38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The following evening, when they met at the dinner table, Jethro resolved not to let Alexander provoke him—for Cassandra’s sake.

It was an uphill struggle. The captain launched into a discussion of Jethro’s affairs, quizzing him about his family background and connections, as if he was determined to prove his sister had married beneath her.

When his pointed comments failed to provoke a reaction, Alexander changed tack and asked him about his business instead, making it clear what he thought of a so-called gentleman who was engaged in trade.

Jethro endured his brother-in-law’s jibes, restraining the words that leaped to his mind in retaliation, glancing at his wife’s face to encourage him to stay calm every time he felt his patience running out.

“It must have been such a blessing when Cassandra accepted your hand in marriage,” Alexander said.

“It was indeed.”

“And how did you meet? At church, of course. I daresay you have known each other for ages.”

What was the man trying to prove? Alexander was well aware of the fact that they hardly knew each other when they wed, but Jethro refused to give his brother-in-law the satisfaction of admitting as much.

“We have worshipped together at St Mary’s for some years. ”

“Ah. Your attachment is of long standing. I’m surprised you didn’t court my sister whilst my father was still alive—or did you fear it wouldn’t be successful?”

Jethro inhaled deeply, trying to keep his temper under control. Yet another jibe about his status in society. This time, questioning if he would have obtained their father’s permission to wed Cassandra. That they would never know.

“You are under a misapprehension.” A wilful one at that. “Our attachment is recent.”

“I salute you. You must have been very much in love to pursue a lady in mourning. How on earth did you further your suit? Perhaps I should take note, for the next time I decide to propose marriage.”

Jethro’s defences were crumbling. He didn’t care what Alexander said about his humble background or his role as a merchant. He was a businessman, through and through, and proud to have risen to his current position through his own hard work.

But when the captain made such unhelpful comments about his marriage, his attack got under his guard. Each barb pricked at his conscience until the guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

“Our courtship was brief,” Jethro said. Non-existent, more like.

Alexander leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “Ah well, you know what they say: marry in haste and repent at leisure—but then, I am sure you will have no cause to repent.”

That barb hit its mark. Again. He wouldn’t let Jethro forget. He believed his sister regretted her hasty nuptials, and he blamed Jethro for presuming upon her precarious situation to secure an advantageous marriage for himself.

And no matter how Jethro dressed it up with excuses, he knew it was true, and that realisation provoked him to breaking point, prompting him to retaliate in kind.

“How fortunate you did not make that mistake. You did not marry in haste—in fact, you did not marry at all. But if you had, I guarantee you would have spent the rest of your life repenting of the unwisdom of your choice.”

Alexander sneered. “Oh yes. Kick me while I’m down. I will soon be back at sea, serving my country. I can walk away from your cold-heartedness.”

His words hit their mark again. Cassandra could not walk away from her marriage. But did she want to ?

Jethro glanced at his wife to gauge her reaction to their conversation, and his heart sank. She was biting her bottom lip, her expression so full of disappointment that it made him cringe.

Unable to bear the reproach in her eyes, he uttered a feeble excuse to leave them, and retreated to his study.

Jethro needed to avoid Alexander as much as possible for the rest of his stay. It was the only way he could prevent further conflict, which risked upsetting his wife even more.

He would apologise to her for his harsh words to her brother just as soon as the opportunity arose.

But that chance did not come. The captain commandeered his sister’s company from morning till night, and by staying away from him, Jethro was deprived of seeing Cassandra as well. It was hard not to begrudge the hold Alexander had over her affections.

He missed her presence and her conversation more than he had supposed possible for a man who not so many months ago had regularly chosen to spend his evenings in solitude.

Every night, Jethro stared at the door that connected his chamber to his wife’s. All he wanted was to talk to her. To say he was sorry—to reassure her he would try to make her happy—but he could not find the courage to knock.

When Sunday came round again, Jethro went down early for breakfast, hoping to steal enough time with his wife to apologise—without an audience. It was a risk. If Alexander joined him before she did, there was bound to be a confrontation.

The door opened just before ten o’clock, and Jethro’s lips relaxed into a smile as he saw it was, as he had hoped, Cassandra, and not her brother, entering the breakfast parlour. He put down his newspaper and rose to meet her.

Jethro had paid scant attention to fashion before his marriage, but he always noticed what Cassandra was wearing. Today, she was dressed with her usual elegance in a white morning gown, with long sleeves and a high neckline, and a profusion of lace on her head that passed for a cap.

“Good morning,” he said, bestowing his now customary peck on her cheek. That was one thing he could thank Alexander for—poking at his lack of affection toward his wife, prompting him to start greeting Cassandra with a kiss.

“You are looking very fine today. I used to think it a pity that married women took to wearing caps, but I have to admit they suit you.”

“Thank you, Jethro. A good morning to you, too.”

She blushed pink, but whether from her pleasure at the compliment or the kiss he had dared to give her when there wasn’t an audience to impress, he couldn’t tell. Either way, he liked it. The colour in her cheeks was most becoming.

He would not let his eyes stray to her mouth. It was enough, for now, that she allowed him this sign of intimacy—and even more so, because her brother was not watching.

The thought of her lips distracted him, and it was a few moments before he recalled his need to get his apology out while they were still alone. “I am sor—”

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, Cassy,” said Alexander, strolling into the breakfast parlour as if it was his own.

He smacked a kiss on his sister’s cheek and urged her to sit before ordering Jethro’s servant to bring toast.

Jethro bit back his irritation. He must not give Cassandra more reason to be disappointed with him.

“Do you plan to attend the service at St Mary’s this morning?” she asked her brother.

The captain said nothing. His eyes dipped as he sipped his coffee and put down his cup. He met Cassandra’s gaze, a brow raised.

“Aren’t you ready to face Eugenia again yet?

Alexander snorted. “Will I ever be ready?”

“I know it’s hard—”

He cast Jethro a scornful glance. “I’m glad someone realises that.”

Cassandra pursed her lips and frowned. “Will you come with me to church or not?”

Jethro could hear the exasperation in her tone, and despite being annoyed with Alexander for upsetting her, he was somewhat appeased that Cassandra’s frustration was not with him alone.

It seemed unlikely her brother would respond as she wanted, and though Jethro knew she had not directed the question at him, he hurried to answer in the affirmative, eager to secure his wife’s company for himself.

Unfortunately, at the same moment, Alexander also said yes .

Bother the man. Was the captain determined to come between him and his wife?

Jethro could feel the hold on his temper weakening.

He’d better leave Cassandra to her brother’s care, rather than risk another clash.

He was about to excuse himself, to walk to St Mary’s ahead of the others, when he noticed Alexander staring down his nose at him, waiting for him to back down.

The man’s arrogant expectation galled Jethro, and putting aside his better judgement, he said nothing.

“If it is important to you, Cassy, I’ll come.” He cast a casual glance in Jethro’s direction. “Don’t allow us to keep you from your devotions. You need not delay your departure on our account. I can take care of my sister.”

Jethro refused to let Alexander intimidate him. “Thank you, but it is no inconvenience to me. Accompanying my wife to church is not a pleasure I wish to forego.”

Cassandra shot him a weak smile, which left Jethro uncertain what she thought of his sudden show of chivalry. Was she pleased, or did she question his motives?

She turned her attention back to her brother. “Perhaps after the service you would like to visit father’s gravestone.”

“Given your dire circumstances, I’m surprised there’s a headstone to view. How did you afford that? Or did he pay for it?” Alexander asked, casting a disdainful look in Jethro’s direction.

“It would have been an honour to have done so,” Jethro said, willing himself to stay calm, “but as Mr Vincent was buried some months before we married, the question never arose.”

“Then who paid for it? Not the old curate, surely?”

“Old? How can you call Mr Barnes old when he’s only two years your senior?”

Jethro fought to keep the scowl off his face. Alexander had spoken in a derogatory tone, and it was natural that Cassandra should leap to the curate’s defence. It meant nothing.

“There were many who wanted to honour our father’s memory, as the past rector of St Mary’s,” she said. “A collection was made which covered the headstone and engraving.”

“Arranged by your Mr Barnes. ”

Jethro’s stomach clenched as Cassandra’s cheeks turned red. Did Alexander believe an attachment existed between his sister and the curate? His wife’s embarrassment seemed to confirm it.

She shot her brother such a fierce look that he roared with laughter.

When he had finished guffawing, she spoke again. “He is not my Mr Barnes, and I would thank you to remember that.”

Jethro knew the vehemence of her words should reassure him, but it did not. If the accusation was without foundation, she would have brushed it away in a flash.

As soon as she left the room to fetch her bonnet, Alexander turned on him.

“I see what it is. You fear I’ll be drawn into another fracas with Eugenia, but I assure you, I have myself well in hand this time. I do not require a minder.”

“And I do not need any help to look after my wife. Please do not upset her again by making inappropriate comments about the curate. It is not kind.”

“Huh! You’re not jealous of old Barnesy, are you? Does it irk you she would have accepted him rather than you if he’d been half as rich?”

Jethro swallowed the bile that rose into his throat and steadied himself. Of course it irked him. It was hard enough to accept that his wife had harboured an affection for another man before her marriage.

To think it might be ongoing was unbearable.