50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

The day arrived at last. After putting the date off twice, Mr Wade was finally coming to visit.

Cassandra had planned to hold a grand dinner party, to introduce him to Weymouth society, but she’d been forced to change her plans. At Mr Wade’s request, there were to be no other guests. Just them. It was a daunting prospect. They would both be on show.

Would she make the right impression on him? Would Jethro?

Her breath hitched at the thought of her husband. Ever since the day he’d agreed Xander could live with them, he had seemed to withdraw. It was as if that one decision had changed everything between them, and her brother was yet to arrive.

Cassandra knew it was not his fault, but she could not help wishing that Xander had not been injured. And that he wasn’t coming home to disrupt their lives.

He was the silent visitor even before he returned, and soon he would be here.

It was not surprising her nerves were on edge. No time with Jethro. The long-awaited dinner party with his investor. And Xander arriving the next day, in what shape Cassandra didn’t care to surmise.

She felt more nervous than when she’d made her debut in Bath. She knew how important this meeting was to her husband, and her stomach was tied in knots, dreading something going wrong. Afraid of letting him down.

That afternoon, Jethro came home early from the warehouse, and changed into a fashionable dark blue coat of superfine and buff-coloured pantaloons that had lately arrived from his tailor. She had instructed his valet to tie his neckcloth in the Oriental fashion that Mr Barnes sometimes adopted, to give her husband a more stylish air.

Cassandra’s dress was white silk trimmed with silver, made in the Grecian style, so Bridget had informed her. Over this, she wore a purple satin tunic, with silver buttons, and her hair was confined in a caul of silver net. The amethyst necklace Jethro had given her hung around her neck. She had never been so elegantly dressed in her life.

She hoped Mr Wade approved of her appearance, but more importantly, she desired her husband’s praise.

“You look lovely, Cassandra,” Jethro said as she joined him in the drawing room, but as he swiftly turned away, she did not feel the words were worth saying, and she had to bite back her disappointment.

The door opened, and the butler announced Mr Wade.

The gentleman was of middling height, with sparse grey hair on the top of his head, thick side whiskers, and a strong, square chin. There was nothing about him to attract—until he spoke, and from that moment, Cassandra supposed he must draw the attention of anyone within his reach.

“Mr Hunt,” he said, extending his arm toward Jethro, and shaking his hand. “How wonderful to meet you, after all these years.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Jethro replied. “Cassandra, this is Mr Wade, who has invested in my business since—well, since it began. Mr Wade, may I present my wife?”

Cassandra dipped into a curtsey and received a deep bow in return. The gentleman must be intent on making a good impression on her, to give her such a token of respect.

As he recovered from his bow, their gazes met, and a gasp caught in her throat. Those dark grey eyes of his were unusual, and she’d seen them before—she was almost certain. They reminded her of the face in the miniature she’d found in the locked drawer of the writing desk.

If the portrait was of Mr Wade, it meant Jethro’s mother had known him well, and that the man’s investment in her husband’s business was not based on merit alone, as he’d always believed.

Oh dear. What a blow to Jethro’s pride .

She glanced toward her husband, looking for any sign that he had recognised Mr Wade as the man in the miniature. There was none.

It was no great surprise. Jethro had barely looked at the picture when she’d given it to him, shutting it away with the letters, refusing to pry into his mother’s affairs.

Cassandra resolved not to mention her suspicion. Perhaps she was mistaken in thinking Mr Wade was the man in the portrait, and she would be stirring up trouble for no reason.

“I am charmed to make your acquaintance, Mrs Hunt. How long have you been married?”

“A little short of six months.”

“Ah, then you are but newly wed—and still deep in love?”

Cassandra heard the questioning note in his voice. If he had not accompanied his words with such a broad smile, she would have deemed them impertinent.

“We are as much in love as we were when we married,” she said smoothly.

“Excellent. Excellent. I am pleased to hear it. It is good for a man to love his wife and be loved in return.”

Was that a wistful note she heard in his voice? Was Mr Wade’s marriage unhappy? It was a question she could not ask, but she would have liked to know the answer.

Mr Wade offered her his arm as they followed Jethro across the corridor to the dining room and took her to her place at the foot of the table before sitting down beside her.

“I hear you want to expand into shipping, Hunt,” Mr Wade said once the soup had been laid before them.

“I do,” said Jethro. “I’ve signed a deal on two ships that currently operate for a merchant based on Guernsey.”

“Oho. No messing about with you. I approve of that. A man who knows his own mind, just like me. Is the contract secure?”

“I’ve paid the deposit, but the ships won’t be mine until the rest of the funds have been transferred.”

Mr Wade nodded and then turned to Cassandra. “I must commend you on this excellent soup, Mrs Hunt. Your own recipe?”

“One of my mother’s.”

“A family recipe. How special. What part of the country was she from?”

“My grandfather’s estate was in Devon.”

“And your own father? ”

This was feeling like an inquisition. “He was the youngest son of a Wiltshire family and became a clergyman. He was rector of St Mary’s Church for twenty years before he died last December.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. It is hard to lose someone we love—and you loved him, did you not?”

“I did. What child does not love their parent?”

Mr Wade frowned, as if the thought did not sit well with him. Had he argued with his own father? Failed to show him the affection that was his due?

Turning back to Jethro, Mr Wade praised how he had grown the reputation of his business and then moved on to discuss the current size of his warehouse and whether he needed to increase its capacity in the near future.

“I would have to secure a larger share of the market if I wished to expand further. Having my own ships should improve the percentage profit on the goods I sell, and give me more control over their delivery, but I have no great expectation of stealing trade from Mr Frampton without a battle. You know, I think, of my rival?”

Cassandra took a sharp intake of breath. That was a brave tactic of her husband, to face Mr Wade down, full on.

The older man nodded. “I do indeed. By all I have seen so far, his business is built on a sound foundation. I’d like to get the two of you together over dinner. Where would you suggest? The Crown Inn or the King’s Head? Or is there somewhere more prestigious?”

She glimpsed at her husband, whose eyebrows were furrowed in a frown. The sternness on his face did not augur well. There was no telling what he would say if his irritation got the better of him, and if he offended Mr Wade, where would they be?

Cassandra answered Mr Wade’s question before Jethro could be tempted to make an inappropriate remark. “That would be the Royal Hotel. Next door to the King’s house—Gloucester Lodge—though he has not visited Weymouth since ’05.”

“The Royal Hotel, eh? I shall have to secure rooms there on my return.”

“It’s right on the sea front, with picturesque views out across the bay,” she said.

“Splendid. When I come back from Bristol, I will repay your hospitality with a dinner to make your mouth water.” He chortled to himself. “Yes, yes. And I’ll invite Frampton’s wife to join us as well. Won’t that be a merry party? ”

Cassandra had to make an immense effort to prevent herself from gaping. Did this gentleman know what he was suggesting?

Then she saw the spark in his eye. Yes, he did. Mr Wade knew exactly what he was planning, and if she was reading him right, he expected fireworks.

No one spoke while the table was cleared, and the next course spread before them. Whilst their guest carved some duck for her, she hurried to dissuade him from the proposed meal.

“It is kind of you to invite me, Mr Wade, but I fear I must decline. You gentlemen will do very well without us ladies getting in the way.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “With no ladies present, we will be as dull as ditch water. I always include both sexes in my gatherings. Some of the most ingenious ideas spring from the minds of women.”

Cassandra appreciated Mr Wade’s praise for her sex, but did not let the compliment distract her from her purpose. “I hate to disappoint you, but we are expecting my brother tomorrow. He is a captain in the Royal Navy and has suffered terrible injuries. He is going to require all my attention for the foreseeable future.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs Hunt. You have my condolences. But do not let that deter you. A man facing disappointment should not be left to wallow in his own misery. It’s essential he gets good company, and plenty of it, to see him through this change in his circumstances. I speak from experience. Isolation only bears a man down. Company is what he needs. You must bring him with you.”

Cassandra shot Jethro a pleading look. It would be heartless to thrust Xander into close contact with the woman he once hoped to marry whilst still adjusting to his injuries.

“I do not think—” her husband said.

“No, no. I insist. It will do him good.”

They had failed to dissuade him, and as neither she nor Jethro wished to provoke their visitor, they let the subject drop.

Cassandra rose to leave the two men to their port, hoping that her husband could stomach a single glass, for appearances’ sake.

She returned to the drawing room and picked up her embroidery, thrusting her needle in and out of the frame to release her feelings.

Bother the man. She would not have mentioned her brother if she had foreseen this outcome. Xander’s presence would threaten everything they had worked for .

Why did Mr Wade have to insist they all meet the Framptons? The last time Xander had encountered Eugenia, it had not gone well. The scene outside the church was too painful to recall.

If only there was a way to prevent him from attending that dinner, maybe all was not lost. She could cope with the dreadful woman, but it was not fair to put her brother through that again. Not when he had lost so much.

The prospect of Xander’s return was already making her husband distant, but now it jeopardised Mr Wade’s investment in his business as well.

Cassandra could not bear the possibility that she might let Jethro down. This was what he had married her for—to smooth over social situations like this.

If she failed him now, she feared he might regret marrying her.

And the thought hurt.