58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Jethro was not blind to the look of sheer panic on his wife’s face as he urged her to sit down again, but there were times when a man had to stand up for what was right, no matter what the personal cost.

On this occasion, he could not fault Alexander’s behaviour. There was no doubt his brother-in-law was hurting, but whether through lethargy or self-control, he did not rise to a single taunt.

Cassandra’s heightened colour suggested it was otherwise with her, and she wanted to escape. Jethro hated to go against her wishes, but he refused to let them retreat. He must not. Mrs Frampton should not be allowed to get away with such cruelty unchallenged.

He glanced across the room at Mr Wade. Was he listening? Jethro believed so, but that didn’t change his mind. Unless he was mistaken, the older man had been paying attention throughout, despite appearing to be lost in conversation with Eugenia’s husband.

Did Frampton not hear what his wife was saying? Or was that why he was talking to Mr Wade so assiduously—to cover over his wife’s malice?

A final glance at Cassandra almost undid Jethro’s resolve. The fear in her eyes was all too real. But he had himself well in hand. He could do this—without embarrassing either of them.

“I am intrigued, Mrs Frampton,” Jethro said. “Did Captain Vincent really want you to marry him before he sailed?”

“Yes, he did. Do you doubt it? ”

“Not at all—but I am intrigued. What persuaded you to postpone the wedding?

Mrs Frampton laughed. “A handsome captain may have swept me off my feet, but I was not so lost to reason that I would tie myself permanently to a penniless officer before he had made a name for himself.”

“Or brought home his battle trophies.”

Eugenia looked confused. “I’m not sure I follow you.”

“I am applauding the wisdom of not anticipating his prize money. When a man’s bank balance matters to you, it is better not to rely on remote possibilities. Such a tricky thing, prize money. One can never predict if it will be approved until it turns up. Isn’t that right, Alexander?”

His brother-in-law nodded. “Who knows how long it will take them to determine how much I’m due? Until then, I have as little as I went to sea with.”

Eugenia chuckled. “Now I understand you, Mr Hunt. Of course, there was always a good chance that Xander would make his fortune, as so many of our brave captains have done.”

“But how frustrating it would have been for you to have married him only to discover that his prize money was disappointingly little.”

“I’m glad you see my reasoning. Far better to know what you’re getting—”

“Mercantile profits are so much more reliable than prize money.”

“Indeed they are, Mr Hunt, as I’m sure my husband would agree.”

Jethro found it hard not to scoff out loud. The foolish woman thought she was flattering him by agreeing with his words when she was admitting her own avarice.

“And if all you are interested in is a man’s bank balance, it is far wiser to marry a man whose coffers are already full, instead of one whose purse might remain empty—however much you love him.”

The expression on Jethro’s face was as sincere as if he meant every word he said. Eugenia looked increasingly confused.

“But to return to Captain Vincent’s position, I am moved you see him as a charity case, but I can assure you there is no need for you to ask a favour of Mr Frampton. Fortunately, my purse is just as full of those reliable mercantile profits as your husband’s, and I can well provide for my wife’s brother without requiring him to work for it—though I daresay he will help me out with things from time to time, as soon as he is able .

“You always know you can trust a man if he rebels against becoming your pensioner. If he begrudges the fact that he can’t reject your aid when he’s poor and in need, you can be certain he’s worthy of it.”

A slow grin spread across Alexander’s face. He understood what Jethro was saying, even if Mrs Frampton didn’t.

“So, I’m curious. Why did you engage yourself to wed a man you had no intention of marrying, if I might be so bold as to ask?”

Eugenia stumbled over her words, colour flooding her cheeks.

“What are you talking about? Of course I intended to marry him. Aren’t you aware—we were in love? Or perhaps such sentiments are alien to you.”

Jethro laughed. “Not as unfamiliar to me as you imagine, but then, it takes a good woman to bring out the best in a man.”

He could see a faint blush colour Cassandra’s cheeks. It was an added bonus if this conversation succeeded in letting his wife know how he felt.

“So what made you fall out of love with him?” he asked Mrs Frampton.

“What do you mean?”

Jethro raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion. “Merely, that if you had been in love with the captain, I would have thought you would have waited for him.”

“I…er…well…I suppose I fell in love with someone else.”

Jethro shook his head in amazement. “How incredible. I didn’t know it was possible to fall in love with someone else when you had promised yourself to another. Assuming, of course, that you take your promises seriously. I can only assume your pledge meant little to you. I do hope, Mrs Frampton, you hold your wedding vows in higher regard.”

Eugenia turned an even deeper shade of red.

Mr Frampton strode across the room, a stern expression on his face, and secured his wife’s arm in his own. “Come, my dear. It is time we took our leave.”

Eugenia didn’t object, and offered a subdued goodnight to the company.

Mr Wade pulled on the bell rope and a few moments later, a man who did not appear to be a regular employee of the hotel answered his summons.

Assuming him to be one of Mr Wade’s servants, Jethro would have thought no more about it if he had not caught the fierce glance that Mr Frampton shot at the newcomer, which the man acknowledged by the slightest nod of his head .

Jethro’s business experience had taught him never to overlook the details, and he stared full into the servant’s face. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Jethro couldn’t place him. Wait…maybe…was he the man who Cassandra had pointed out to him—the one who had been spying on her?

A glance at his wife confirmed his suspicion. She was glaring at the man with undisguised loathing.

What was he doing here? Was he an employee of Mr Wade’s? Had his host had the gall to spy on Cassandra? How dare he?

“Show the Framptons out, Legg.”

The servant nodded at Mr Wade and ushered Mr and Mrs Frampton out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind them, Jethro turned on Mr Wade.

“Does that man work for you?”

A crease appeared on Mr Wade’s brow. “You know him? Has he been troubling you?”

“He’s been harassing my wife, sneaking around after her, and asking questions, so she didn’t feel safe. And you are responsible for him? That Frampton might employ a spy to fuel him with information to weigh against us, I could resent, but in some measure understand. But you? What possible justification have you got for upsetting my wife?”

“I wanted to know what manner of man you were, and what kind of woman you had married.”

The man’s cool admission did nothing to assuage Jethro’s growing irritation. “There are civilised ways of discovering such things, Mr Wade. I had assumed such underhand tactics were the work of my rival, not my investor.”

For the first time, the older man appeared discomposed. “Forgive me, Mrs Hunt. I am too used to extracting information by less conventional methods for me to change my habits now. Legg’s brief was to be unobtrusive—to fill me in before I arrived in Weymouth.”

Cassandra acknowledged his apology with a bow of her head, but said nothing. Huh! His wife was more generous than he was. It would take more than a few words of regret to reconcile him to Mr Wade’s clandestine behaviour.

“Why did you think Legg was in Frampton’s employ?” the older man asked him.

“Because we saw them together, which struck us as rather incriminating evidence. ”

Mr Wade’s mouth hardened. “I could see Frampton was discomposed when Legg came to show them out. I assumed he was wary, because my man had been less discreet than I directed. What you say puts a more sinister slant on his reaction. I won’t stand for disloyalty.”

Now, that was something Jethro could understand, as he felt the same way.

“I am not happy about this,” Mr Wade said, shaking his head, and talking as much to himself as to his guests. “Not happy at all. I will take him to task later. This is not the first time I’ve had my doubts about Legg, but he has proved so useful…”

The older man fell silent, raising his eyes to meet Jethro’s gaze, which had not wavered from his face.

The two men stared at each other for what felt like an age. Mr Wade’s expression gave away as little as Jethro’s own. His host was clearly as well-versed in the knack of keeping his thoughts close to his chest as he was himself.

However much Jethro might admire this skill in normal circumstances, just now, he wished Mr Wade was easier to read.

He had absolutely no idea what the man was going to do next.