was pleased, because he was in love with his wife.
Deeply in love.
And it had little to do with their bed sport, although that made him very happy. Every man wanted a partner who matched him in passion.
However, Cass had always attracted him. The youthful infatuation he’d felt for her had given way to a strong admiration for her resilience. He knew how hard leaving London was for her. He’d felt the same when he’d left Canada.
She had stared out the window as they rode through London as if she would memorize all the sights and sounds.
Once they left the city, she’d lowered her head, resting it in her arms as if in deep grief.
“It will grow easier, Cassandra.”
She nodded but didn’t look at him. In time, she fell asleep in that pose. He reached over and gently pulled her to rest her head on his shoulder. His thought was to make her comfortable—
“Why did you marry your first wife?”
Ah, so she wasn’t asleep. Soren shifted his weight so he could settle them both more comfortably in the close quarters of the post chaise’s interior. The road was good here and the ride smooth for a hired vehicle. The afternoon sky had promised rain, but the clouds were beginning to clear.
He answered her question because he had vowed honesty. He wanted her trust. “I thought she was the most exotic woman I’d ever met.”
Cass stirred. “Exotic?”
“Being an interpreter is man’s work. She didn’t hesitate to take her rightful place. I told you the Lenape were matriarchal.”
“To the point they’d let their women roam freely?”
“Her father trusted our commander. We valued our native allies and knew our boundaries. Mary was treated with respect.”
Her head returned to his shoulder. “I can’t imagine having such freedom. Or purpose.” Her voice was wistful.
Soren found her hand and laced their fingers together. “You will have freedom in Cornwall,” he said, wanting to make his point. “You will be the lady of Pentreath. You may do as you wish.”
“But what will there be to do?” She paused and then added, “Besides pleasing you?”
“Cassandra, there will be plenty. Were you raised on a pillow to be carried everywhere?”
“I was chaperoned and escorted and watched everywhere I went,” she said in her defense. “My father insisted on approving who I saw and what I did... while he was stealing what had been rightfully mine. It was all a ruse.”
“Then live areallife,” Soren answered. “Find what gives you meaning.”
“It is easy for you to say those words. You are male. You can do whatever you wish.”
