She thought a moment more on it. “The Rising Dove School for Boys and Girls.”
Soren winced as if the second name was worse. Then he said, “How about the Dewsberry School? Because this will be your concept, Cassandra. You will have the running of it.”
“The Dewsberry School.” She liked it. “Everyone in the area will know exactly where it was located.”
“The name will also burnish the title,” Soren observed. “We will go from a reputation of being gamesters and spendthrifts to gentlemen, gentlewomen, and scholars.”
“Yes,” she agreed with enthusiasm. “This is somethingIwish to do.”
“Then do it, Cass. Do it with my blessing and make a gentleman out of that child.” He nodded for her to look up. Logan had climbed to the top of the sheep shed. He’d shucked off his shoes and stockings and walked the roof line.
“He will be hard to tame,” she predicted.
“I don’t want him to lose his spirit, but I want him to succeed in the world. Therefore, he is your first pupil.”
Her reply was to kiss him for being so generous and encouraging. “Now to make plans.” She set off for the house at a brisk pace, but then stopped and looked back at him. “Oh, and your mother knows about your father’s mistress. And, if you ever—” she started, pointing a finger for emphasis.
“Never,” he swore crossing his heart. “You are woman enough for me, love. It is all I can do to keep up with you. Now, go create your school.”
She threw him a kiss and hurried away.
Chapter 21
The Dewsberry School took over Cassandra’s imagination and her life. It gave her a sense of purpose. She used Miss Edgeworth’s thoughtful wisdom to prepare a philosophy for the school. She didn’t care if she had twenty pupils or only Logan. What mattered was opening minds.
The next weeks were a blur of activity. Mrs. Branwell ran the house. Cassandra would meet with her most mornings to discuss menus and the like and then the two women would go about their day.
Over time, a growing respect for each other began to form.
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.
