21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Cassandra glanced at Jethro, who sat beside her in the carriage, and glowed with pleasure. The evening had gone much better than she could have imagined.

“When I came back into the drawing room, your face was a picture,” Jethro said. “It wasn’t until the colour returned to your cheeks when I said yes that it dawned on me you feared I couldn’t dance.”

“How was I to guess you were so proficient? I thought you never attended social events.”

“Very few, but why did that make you think I couldn’t dance? And you weren’t alone. Mrs Frampton must have believed the same.”

“I’m sorry. It shows how little I know about you. I wasn’t sure whether your schooling included such things.”

“Of course it did. We were all taught to dance, so we could enter society.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No. My education was comprehensive, but nothing could change the fact my mother came from humble beginnings.”

“And your father?”

Jethro shrugged. “I never knew him. He must have had some means, as Mother owned the house I grew up in, and there was sufficient money to provide for my education, but the day I left the London finishing school, which equipped me for a life in commerce, I was on my own. If it were not for Mr Wade spotting my potential whilst I was there, I would have had no capital to start my own business. It would have taken years to lay aside enough to buy a warehouse. I might have lived out my days working for Frampton instead.”

“I can see why you are so keen to impress Mr Wade. You owe him a lot.”

Jethro’s brow puckered, and Cassandra realised she had said the wrong thing.

“He provided the capital. That is all. It is my hard work that built the firm up into what it is today. My hard work and God’s blessing. I could have become independent of Mr Wade by now if I had wanted, but he was keen to keep investing, and as I was eager to continue growing my business, the partnership has worked well.”

He fell silent, but the tightness about his mouth implied there was more he could have said.

Cassandra would have liked to know what was bothering him, but she dared not push him to tell her. Their alliance was a fragile thing as yet.

Jethro helped her alight from the carriage and they entered the house.

It was late, but every fibre of her being was alert as they ascended the stairs together. They paused outside her chamber door.

“Your behaviour tonight was admirable, Cassandra. I am proud to call you my wife.”

It was not, perhaps, the fondest endearment, but it was more than she had hoped for, and she responded with praise of her own.

“You were wonderful, putting Eugenia in her place without giving her reason to take offence. She won’t dare cross us again after what you said tonight.”

“I was only following your lead. I am not used to the niceties of mixed company, and I am grateful to you for smoothing over my gaucheness.”

The unexpected tribute warmed her heart.

“That is why you married me, isn’t it? To help you enter society. I trust I am fulfilling my role as well as you are fulfilling yours. I am truly thankful for what you did for me tonight.”

For the first time, she felt a bond with her husband. It was not much, but it was a start, and it stirred something within her. A hope that one day, they might grow closer.

Overwhelmed by gratitude and encouraged by this new sense of togetherness, she took a step forward and hugged him.

The reaction was not what she’d hoped for.

His body remained rigid, unyielding, though hers was pressed against it, and his arms clung to his sides, not wavering from their position.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she stepped back and stared at her husband.

The tenderness she thought she’d seen in his eyes just a few moments before had gone. His face was a mask, hiding whatever emotion lay beneath the surface.

Cassandra bid him a hasty goodnight and fled to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

Dropping onto her bed, she rested her head in her hands as she came to terms with the painful truth. Her husband had not welcomed her embrace. He did not want it. He did not want her.

What had happened to the connection they’d formed that evening? Was it so fragile that it could disappear in a moment? Did it mean nothing to him?

She had reached out to him—and he had rejected her.

If he couldn’t even accept a hug of gratitude, such as she might give her brother, her hopes of one day having a family were as good as dead. Why had she promised to love this man? It was too hard. And to what purpose? Her husband didn’t want her love anyway.

To Jethro, their marriage would always be just a business arrangement.

It had been foolish of her to hope it might grow into something more. She would not make the same mistake again.