17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Cassandra sat in the drawing room alone, pondering her husband’s strange behaviour. It was obvious to her he’d wanted Gilbert to leave, and to judge by his abrupt departure, the curate had been aware of it too. But what had he done to offend Jethro? Or was it her conduct that had upset him?

Surely, her husband could not object to her receiving a church minister alone. And if he did, it was hardly fair. It was his own fault. He should have joined her to receive their guests.

The minutes dragged by, but still Jethro did not reappear. She could hear distant voices in the hall, but could not make out the words. What was he saying to Gilbert? She hoped he was not making him uncomfortable because of her indiscretion— if , indeed, she had been indiscreet.

The door opened again, and she looked up, expecting to see her husband, but it was her maid. She bobbed a curtsey and took a seat in the far corner of the room.

Cassandra did not need to ask why she was there. Mary Ann was to be her chaperon, because Jethro was not coming back. He was too busy to spend one morning in her company, but still objected to her seeing gentleman visitors alone.

She let out a sigh. Yet another example of her husband restricting her movements, but giving her no more of his company. It was a wonder he hadn’t sent his spy to record every conversation she had. Perhaps that would satisfy his need to control her and would be far easier than tying up his time with her. What was a wife, after all, but an unpaid servant that he could pick up and put down as he pleased?

“Mr and Mrs Gibbons, madam.”

Cassandra welcomed the sexton and his wife and settled into a comfortable exchange as she enquired after their family. They congratulated her on her marriage and accepted her apologies for her husband’s absence without a murmur.

Over the next two hours, she entertained a stream of visitors, giving to each of them the same line—that Jethro regretted he was unable to join them. She did her best to make his excuses, not mentioning the business unless necessary, though every one of them knew how her husband had amassed his wealth, so perhaps she did not need to cover for him.

The drawing room was at its fullest at three o’clock, with three ladies who seemed bent on squeezing every last detail about her home and marriage from Cassandra. She wilted under the constant barrage of questions, some of which she answered, and others she skipped over with great aplomb.

A lull fell as another visitor was announced. Mrs Frampton. Cassandra’s stomach clenched as Eugenia glided into the drawing room with all the assurance of a wealthy married woman and greeted her as if they were bosom friends.

Eugenia gazed around the room, and pressed her lips together, making a show of stifling a chuckle.

“My, my. How quaint. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Bartlett?” she said, addressing one of the other ladies.

The woman tittered in response, and Cassandra gritted her teeth to prevent herself from rising to the bait.

“I confess, you are braver than I thought, Cassandra. I would never have dared open my house to visitors before making alterations to a room like this. Mr Frampton gave me free rein to redecorate our home on our marriage, but I did not have such a challenge as you face.”

The other ladies remained silent, hanging on her response.

Cassandra forced a smile. “I did not wish to appear discourteous by delaying welcoming guests to my new home.”

“You are too good, but you really must beg Mr Hunt to let you bring this room into the nineteenth century, though it might prove too dear an undertaking as you would have to throw out all the furnishings and start from scratch. ”

Cassandra suffered every jibe as if Eugenia were poking her with a stick rather than words, but she would not give her the satisfaction of showing it. What had Xander ever seen in this spiteful woman?

“Then it is fortunate I did not rush into so large a project,” she said, in as calm a voice as she could muster. “To spend such an enormous sum of money requires much consideration, and you forget, I have only been married a few weeks. I need time to devour Chippendale’s catalogue, to ensure we invest in furniture that won’t require replacing in five years.”

Eugenia gave an exaggerated gasp. “What a daring plan. I could not contemplate keeping the same decorations for so long. I daresay I will change them again if I prefer yours to mine. But what fun to have a blank canvas to work with. I’m quite jealous that my husband’s taste was not so poor as to merit the same treatment.”

Cassandra bowed her head in response, uncertain how to answer such a piece of impertinence. Perhaps the dreadful woman would leave now she had won a minor victory, but Eugenia had not finished.

“Your marriage was rather sudden .”

Cassandra’s smile did not waver, but her heart pounded so loudly, she supposed the entire room could hear it. Just what was Eugenia implying? “There was no reason to wait.”

“But was there reason to hurry?” she continued, lowering her gaze to Cassandra’s stomach and back to her eyes.

Heat rushed to Cassandra’s face. Though Jethro had dismissed Sally for saying much the same thing, she was unprepared to deal with such a direct attack from someone who purported to be a lady.

Was there no limit to Eugenia’s rudeness? How dare she cast such a slur on her reputation or Jethro’s?

“Yes, there was reason to hurry, as I’m sure you are aware. I needed to vacate my father’s house before the new tenant arrived.”

“What a pity you didn’t come to me as we’d planned.”

Eugenia’s words hit Cassandra full in the stomach and winded her.

How could she talk like that? Nothing would have made Cassandra accept help from the woman who had jilted her brother.

Understanding dawned. Was this what it was all about? To make Eugenia appear the heroine of the piece and Cassandra the ungrateful villain?

“Your sister did not seek my aid either, but she avoided taking such a drastic step. She obtained a position at Miss Seymour’s School. Why didn’t you do the same? ”

Cassandra’s breath grew ragged. Why was Eugenia so determined to humiliate her? “My sister is better suited to teaching than I am.”

“But couldn’t you have taken alternative employment? As a companion, maybe?”

“I could have, but why would I wish to take up such a role when Mr Hunt wanted me to marry him?”

“Is that how it was? Why, you sly creature, I can’t believe there was a romance taking place right under my nose without my knowledge.”

Eugenia’s eyes flicked to Cassandra’s stomach again and then back to her face. “How wise of you to marry Mr Hunt rather than coming to me for help.”

With this final jibe, Eugenia rose to her feet and the other ladies followed suit. Cheeks glowing with heat, Cassandra rang the bell and forced out her farewell greetings as Young arrived to show them out.

Once they had gone, Cassandra informed the footman she was no longer at home to visitors, and retreated to her bedroom. After shutting the door behind her, she stood, staring out of the window, wringing her hands as she relived the dreadful afternoon in her mind.

Part of her told her to ignore Eugenia’s snide comments, but the rest of her shrivelled up under their poisonous message.

Gone was the brave facade she had worn downstairs, as she had faced the humiliating insinuations alone. The spiteful creature would never have dared say such things if Jethro had been at her side as he should have been.

Would Cassandra ever be able to show her face in Weymouth society again? Had Eugenia convinced the others she was a fallen woman, thrown into the arms of a lover because she had rejected her help?

Only time would prove that her husband hadn’t been obliged to marry her, but it would be too late by then. Eugenia’s words would already have taken root and spread like a weed, causing damage wherever the gossip seeped.

The dam broke. She collapsed onto her bed as the tears began to fall, pouring down her cheeks and racking her body with sobs.

What would Jethro say when he heard? Would he be angry at the slur on his character and wish he’d never married her?