2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jethro gave a single nod in acknowledgement of Miss Vincent’s answer. What a sensible woman she was. Such a composed manner. No excess of emotion. Once he had assured her his intentions were honourable, she had weighed up her options like a good businessperson and accepted his proposal as the most favourable alternative.

“It will take me a few days to travel to Bristol and procure a licence for us to wed. I will talk to the curate on my return, but I see no difficulty in arranging for the ceremony to take place on Monday morning. I’m certain Mr Barnes will accommodate us when he understands the urgency of your situation.”

He laced his hands together as they rested on his desk. “I will arrange for your belongings to be brought here before the service, if that is acceptable.”

“Thank you.”

He rang for the footman to show Miss Vincent out and stood as she rose to leave. Their gazes met, and she tilted her head to one side, a quizzical look in her eye, as if waiting for something. What did she expect from him? Some display of affection that they both knew to be false?

No. She had agreed to a business arrangement, and they would treat it as such. He walked around the desk toward her and extended his arm. She paused for a moment before slipping her small hand inside his and shaking it to seal their agreement .

“Good day, Mr Hunt,” she said in her well-bred tone, dipping into a curtsey.

Jethro bowed. “Good day, Miss Vincent.”

As the door closed on his future wife, Jethro’s chest swelled with satisfaction at having the business arranged so fast. He had not expected to find such a suitable marriage partner with so little fuss. It must have been Providence that had brought Miss Vincent’s advertisement to his notice.

She was just the sort of woman he needed to smooth his path into society, and he was blessed indeed that she had accepted his offer. Doubly blessed, as her circumstances meant a swift union was as beneficial to her as it was to him.

He allowed himself only a few moments to dwell on his forthcoming nuptials before springing into action. If he was to be ready for his bride, there was no time to waste.

Jethro summoned his housekeeper and asked her to prepare rooms for his wife.

Mrs Timms blinked twice, a dazed expression on her face, as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Your wife , sir?”

Jethro had not spared a thought for how others would react to his sudden decision to wed. Given his housekeeper’s reaction, perhaps he should have done. Not that it would have changed anything. He needed to marry, and his future bride could not afford to wait.

“Yes—my wife. Miss Vincent and I are to be married on Monday.”

“Very good, sir,” the middle-aged woman said, bobbing a curtsey before leaving the room in a somewhat bewildered state.

Jethro pursed his lips. If Mrs Timms was shocked, he assumed others would be too. Including his closest friend, Peter Crowley. No doubt he would have to endure a great deal of teasing from his newly appointed manager. Especially as the man had threatened to find him a wife, ever since his own marriage a few months earlier.

Never one to shirk a difficult task, Jethro strolled around the corner to his warehouse, determined to break the news to his friend without delay.

“You’re what?” Crowley exclaimed when he told him.

Jethro repeated himself, as if he was talking to a child. “I’m getting married. ”

Crowley slapped him on the back. “What a sly fellow you are to go and fall in love. I never would have guessed—”

Jethro stiffened. He should have known his friend would assume there was love involved. “It’s a business arrangement. I give her a home and status. She helps me in society. Nothing more.”

Crowley’s hand dropped away as quickly as his smile. “I see. And Miss Vincent accepts this?”

“She does.”

“Maybe she had no choice.”

A twinge of guilt assailed Jethro, but he dismissed it at once. He doubted Miss Vincent would have accepted him if her situation had not been so dire, but it was—and he had come to her rescue. It was an arrangement that suited them both, no matter what Crowley said.

“I don’t need your approval—it is what it is—but I want you to be a witness at my wedding. Monday morning. Be there.”

“Of course.”

Jethro turned on his heel and left the warehouse before Crowley could say anything more. He had the nasty feeling his friend hadn’t finished discussing his forthcoming marriage, but he had endured as much as he could take, and his patience was wearing thin.

Crowley had sown a seed of doubt in his mind, but Jethro refused to let it grow. If he and Miss Vincent were content with the deal they had made, that was all that mattered.

By the time he reached his solicitor’s office in St Thomas Street, Jethro’s normal self-assurance had reasserted itself.

He was not romantic like Crowley. If it hadn’t been for his urgent need to enter society, he would not have considered getting married now, if ever.

A lad took his hat and cane and led him down the corridor, past the clerks beavering away at their desks, and showed him into Mr Curtis’s room.

Other men might be seen by one of the solicitor’s employees, but Mr Curtis always dealt with him personally. Jethro straightened his jacket. He enjoyed being treated with the respect his business success had given him.

“Good afternoon, Mr Curtis. ”

“Good afternoon, Mr Hunt,” the man said, taking the proffered hand. “Please, sit down.”

Jethro sat, but hesitated a moment as he thought how best to begin. “I need you to draw up a marriage contract. Or do I? Is such a thing necessary when the lady is of age and there is no one to agree terms on her behalf?”

Mr Curtis raised his eyebrows. “You’re getting married? I didn’t expect you to take my suggestion seriously. Who is your bride?”

“Miss Vincent.”

“The rector’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

The solicitor nodded. “A sensible choice. A respectable lady of good standing, with a spotless reputation. I believe she will be a great credit to you, and you are fortunate indeed to have secured her affections. I think Mr Wade would approve.”

Jethro shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Though he tended to speak his mind, sometimes it was unpleasant when others did the same. He was not sure he wanted to be reminded of his motivation for getting married—or of the lack of affection in the arrangement.

Mr Curtis cleared his throat. “I apologise. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“It is no more than the truth. I can’t pretend I would have thought of marriage if it wasn’t for Mr Wade’s upcoming visit, and the necessity of impressing him. If I am to expand my business, I need his investment now more than ever. He clearly expects me to introduce him into Weymouth society when he visits in May—which, at this moment in time, I am ill-equipped to do.”

“I quite understand, which is why I suggested marrying a lady who was in that position might help. I confess, I didn’t expect you to act on my advice. Miss Vincent is exactly the sort of woman to ease your way into society. Not strictly a beauty, but she has poise. Unlike her sister. A flighty piece of work, that one. I’m relieved to hear you have not engaged yourself to her.”

“I don’t know the woman. It is Miss Vincent I’m marrying. Now, about this marriage settlement.”

“It is usual to draw up a document that provides for your wife should she outlive you. Some part of your estate that will be hers to keep her out of poverty, whilst the rest would go to your heir.”

“As you are well aware, I have no heir.”

“But as you are getting married, that’s likely to change. ”

Jethro’s chest constricted at the thought. Would it? He had not talked about such intimate matters with Miss Vincent. He had offered her a marriage of convenience, and she had accepted. Nothing had been said about children. It was a complication he had not considered.

“Do you have a will, Mr Hunt?”

“I believe you know the answer to that.”

“Then may I suggest you draw one up? The marriage settlement would care for your widow, in the event of your death, but a will would ensure your estate goes to whom you wish.”

“Yes. I would like you to prepare a will, leaving everything to my wife.”

“And the children?”

What children? Jethro wasn’t planning on having any. Why was it so hard to admit it?

He wriggled in his seat as the question hung in the air. Mr Curtis was clearly expecting him to say something.

“If God blesses us with children, then I’ll change my will accordingly.”

“As you wish. I’ll draw up the documents straightaway, ready for you to sign.”

Jethro thanked Mr Curtis and took his leave, puzzling over what he had said to the solicitor.

Why had he talked of children as if it was a possibility? He needed a wife to ease his path into society—nothing more.

It went beyond their agreement, and it was just as well. He had no room in his life for the responsibility of a family.