“She is my wife,” Soren answered gently.
“My mother was your wife.”
“Yes, and your mother has left us.” Soren’s tone was infinitely patient, the way a father’s should be.
“Is she the wealthy woman?” Logan asked.
Cassandra doubted anyone had said as much to him. Well, perhaps Arabella. But he was a clever youngster. He probably heard everything that happened in the house.
“Your friend is my wife,” Soren answered in a firm tone.
The look on Logan’s face let her know it would be some time beforeheconsidered her a friend.
She took bite of her sandwich. “I hope I have an appetite for dinner.” She tried to sound cheery in the silence between father and son.
“Cassandra, I believe Logan and I need a moment.”
She didn’t question the request but swiftly rose. Soren and his son came to their feet out of respect. Logan stood on his own, but his hand slipped into his father’s. The child was a strange mix of fierce independence and needy insecurity, an insecurity she understood too well.
She excused herself, and lacking anywhere else to go after leaving the library, she took a turn on the back portico. The days were growing warmer. The flower beds desperately needed tending. It didn’t look as if anyone had paid attention to them for years. Here was a project she could take on. Soren encouraged her to find a passion. Many a lady enjoyed gardening, although she didn’t believe she would.
From this vantage point, she could hear voices from the library. Logan had turned very talkative. As she reentered the house and passed the library door, she caught sight of Soren and his son. Logan sat in his own chair, stuffing sandwiches in his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in months while chatting happily. Soren seemed to be hanging on his son’s every word. As she watched, he lightly touched the back of his son’s head as if offering a benediction.
It was the gentlest gesture Cassandra had ever seen a man perform—
“He dotes on the child.” Arabella’s disapproving voice startled her. Cassandra had been so caught up in her thoughts, she had not heard her approach. The older woman stood in the doorway of an adjacent room.
Cassandra walked over to her mother-in-law, not wanting Arabella’s words to carry into the library. “They have not seen each other for some time.”
“I have little patience with coddling,” Arabella said. She looked Cassandra up and down, obviously unimpressed. “You know why he went after you, don’t you? He wanted your money. And your land. It is the only way a York would ever marry a Holwell.” Her gaze went past Cassandra to the library. “His father married me for my money and my life has been miserable ever since.”
For the briefest of seconds, her directness unnerved Cassandra. Arabella was going to be unpleasantly surprised when she learned how little money Soren’s marriage had brought to Pentreath. Or, and this was a new thought, that Cassandra wasn’t truly a Holwell and therefore,wouldn’tinherit Lantern Fields. Who knew who she was? And in this moment, for the first time, she found herself glad of it.
Never again would she have to feel an invisible wall around her because of her father and his prejudices. Soren had been right, there was a measure of freedom in the acceptance of this new truth.
However, Cassandra decided it was not her place to enlighten Arabella.
In a moment’s clarity, she realized she did not want to be aloof or distrusting like either Arabella or Helen. These were women who had nothing but their place in Society to give them authority.
She wanted more. And Soren had been right, she wouldn’t have been happy resting on a title. Even when she’d dreamed of being a duchess, it was because then she could pursue her enjoyment of poetry and ideas... and Soren’s suggestion of her writing came to her mind. What avid reader such as herself had not imagined writing a book?
It still didn’t seem the most appealing thing she could do with her time and energy—but she now, with the acquaintance of Arabella, understood why Soren urged her to discover what shewaspassionate about.
“I shall see you at dinner,” Cassandra said, excusing herself and wanting to put distance between herself and this woman, who was one of many she’d met who had no life.
She went up to her room. She had no difficulty finding it.
Cassandra pulled the valise from her wardrobe, removed the false bottom, and took out the garnets. The stones were bloodred and the gold around them heavy. She seldom wore them. The pearls had been her favorite, and she was discovering the one pearl was enough for her.
Now she considered her true motive for keeping them hidden from Soren. Yes, her mother’s memory was involved, but so was her fear to trust, to act in good faith.
She went to search out her husband.
Chapter 19
It had been a long day. Watching his son eat as if he hadn’t had food in days, Soren struggled to keep his anger in check.
Toby, the head of Logan’s search party, had mentioned that life had not been good for the child over the month Soren had been gone. With a few quiet questions, Soren had learned that the nurse he’d hired, a grandmotherly Mrs. Williams with family in the area, had refused to lock Logan in his room on a daily basis and had been let go.
