48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

In the days that followed, Cassandra often found an excuse to visit Jethro in the warehouse. They were the moments that brightened her mornings, the breaks in the routine of running the household, making and receiving morning calls, and working on her embroidery.

Sometimes she took him one of Mr Oliver’s confections. On other occasions, she went to ask him a question that could have waited until dinnertime, but Jethro didn’t seem to mind.

Every afternoon, she sat in the drawing room, waiting for the chime of the grandfather clock that stood in the hall, announcing the imminent arrival of her husband.

Today was no exception. Jethro arrived home at a quarter to five and gave her a peck on the cheek, and they ascended the stairs together before entering their separate rooms.

Mary Ann had already laid out her evening gown—a lilac silk that Bridget Fisher had delivered just a few days earlier.

Her day dress discarded, Cassandra slipped her wrapper over her petticoats and sat down at her dressing table. Mary Ann let down her hair, but before she could start pinning it up again, there was a sharp knock at the door.

Martin entered bearing a silver salver with a note on it. “This just came express for you, madam. ”

An express? Who could it be from? Xander? It had to be. There was no one else.

Unless… Not dead. Please, God. Not dead.

A cold shiver of dread passed over her as she picked up the letter and looked at the wax imprint. Some of the fear dissipated as she recognised her brother’s seal. He could not write to her if he was dead.

After dismissing her maid, she broke open the seal and spread out the sheet before her.

My dearest Cassy

The Frenchies got me at last. We captured their vessel, but not without tremendous loss. Taverner’s dead, and I might as well be. They saved my leg, but I’m nought but a cripple now. I’ve lost my ship, Cassy. They took her away and sent me home on the Eclipse. I’m in Plymouth. In the Royal Naval Hospital. I don’t know what I’ll do when they release me. I’ve nowhere to go, and nothing to live on until my prize money comes in. How I wish God had taken me rather than Taverner. Better to die in battle than linger on as a wreck of a man.

Forgive me, sister. The darkness consumes me.

Your wretched brother,

Xander

Cassandra slumped down onto the edge of her bed as the tears poured down her face. Not dead. No. But injured so severely, he had been relieved of duty.

She thanked God he had spared her brother, but how miserable Xander sounded.

A lump formed in her throat as she realised what she must do. She needed to ask Jethro whether Xander could stay with them. Would he let him? Was it too much to expect, after the dreadful way her brother had behaved?

She had to try, for Xander’s sake—but she wished she did not have to, for her own .

Whatever Jethro decided, her brother’s return would damage her relationship with her husband. If he refused, she would resent him. But if he accepted, how would they survive? Would there be constant angst in their household, with the two men bickering with one another and her caught in the middle?

She needed to know which outcome she had to contend with, and fast.

Pulling the cord of her dressing gown more tightly around her, she knocked on the door that connected her chamber to Jethro’s, and waited.

It opened, and her husband stared at her, aghast. “Whatever is the matter, Cassandra?”

The sympathy in his voice was too much, and she burst into a fresh flood of tears.

With a hand at the small of her back, he guided her across the room and pulled her down to sit beside him on the edge of his bed. With a nod to his valet, they were left alone, and taking her hand in his, he asked her again what was wrong.

“It’s Xander,” she said, in between sobs.

“Oh, my dear. Is he… dead?”

She shook her head. “No, but injured. He’s in hospital in Plymouth. Jethro, I know I’ve no right to ask—and I appreciate the timing is poor with Mr Wade’s visit imminent—but I pray you’ll find it in your heart to forgive Xander’s past behaviour and let him stay here. You did say this was my home as well as yours and he’s got nowhere else to go, and I’m aware how unreasonable it is of me to ask it of you, but—”

“Yes.”

She stopped crying and stared up at her husband.

“Yes. He can come here. This is your home, Cassandra, and you are free to invite your brother here.”

“You must understand, he will have little to live on. I suppose he may receive a pension, but he is relying on his prize money to secure his future. Until then, he’ll be forced to depend on us.”

“Our home is open to him for as long as he needs it.”

“It is?”

He nodded, and there was such tenderness in his eyes, such sympathy, that Cassandra was overwhelmed with gratitude. What an admirable husband God had given her. She would not have to cope with this family tragedy alone. Jethro would look after them .

She rested her head on his broad chest, and when he brought his arm around her shoulders, warmth coursed through her being. She closed her eyes, not wanting the moment to end.

Because then she would have to face the fact that Xander’s arrival threatened to disrupt this new level of intimacy she was enjoying with her husband—an intimacy she hoped would deepen.

She reopened her eyes and met her husband’s gaze. There was more than a touch of sadness there. As if he, too, knew the risk they were taking. That there was a price to pay for opening their home to her brother again.

Cassandra prayed that the cost would not be too high. That her concern for Xander’s happiness would not jeopardise her own.