Page 78 of The Spinster and Her Rakish Duke
The other children followed their cues with varying degrees of success, their faces alight with the joy of performance and the novelty of embodying celestial bodies.
“I had no idea Percy possessed such knowledge of astronomy,” Samantha remarked, genuinely impressed by the educational nature of what had initially appeared to be mere theatrics.
“Nor did I,” Ewan admitted, watching his nephew with new appreciation. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always had a fascination with the night sky—used to beg Matthew to let him stay up to observe the stars.”
The mention of Percy’s father—Ewan’s beloved cousin—brought a momentary shadow to his features that Samantha recognizedall too well. She slipped her hand into his, a brief, comforting touch that conveyed understanding without words.
“He has a gift for teaching,” she observed softly. “Look how he holds their attention, how he makes the learning a joy rather than a chore.”
Indeed, the children were fully engaged in their cosmic dance, laughing as they navigated their orbital paths, yet clearly absorbing the basic principles Percy was explaining with enthusiastic gestures.
“The moon circles our Earth,” he was saying as a tiny girl with blonde plaits revolved around a sturdier boy, “just as Earth circles the sun, in an eternal dance choreographed by the hand of creation itself!”
“A trifle poetic,” Ewan commented, “but essentially accurate.”
Samantha squeezed his hand gently before releasing it. “Perhaps there’s a place for poetry in education after all.”
The look he gave her then—a mixture of surprise, consideration, and warming affection—made her heart skip a beat despite the prosaic surroundings and the audience of villagers who had gathered to watch the impromptu astronomy lesson.
When Percy’s demonstration concluded with a grand bow and enthusiastic applause from the assembled children and adults alike, Samantha found herself joining in wholeheartedly.There was something undeniably charming about his ability to transform a dilapidated cottage into an imaginary cosmos through sheer force of imagination and enthusiasm.
“That was most educational, Lord Stonehall,” she said as he approached, flushed with success and surrounded by his admiring young students. “I had no idea you were so knowledgeable about the heavens.”
Percy beamed at her praise. “The stars have always fascinated me, Aunt Samantha. Each one a burning poem written in the ink of night, visible only to those who lift their gaze above the mundane concerns of earthly existence.”
“And we nearly made it an entire day without metaphors,” Ewan sighed, though the hand he placed on Percy’s shoulder conveyed pride rather than censure.
“Merely one, Uncle,” Percy pointed out reasonably.
Samantha laughed, unable to help herself. “Indeed. And most impressively applied to education rather than romantic pursuits.”
“The children are a far more appreciative audience than most drawing rooms,” Percy confided with unexpected pragmatism. “They actually wish to learn, rather than merely appear to do so.”
This observation, delivered without Percy’s usual dramatic flourish, struck Samantha as surprisingly insightful. There was more to the young viscount than his theatrical tendencies suggested—a depth of understanding that she had perhaps been too quick to dismiss.
“Their enthusiasm is a gift,” she agreed, watching as the children continued to orbit each other even without Percy’s direction, clearly delighted with their new understanding of celestial mechanics. “One I hope we can nurture with this school.”
“Speaking of which,” Ewan interjected, his practical nature reasserting itself, “I believe Mr. Finchley has completed his assessment of the repairs needed. Shall we review his findings?”
They gathered around the small table Mr. Finchley had appropriated for his notes, the steward outlining the necessary work with methodical precision. The list was substantial but not insurmountable—new roofing, repairs to the damaged wall, replacement of rotted floorboards, proper glazing for the windows, plastering and whitewashing of the interior walls.
“And of course, suitable furniture must be acquired,” Samantha added, mentally tallying the costs. “Desks, benches, a proper table for the teacher, shelving for books…”
“The estate carpenters could fashion those items,” Mr. Finchley suggested. “Would save considerable expense compared to having them brought from London.”
“An excellent suggestion,” Ewan approved. “And perhaps some of the older village boys might assist with the simpler aspects of the construction. It would provide them with useful skills and a sense of ownership in the project.”
“Most wise, Uncle,” Percy interjected, having joined their discussion after extracting himself from his young admirers. “Nothing breeds respect for a structure like having helped build it with one’s own hands.”
Samantha glanced at him with renewed appreciation for his insight. “Precisely so, Percy. And it would help forge connections between the school and the families it will serve.”
As they continued to discuss the practical aspects of the renovation, Samantha found herself increasingly aware of Ewan’s presence beside her—the solid warmth of him, the quiet authority with which he addressed Mr. Finchley’s concerns, the occasional brush of his arm against hers as they leaned over the plans. Even amid the most mundane details of construction, she felt the pull of attraction between them, a constant awareness that had only grown stronger with familiarity rather than diminishing as she had once feared it might.
When their discussion concluded and Mr. Finchley departed to begin organizing the necessary materials and labor, Ewan suggested they take a final tour of the grounds to envision the completed project. The children had mostly dispersed by then, called home for midday meals or chores, though William and Heather lingered nearby, clearly reluctant to end their interaction with the noble visitors.
“Perhaps our young friends might show us the path to the millpond,” Samantha suggested, noting their wistful expressions. “I understand it’s quite picturesque.”
The children brightened immediately, Heather executing another of her careful curtsies. “It’s very pretty, Your Grace. There are ducks and sometimes a heron that stands very still in the shallows.”
