“Now then,” she addressed the children once more, “who would like to show us the way to the old cottage?”
Every small hand shot into the air, accompanied by eager voices clamoring to be chosen. Samantha laughed, the sound bright in the morning air.
“Perhaps our young mathematics prodigy and our vocabulary enthusiast might lead the way,” she suggested, nodding to the two children Percy had singled out.
The children presented themselves with a mix of caution and eagerness. “This way, Your Graces,” she said with careful enunciation that spoke of a child determined to live up to Percy’s praise.
As they set off, the rest of the children fell in behind them like a small, chattering honor guard, with Percy immediately resuming his interrupted tale of dragons and heroes to their delight. Samantha found herself walking beside Ewan, their hands occasionally brushing as they navigated the narrow lane leading toward the millpond.
“You’ve quite won them over,” he observed quietly, nodding toward the villagers who watched their procession with expressions ranging from curiosity to cautious hope.
“I’ve done nothing yet,” she demurred, echoing his words from their conversation in the garden.
His fingers caught hers briefly, a touch hidden from view by the folds of her skirts. “You’ve shown them you see them,” he replied, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “Never underestimate the power of that, my tigress.”
The warmth that spread through her at his words had nothing to do with the bright spring sunshine and everything to do with theman walking beside her—the man who, against all expectations, had become not merely her husband but her most steadfast ally.
The cottage, when they reached it, proved both better and worse than Samantha had anticipated. Situated on a slight rise overlooking the millpond, it offered a picturesque setting with ample natural light—a crucial consideration for a schoolroom. However, the structure itself had clearly suffered from years of neglect.
“The roof will need to be entirely replaced,” Mr. Finchley, the estate steward, explained as they toured the interior. He was a tall, thin man with the perpetually harried expression of someone with too many responsibilities. “And there’s considerable damage to the eastern wall where water has seeped in.”
Samantha nodded, making notes in the small leather-bound journal she had brought for this purpose. “What of the foundation?”
“Sound enough, Your Grace. Built on good stone, this was.” Mr. Finchley tapped his foot on the plank flooring. “Though the floorboards have seen better days.”
“The windows are a gift,” she observed, moving to examine the large, mullioned openings that would provide excellent illumination for reading and writing. “Though they’ll need proper glazing to keep out the winter drafts.”
Ewan, who had been examining the massive stone fireplace that dominated one wall, turned to them with a thoughtful expression. “The chimney appears in good condition. With proper cleaning and a new grate, it should provide adequate heating.”
“What do you think, William?” Samantha asked, noticing how the boy was studying the room with careful attention. “Will this serve as a proper schoolroom once it’s repaired?”
The child looked startled at being directly addressed by the duchess, but recovered quickly. “It’s bigger than our cottage, Your Grace,” he offered seriously. “But where would the teacher sleep?”
“An excellent question,” she praised, impressed by his practical consideration. “I believe we might partition a small section for the teacher’s quarters, don’t you think, Your Grace?”
Ewan nodded, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners in the way that had become so dear to her. “A sound suggestion. Perhaps at the western end, where the second fireplace is located.”
“And there must be shelves for books,” Heather piped up from where she had been quietly listening to the adults’ conversation. “Many, many books.”
“Indeed, there must,” Samantha agreed solemnly. “A school without books would be like a garden without flowers.”
The girl’s face lit up at this comparison, and she offered a shy smile that transformed her solemn countenance. “My mother grows roses,” she confided. “The red ones smell the sweetest.”
“Your mother has excellent taste,” Samantha replied, charmed by this glimpse into the child’s life. “Perhaps when the school is completed, we might plant some roses along the path.”
While she continued her conversation with Heather, Percy had gathered the other children in the large central room and appeared to be organizing some sort of activity. Samantha watched with growing curiosity as he arranged them in a circle, giving each child a specific instruction in a voice too low for her to hear.
“What mischief is your nephew plotting now?” she asked Ewan, who had been consulting with Mr. Finchley about the estimated costs of the repairs.
He followed her gaze, his expression shifting from concern to cautious interest. “I’m not entirely certain, though I note a suspicious absence of poetry recitation thus far.”
As they watched, Percy stepped into the center of the circle and raised his hands dramatically. “And now, my young friends, we shall demonstrate for Their Graces the grand astronomical dance of the planets!”
“Oh dear,” Ewan murmured, though there was more amusement than apprehension in his tone.
To Samantha’s surprise, what followed was not the chaotic spectacle she had half-expected, but a surprisingly organized performance. Each child, it seemed, had been assigned the role of a celestial body, with Percy serving as the sun at the center of their solar system. They began to move in concentric circles around him, their orbits intersecting in a pattern that, while somewhat uneven due to the varying sizes and coordination of the children, nevertheless conveyed a basic understanding of planetary movement.
“Mercury travels fastest, closest to the sun!” Percy declared as a small boy darted in tight circles around him. “While stately Saturn moves with dignified grace along his distant path!” This was accompanied by a larger girl who walked with exaggerated slowness at the outer edge of their improvised cosmos.