“Then do it.” Leaving her the sheet, he wrapped the heavy counterpane around him and walked out of the room.
“It would help if you wore nightclothes,” she reminded his retreating figure. His answer was a grin.
But she did have an idea, and she had Miss Edgeworth to thank for it. She would turn her bedroom into Logan’s room. Then she could share Soren’s.
It didn’t take much to make the change. Over breakfast she outlined her plan to Soren and Logan. “I need your help,” she informed her stepson.
“We were going to tell stories,” Logan answered.
She was pleased he remembered. “We can do it as we change the rooms.” He liked that idea.
And, so, while Arabella was moved to a cottage by the house servants, four stable lads helped Logan and her set up what she was calling the “children’s” room. Because, she told him, he was too old for a nursery. He agreed.
She used Miss Edgeworth’s book as a guideline. The first advice was to have only furniture that, should it be spoiled, would not cause anyone grief. Cassandra had her bed moved to the nursery and the nursery’s furniture in her room. She had Logan pick out toys that interested him. There were not many. So, she instructed one of the stable lads, following a suggestion in the book, to cut different shapes and sizes of wood into blocks.
Later, when the room was set up, she and Logan sat on the portico and sanded those blocks of wood so they would not give him splinters. He liked having work. He was also proud of what he’d done and showed his handiwork to his father.
That night, Cassandra slept in her husband’s bed and it was exactly as it should be, although she could not convince either of the men in her life to wear nightclothes.
The next day, she made it a point to call on Arabella. She had Cook prepare a basket of bread, jam, and cheese. “Do you wish to come with me?” she said to her men.
“She sent me a note letting me know she is highly displeased,” Soren answered. “I shall give her more time.”
“And you, Logan? Will you join me?”
He looked to his father. “It is your decision,” Soren told him.
Logan considered the matter in his grave manner that was actually endearing in such a young child. “I will go with you, friend.”
“Do you drive, Cassandra?” Soren asked her.
“It has been some time, but I imagine I could,” she answered. She’d had no need to drive herself in the city.
“I drive,” Logan announced.
“There, you are in good hands,” Soren said.
Cassandra thought he was jesting, until one of the stable lads brought the cart around. Logan set his hat, a miniature version of his father’s, at a rakish angle and picked up the reins.
He barely waited for Cassandra to take a seat before he flicked them and off they went.
She looked back at Soren, who was laughing. “You should see him ride that pony,” he assured her.
It was lovely day for an outing, even though it was a bit overcast. Yesterday, they had told each other stories. Today, Cassandra shared her favorite poems she’d memorized with him. Logan liked the language of the poems, sometimes repeating the words.
Another advantage to having Logan drive was that he knew where he was going. He followed a wagon track through the wood, and on the other side was a house that Cassandra would be hard-pressed to call a cottage.
It might have been a home the first Dewsberry built for his family. It was Elizabethan in style with mullioned windows, a stone roof, and a brick walk. Rooms had been added on over the years. No wonder Soren didn’t have money, she reflected. This was quite an estate to maintain.
One of the maids from the main house answered the door. Cassandra knew that Soren had assigned a number of them to see to his mother’s comfort. “I shall see if she is in to you, my lady. Would you like to come in?”
Logan had stayed by the cart. “Are you coming in with me?” Cassandra asked.
“I will keep my pony company.”
“Don’t ruin your clothes,” she said to him.
His look was one of complete surprise that she would even think of him doing such a thing. She went inside carrying her basket.
