10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jethro felt the grip on his arm and sensed Cassandra’s alarm. A deep desire to protect his wife surged through his body.

His wife. If he said it often enough, perhaps he would believe it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a lady making her way toward them. He didn’t stop to find out who she was. There was no doubt his wife wished to avoid her.

“Are you ready to leave, Cassandra?”

“Yes.”

The abruptness of her response confirmed his suspicions. She had no desire to converse with this woman.

Before the lady could reach them, he whisked Cassandra through the door of the church and out into the fresh sea air.

There were times when an unsociable reputation was useful. No one would think twice about him avoiding conversation.

Jethro tried not to look at Cassandra as they strode down St Mary Street. He had not thought she could appear to such advantage. The sun lightened the blonde tints in her brown hair that peeked out from under her bonnet.

It was dangerous to think of her as attractive as it might tempt him to breach the business arrangement they had—an arrangement he was determined to keep .

Once inside their house, Cassandra turned toward him. She seemed to struggle to find what she wanted to say.

“Thank you,” she spat out.

“For what?”

“Rescuing me from that dreadful woman.”

“Who was it? I didn’t see.”

“Eugenia Wilson. No. Not Wilson anymore”—her face screwed up in contempt—“Frampton. Do you know her?”

Jethro grunted. “As much as I ever want to.” He’d formed his low opinion of the woman the previous December when she’d stirred up trouble for Crowley.

“Her husband is my greatest rival in Weymouth. I don’t care for his wife, but what have you got against her?”

“Her marriage.”

“You can hardly blame her for choosing to marry a wealthy man, and Frampton is a great deal wealthier than me.”

Cassandra bit her lip. “How would you have felt if I had sent you word on Saturday morning that I had changed my mind and did not want to marry you?”

Jethro would not meet her eyes when he answered. “Disappointed. Why? Did you consider it?”

“Yes. Didn’t you?”

“No. I made my decision the moment I read your advert. I couldn’t make you agree, but I somehow felt God was in it, and that you would say yes.”

She tilted her head to one side, a habit of hers that Jethro had noticed. “I had not thought I was an answer to your prayers. I certainly believed you were an answer to mine. But it did not stop me doubting whether I was doing the right thing. It all happened so fast. If I had cried off, it would, perhaps, have been understandable, though I would still have broken my word. But what if we had been engaged for six months, a year, or more?”

“I suppose the longer the engagement, the greater the disappointment.”

The pinched look around Cassandra’s mouth became more pronounced. “I would go further than that and call it a betrayal. Eugenia Frampton is the woman who was betrothed to my brother Alexander before he sailed, just over two years ago. Without warning, she broke off the engagement and married another. Do you not think that is some cause for resentment?”

“Yes, but if she’s fickle, it is better he should know of it before his marriage rather than after. No man wants an unfaithful wife.”

Colour flooded Cassandra’s cheeks. What had he said wrong? It was no more than the truth. But was it improper of him to speak so frankly?

“Forgive me. I did not mean to cause offence.”

“It is no matter. I was just shocked by your blunt assessment of my brother’s situation. I had not thought of it like that before, and I doubt Xander will see it in that light. Regardless, thank you for sparing me from having to talk to Eugenia today. It won’t stop her from speculating about our marriage, but I did not want to face her yet, while I am still growing accustomed to being your wife.”

Something pulled at Jethro’s insides. Was it so hard to adjust to having him as a husband? He supposed it must be. She was used to being around gentlemen, and he was not of her class.

“I was so delighted not to have to talk to Eugenia I could have hugged you. I thought better of it, not wishing to embarrass you, though it might have persuaded the gossips we held each other in affection.”

Jethro’s pulse quickened just thinking of his wife’s arms around him. The prospect was more inviting than he cared to admit.

But no sooner had the notion entered his mind, then his ears started to ring, as if his mother was standing over him, boxing them all over again. How dare you, Jethro Hunt? A true gentleman does not behave like that.

The old accusation sent heat coursing up his neck and it threatened to flood his cheeks. Jethro willed it to subside, desperate to regain command of his emotions. He hated losing control.

He focused on the rest of Cassandra’s words. What was it she had said? It might have persuaded the gossips we held each other in affection.

The heat faded without effort as the implication sunk in. A hug would have presented a picture of mutual regard—a regard which needed to be pretended.

Or did it?

Jethro already cared about his wife’s welfare. He wasn’t sure where the concern had come from. On their wedding day, she’d ruffled his peace and received the lash of his tongue. But somewhere during the course of the few days they’d been married, he’d grown decidedly protective of his wife.

How had that happened? He hardly knew her. Was it the promises he’d made? Perhaps. Only time would tell. But it could prove awkward if this protectiveness turned into something more. Especially if any affection on her side had to be fabricated .

Emotions were messy, uncontrollable things, as he had just proved. They would only complicate matters. He needed to keep his marriage on a businesslike footing. It would be better to maintain his distance. Not lose control.

He would never have risen to become a successful merchant if he’d got choked up every time events hadn’t gone according to plan. His marriage was just the same. His business principles would ensure he kept both his feet planted firmly on the ground.

“Forgive me for deserting you again so soon,” he said, “but I wish to spend some time in private devotion.”

With a brief nod toward her, he fled to his study, but not before he’d noticed the disappointment in her eyes, as if she truly regretted his abrupt departure.

All the more reason to leave. He needed space. Time to think. Away from his wife.