35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Jethro slammed the door of his study and dropped into the seat behind his desk. He stared at the papers spread out before him, unseeing, as he tried to bring his temper under control.

He had stormed out of the drawing room, but not fast enough to avoid hearing Alexander’s words.

What a heartless creature you’ve married, Cass. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to prevent it.

Was he as cold-blooded as the captain thought he was? No. He was only stating the truth. Cassandra’s brother would recover much more quickly if he would only embrace the facts.

But did she wish Alexander had prevented their marriage? Was she regretting allying herself to a man who her brother—and maybe Cassandra herself—believed was heartless?

His gaze shot up when the door was flung back, and the captain strode into his room. “How dare you upset my sister?”

Jethro glowered at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve made your wife cry.”

Cassandra was crying? Was it his fault?

Jethro felt a twinge of guilt, but his jealousy of Alexander outweighed it. Cassandra had sided with her brother over him.

“Are you sure it was me and not you who upset her? You’re the one wailing and pulling on everyone’s heartstrings. ”

“Then clearly you don’t have a heart, as you’ve shown not a jot of sympathy toward me.”

“Why should I? You’ve had a blessed escape from a union that could only cause you grief.”

“And I suppose you know all about that.”

There was something in the man’s tone that set all Jethro’s senses on edge. Had Cassandra told him their marriage was unhappy, or was Alexander passing judgement on his brother-in-law because he disliked him so much?

“Just what are you trying to say?”

“You think I’m blessed to have escaped a miserable marriage, whereas you’ve been caught.”

How dare Alexander talk to him in that way? “There is no comparison. I have no wish to escape my marriage. Cassandra is nothing like Mrs Frampton. She is everything I want in a wife.”

Jethro might as well not have spoken.

“Why did you do it? Why did you marry my sister?”

“I answered her advertisement and made an offer. She accepted. The details are none of your business.”

“I see what it is. You hope to use our family’s gentility to raise your position in society, just like Mr Frampton did in marrying Eugenia. Is that what gave you the idea? Seeing another merchant with a genteel wife?”

The captain was not far from the truth. Jethro had acknowledged as much to Cassandra before they wed. But why did his motives for marriage sound so sordid in her brother’s mouth?

The realisation was unsettling, and the discomfort fuelled his irritation, which simmered just below the surface. If Alexander kept pushing him, Jethro feared his anger would erupt.

“I had my reasons for getting married, and your sister was willing. She is of age. Why does it concern you?”

“Because you took advantage of her.”

Jethro leaped to his feet and leaned menacingly toward the captain. “How dare you talk to me like that? Get out!”

Alexander raised his palm in defence. “I mis-phrased that. I was not suggesting anything untoward. Cassandra has repeatedly assured me you’re a good man, and I believe her—up to a point. Whatever your reasons for marrying—and I don’t think they’re too dissimilar from what I said—you exploited my sister’s precarious situation to secure her hand in marriage.”

Jethro dropped back into his seat, as if he had been winded. Had he taken advantage of Cassandra’s vulnerability? If so, he was a cad, however much he wanted to dress it up with the noble motive of rescuing her from penury.

“Ah, yes. Maybe you are not the perfect gentleman you thought you were.”

Jethro rallied. “If I hadn’t stepped in, she would have been homeless. A situation that would not have arisen if you had made better provision for your sisters. To rely on a woman who was not your wife to provide for them was reckless. Why did you not set aside a fund they could draw on?”

The captain’s colour increased. “It was my intent, but—”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I thought my father would live longer. He was hale enough two years ago when I left.”

“A poor excuse.”

“Yes, but I’ve no other, and I shall always regret it.”

He winced at the bitterness in Alexander’s voice. Did the captain believe Jethro was such a terrible match for Cassandra? Too bad if he did. There was nothing he could do about it.

“You may regret I married your sister, but I suggest you find a way to cope with it. And I will have to make the best of an over emotional brother-in-law who weeps over a broken heart instead of rejoicing in his lucky escape.”

“Better to have too many emotions than too few. At least I have a heart to break, whilst my poor sister must spend the rest of her life married to a man without one.”

Alexander stormed out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

Jethro pondered his words. The captain thought he was heartless. Did Cassandra believe that too?

Six months ago, perhaps he would have agreed. He had always deemed it more prudent to act on facts, not feelings. Emotions fuddled your thinking and caused you to make irrational decisions. Such principles had not led him astray where business was concerned.

He had carried the same mentality into his marriage. It had been a rational transaction based on his needs and her situation. What was the problem with that?

Nothing .

Except something, somewhere, had altered along the line. Feelings had got involved. His feelings—although he hadn’t been aware of having any before meeting his wife.

Cassandra had changed all that.

Jethro didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he realised they were wrong about him. The gnawing ache deep inside him when he thought of his wife was evidence.

He did have a heart—and it belonged to Cassandra.

Where had those feelings come from? He’d done nothing to nurture them. If anything, he’d fought against them.

Why? Because loving with no hope of that love being returned would be unbearable. And if he allowed himself to dwell on his wife’s affection for Mr Barnes, that was exactly what he thought.

How could Cassandra’s heart ever be his if it had already been given?

It was a relief to give voice to his fears at last, though it caused his heart to ache in a way he hadn’t known was possible.

Dropping his head into his hands, Jethro closed his eyes and prayed. For patience with Alexander. For help to be a better husband.

To love his wife unconditionally, as God loved him—even if she never loved him back.