25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The following day, Jethro escaped to the warehouse earlier than usual. He wanted to avoid Cassandra until he knew how to put things right. If that was even possible.

This time, he had no idea what he’d done wrong. One minute, she seemed to revel in his gift. The next, she’d replaced her mask of indifference and become his dutiful, but unemotional, wife once more.

The closer it came to dinnertime, the more agitated he became. How could he repair the damage he had unwittingly caused last night when he didn’t even know what had made Cassandra retreat again?

Crowley knocked on his open door. “How did the apology go?”

Jethro grimaced.

“Oh dear. That well. The course of true love never did run smooth.”

“I’ve upset Cassandra—”

“Again.”

“Yes, again, and I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

As they locked up the warehouse, Jethro relayed his wife’s reaction to the gift he’d bought.

“And you said nothing to provoke such a response?”

“Not that I know of. I just told her how impressed Mr Wade would be to see her like that, with the amethysts around her neck. I thought how pretty she’d look and—”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Tell her what?”

“That she looked pretty.”

“No.” He hadn’t dared to share that thought with his wife. Dwelling on her admirable behaviour had been safer than complimenting her appearance. “I told her I was proud of her.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Proud? What a loving endearment!”

“I’ve heard you say it of Meg a dozen times—”

“That’s true, but I’ve told her she’s beautiful, and that I love her, much more often. Have you spoken those words to her as well?”

Jethro couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes. Crowley was being deliberatively provocative. Talking about love when he knew his marriage to Cassandra was one of convenience. Yet Jethro was reluctant to admit he hadn’t said those things to her.

He was relieved when Crowley’s wife came hurrying around the corner, saving him from replying.

A pang of jealousy assailed him as he watched Meg place a kiss on Crowley’s lips, slipping her arm through his, and gazing up at him as if he was the most important person in her world. Which, of course, he was.

“Hunt’s given his wife a necklace, but she doesn’t seem that pleased with it. What do you think, Meg?”

“What kind of necklace?”

“Amethysts and diamonds.”

Meg’s mouth dropped open. “And she didn’t like it? I find that hard to believe. It must be why she thinks you gave it to her.”

Heat crept up Jethro’s neck. He was not about to admit to Crowley’s wife that it was to say sorry, but was she right? Was Cassandra rejecting his apology?

“How would you react to such a gift?” Jethro asked her, desperate to turn the attention away from himself.

“I should probably scold Peter, because I knew we couldn’t afford it, and make him take it back to the shop.”

Crowley laughed. “I must try that. I’d get all the credit for buying something expensive, without having to spend the money.”

Meg batted his arm with her free hand. “Don’t you dare. You know it’s not how much you spend, but the thought you put into the present.”

Her words caught Jethro’s attention. A thoughtful gift. Yes, he’d thought about the necklace, but had she believed he was trying to buy her forgiveness by bestowing such an expensive present on her ?

He shuddered at the notion. Maybe he needed to give her something else. Something more meaningful. But what?

“What is the best thing your husband has ever given you?” he asked Meg.

She chewed on her bottom lip. “The best thing? I’m rather fond of his kisses,” she said, and was immediately rewarded by a peck on the cheek. “And my favourite gift is this wedding band on my finger, but after that, I reckon it is his own copy of Cowper’s poems.”

“What? Those well-used volumes he always had about him?”

Meg nodded. “That’s why I love them so dearly. Because I know how much they mean to him, and I’m touched that he would trust them to my care.”

Jethro murmured something appropriate and took his leave of them before entering his house. Her words had struck a chord inside him. He mulled on them throughout another dinner accompanied by polite nothings and continued to consider what thoughtful gift he could give his wife when he retired to his study.

His eyes lighted on his mother’s desk, and his heart beat a little faster. Cassandra had once expressed an interest in it, but he had dismissed it out of hand. It was the only item which had belonged to his mother that he’d kept for himself. The rest of her furniture had already been given over to his wife’s use.

Could he really part with it? It would be a sacrifice, not to have it here, in his study, as a visual reminder of his beloved mama.

But that was all it was. Jethro never used it. He couldn’t even get into the drawer as, somehow, in the confusion after his mother’s death, he had mislaid the key. It was a nuisance, but he refused to break it open and spoil the marquetry. He trusted Cassandra to understand that.

Jethro had the desk moved to the drawing room right away. He would still be able to see it, but he’d be sharing something that was important to him with his wife.

Cassandra knew how much his mother’s bureau meant to him. He hoped it would make a better impression on her than the necklace.