Caught in a Cornish Scandal by Eleanor Webster (top novels of all time .txt) 📗

little shyly. ‘Right now, it is just an idea. I realised that you and Sally are right. People deserve choice. Education is one way to give people options so that it is not a choice between the mines or smuggling.’

She kissed him. ‘I love that idea. We can get a building, hire a teacher or I could teach.’

‘Maybe we will open schools in other towns or run for political office and change the world.’

‘One coastal town at a time. Sam, I never thought—I have never felt like this before.’ She spoke with an appealing wonder, curiosity threading the soft huskiness of her tone. ‘Like the world has options and choices and excitement.’

‘I have not either.’ He looked at her and the soft movement of her finger against his chest. ‘I feel, for the first time in for ever, that I am not a solitary creature.’

‘And I feel for the first time ever, that I am the sort of woman to find romance. I never thought I was.’

‘And what sort of woman finds romance?’

‘The debutante type. I am more...dull.’

He laughed. ‘Dull? You saved me from drowning and chased down criminals. You’re anything but dull.’

‘Very well, I have adventurous moments, but not exactly in a “happily ever after” way.’

He ran his fingers down her cheeks so that he cupped her chin. ‘That’s because this is not about happy endings. This is the happy beginnings. This is our happy beginning.’

Epilogue

Millie sat at the desk in the small cottage which had been converted into a schoolroom. Gerald added some fuel to the fire and a flurry of sparks chased up the chimney. There had been frost this morning and the air felt chilly with the nip of the coming winter.

‘Go now,’ she said to her young helper. ‘I see your mother and sister are here.’

He left and she waved to Sally through the window and watched them leave, heading towards the harbour. From this vantage point, she could see the ocean. It was a nice day, but the sun was already low in the sky so that the sky was a pink gold and the waves were bright with diamond sparkles.

Sam rounded the corner and she smiled, waving. Standing, she started to collect her things, ready to go home. She paused for a moment, watching his fluid movement as he strode forward. Silhouetted against the diamond sparkles, he looked strong, broad and purposeful. He carried several books, which had most likely arrived in the afternoon post.

There had been some initial hesitation among the villagers about the school. Some children feared it might limit their freedom and a few determinedly remained down by the sea. Sam had been smart and had merely walked down with the other children and they’d scrambled among the rock pools, learning about the fish, the tides and the crustaceans. He’d made it all so lively that attendance had grown. Flora’s fresh baked bread or, on occasion, tea treat buns, served mid-morning had proved an added enticement.

Sam entered. ‘Two new volumes of Virgil.’

‘And the primers for English?’ she asked.

‘They should arrive soon. I have also translated Row, Row, Row Your Boat into Latin if you would care to teach it to the younger children.’

‘One cannot start a classical education too soon,’ she said.

‘I also have some new ideas for mathematics and thought that next year we should go to London. I believe I could convince the Philanthropic Society to support us.’

‘Sounds wonderful, but let us get home now. I am so excited that Frances and Noah have decided to visit. Mother is so much better now that she gets such constant news from the city.’

She stood, packing a few items before pausing, frowning briefly.

‘You do not think that a visit to Cornwall will negatively impact Frances’s health, do you?’

He pressed a kiss to her head. ‘She is much better,’ he said. ‘She will be fine.’

They started to walk across the floor to the outer door, before Millie stopped, hurrying back to her desk. ‘I mustn’t forget my knitting.’

She pulled open a drawer. She had experienced limited success with tatting or netting and hoped to manage better with knitting.

‘I’m making something for Noah,’ she explained, pulling out a bundle that included a ball of wool and two needles, one of which was attached to a five-inch square of knitting.

‘A woolly handkerchief?’ Sam asked dubiously.

‘It was supposed to be an article of clothing.’

‘Clothing? He does have arms.’

‘A scarf,’ Millie said. ‘And I have every hope that I will achieve this by Christmas.’ After all, it was only October.

With the knitting collected, they gave a final look about the small school and then exited, closing the door behind them and walking into the village. They were going to meet Lillian, who wanted to do a little shopping, and then take the carriage home together. Flora was organising preparations for Frances’s visit and had been giving the cook all manner of directions. Indeed, she was in her element now she had a staff once more.

Millie sighed, tucking her hand into Sam’s elbow.

‘Happy?’ he asked.

‘So very, very happy.’

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Keep reading for an excerpt from The Warrior’s Innocent Captive by Ella Matthews.

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The Warrior’s Innocent Captive

by Ella Matthews

Chapter One

Ogmore’s fortress—winter 1331

Candlelight flickered from sconces high up on the Great Hall’s walls. The press of people watching the various entertainments kept the temperature from plummeting on the cold winter’s evening.

Erik Ward stood still, his arms folded in front of his chest. In front of him, puppeteers performed a ribald comedy. Those around him laughed as something happened, but he missed the action. Opposite him, across the semi-circle of spectators, stood Linota Leofric. Her long,