30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Cassandra entered Mrs Fisher’s dressmaking shop and was relieved to find the owner inside and alone. The past few weeks had been most frustrating, and she was desperately in need of counsel.

Bridget poured the tea and passed a cup to her friend. “How are you, Cassandra? I heard your husband was unwell. Is he quite recovered?”

“He is—but I almost wish he wasn’t.”

Bridget gave her a searching look. “I think you’d better explain.”

Cassandra was not sure she could. “I don’t understand the man I’ve married. Every time I feel we’re drawing closer to each other, he pushes me away. We were getting along just fine while he was ill. I nursed him myself, and kept him company as he regained his strength. The thought of being left alone again was terrifying, and I was desperate for him to recover. Yet the moment he was out of bed and back to work, everything returned to the way it was before.”

“Which was?”

“As though our marriage was nothing more than a business arrangement to him.”

“Isn’t that what you agreed?”

“Yes, but he has so little time for me. I assumed our marriage would include…that we might…that there was the possibility of having children. I was wrong.”

The enormity of what she had confessed sent heat coursing into her cheeks. She balled her fists in her lap, unable to meet Bridget’s eyes. “I know I’m no beauty, but am I so hideous that my husband doesn’t want to come near me?”

Bridget reached out a hand and squeezed hers. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

It was easy for her to say, but what else could Cassandra think? She’d kissed Jethro’s brow on that last evening they’d spent together, and he’d been avoiding her as much as possible ever since.

“Perhaps there is another explanation,” said Bridget. “You made a marriage of convenience, but if you didn’t discuss such things beforehand, he might suppose he would be surpassing the limits of your agreement to demand his marital rights. Why don’t you talk to him about your desire for a family? You trusted him enough to marry him. Can’t you trust him enough to tell him how you feel?”

Could Bridget be right? And if so, could she have such a conversation with Jethro? It would be dreadfully awkward, but it was unfair to blame him for the lack of intimacy in their marriage if she didn’t share her hopes. If it prompted a change in their relationship, it would be worth the embarrassment it was bound to cause them both.

Bridget rose from the sofa. “I believe a new evening dress is in order to encourage your husband to look at you as more than a wife of convenience. One that leaves your mourning behind. These dull colours don’t suit your complexion. Let me see…”

Before Cassandra could object, her friend disappeared through the doorway at the back of the shop. She returned a few minutes later with a young woman, who was carrying swathes of material.

Cassandra recognised her former lady’s maid at once. “I’m pleased Mrs Fisher could give you a position, Sally.”

The girl bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, indeed, madam.”

Sally held up the fabric under Cassandra’s chin as her mistress directed.

“You sent me a real helper,” said Bridget. “Sally is proving an able apprentice. Her skill in styling your hair has translated well into dressmaking.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Cassandra. “Everyone deserves a second chance, and I’m sure Sally has learned her lesson.”

The young woman lifted her chin in the air. “Indeed I have, madam. Only yesterday, a man was here asking about Mrs Hunt and whether people thought—”

She broke off, colouring.

Cassandra tensed. “Go on.”

“Whether they thought Mr Hunt had married you in a rush. He wanted to know if I’d seen you with any other men—before or after your marriage.”

Cassandra took a sharp intake of breath. “And what did you tell him?”

“That’s what I was trying to say, madam. I have learned my lesson, and I told him nothing. Nothing at all. I’m sorry about what happened before. It was wrong of me to jump to conclusions and say what I said, and I won’t let you down again. You’ve both been good to me. Mr Hunt ensured I was paid the full quarter, and you sent me here, and now I’m doing something I enjoy a lot better. Mrs Fisher says if I work hard, I’ve got real prospects, and I’m not going to throw that away.”

“What was the man like?” Cassandra asked.

Sally shrugged. “Not a charmer, that’s for sure. His hair was long and a bit wild and he was wearing a scruffy green jacket. I thought he’d come to beg, and you could’ve knocked me down with a feather when he started asking questions. I told him to stop trying to stir up rumours about his betters and sent him about his business.”

Cassandra’s heart sank. It must be the same man who had pestered Julia. The same man who had been watching her since her wedding day.

As much as she wanted to dismiss the possibility, it seemed as if Jethro was spying on her. Who else would be interested in learning about her dealings with other men?

It was most disturbing and made her want to hide her innermost thoughts away. She no longer felt inclined to share her desire for a family with Jethro. It would be safer to keep her feelings to herself.