6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jethro’s shoulders relaxed as Miss Vincent took her place beside him at the front of the church.

When the appointed time for the ceremony had arrived, and his bride had not, he had feared she’d changed her mind.

“Are you ready, Miss Vincent?” the curate asked, his voice laced with concern as he held Cassandra’s gaze.

Jethro bit back his irritation. The man was supposed to be marrying them, not making eyes at his bride or questioning her decision to wed. Was Mr Barnes hoping she would cry off?

Cassandra gave a decided nod. “Quite ready. Thank you.”

The service stirred Jethro’s emotions more than he cared to admit. It was humbling to listen to the lady at his side speak her responses without a tremor, as she promised to love, cherish and obey him—a man she barely knew.

As he slipped his ring onto his wife’s finger, the weight of the responsibility he was taking on threatened to overwhelm him. Could he love and cherish Cassandra as he had vowed to do? Yes. With God’s help, he would.

Once the ceremony was over, Mr Barnes ushered them into the vestry. While he wrote the details in the marriage register, Cassandra drew forward her companion to stand before Jethro.

“My stepsister, Julia. ”

Jethro bowed and muttered something appropriate, but she met his bow with only the briefest of curtseys, and what looked like a sneer. His hackles rose. Surprise he had expected, but not disdain. In worldly terms, it was a good match. What right had Julia to disapprove of her sister’s choice?

It was not a promising start, but Jethro would prove her wrong. He would show her what a trustworthy husband he could be. He would take care of Cassandra. His wife would have no cause to rue this day’s work if he could prevent it.

Mr Barnes invited them to sign their names in the register, and Peter Crowley and Cassandra’s sister added theirs as witnesses.

There. It was done. In the eyes of God and the law, Cassandra and he were now man and wife.

Outside the church, Julia bid her sister a hasty farewell and went off in the opposite direction to where he lived. No—where they lived.

He offered Cassandra his arm, and she laid her hand upon it, so lightly he was barely conscious of her touch. Together, they walked down to the harbour and along the water’s edge.

“That is my warehouse,” he said, failing to keep the pride out of his voice as they passed the mainstay of his business.

“It is a fine building.”

“It is. And I mean to build a finer. I wish to expand my operations. My dream is to become the foremost agent in Weymouth.”

“That is an admirable ambition.”

Jethro wondered whether she meant it.

They turned the corner into Devonshire Buildings and climbed the steps to the front door of his house, which was opened by a footman before they reached it. Jethro was surprised to find his entire household waiting for them in the hall.

“May I offer you congratulations, sir?” his housekeeper said.

“Thank you. This is your new mistress—Mrs Hunt.”

Cassandra bestowed a smile on each of his servants and exchanged a few words with the most senior. She seemed to know who the most important members of his staff were without him even saying.

“Is breakfast ready, Mrs Timms?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Jethro led the way to the dining room and pulled out a chair for Cassandra.

“Please, be seated.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you’re not disappointed we have not had a formal wedding breakfast.”

“Not at all. It wouldn’t have been appropriate, as I’m still in mourning for my father, and apart from Julia, I have no friends or family who would expect it of me.”

“Please forgive me, I should have asked your sister to join us.”

Cassandra’s colour deepened. “Julia was in a hurry to return to her duties at the school.”

Huh! His wife was being diplomatic. It would be nearer to the truth to say her sister was in a hurry to get away from him, but he did not push the point.

Once they had eaten, they retired to the drawing room together. Alone. What were they supposed to do now? He had never entertained a female apart from his mother and he felt his skills in this area were decidedly lacking.

“What would you like me to call you?” Cassandra asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“How would you like me to address you? Do you wish me to call you Mr Hunt or would you prefer to be on a first-name basis?”

Jethro had to confess the thought had not crossed his mind. What did married couples usually do? He didn’t know.

“What is your preference?”

Cassandra tilted her head to one side as she returned his gaze. “I should like to call you Jethro, if that is acceptable, though I will, of course, refer to you as Mr Hunt when the occasion merits it.”

“Then I shall call you Cassandra.”

She nodded. “And now, perhaps you would be so good as to explain to me in more detail what you require of me?”

Jethro felt the heat rising under his collar. Was this when they were supposed to talk about sleeping arrangements?

“We made a business deal, Mr…Jethro. You have provided me with a roof over my head and the respectability of being married to an upright man. What is it you want from me? How may I best fulfil my side of the bargain?”

“I admire your straight talking. I mentioned, I believe, my wish to wed a gentlewoman.”

She nodded again.

“I am a proud man. It can be the very worst of sins, but I believe it is right to take pride in what you have achieved. Be under no illusions. I started with nothing. I was brought up by my mother, and though there was provision for my education in what came from my father, that was all. I was fortunate to catch the eye of a London banker—a Mr Wade. You may have heard of him. He invested in my business and from a humble start, it is what it is today. To expand my firm, I require further capital—capital I need Mr Wade to supply.”

“Is there any reason to suppose he will not?”

“I hope not. Though he has provided the finance for my business for many years, we have never met. My solicitor, Mr Curtis, manages any necessary correspondence, and a month ago, he informed me of Mr Wade’s intention to visit me in May.”

Jethro paused. “He also expressed a wish for me to introduce him into Weymouth society—and to meet my wife.”

Cassandra’s eyes grew wide. “Surely, you did not seek a bride just for the sake of a meeting with your business investor?”

Jethro rubbed the back of his neck, and he met her incredulous look with a blank stare of his own. It sounded ridiculous when she said it like that, but she couldn’t know what a huge challenge this was for him.

“I fear Mr Wade believes me to be more of a gentleman than I am. Though I have amassed considerable wealth, I dislike society and have avoided it as much as possible. Until now.”

“I see. And you wish me to smooth your path, to please your investor?”

Jethro tried to ignore the expression of—what? Incredulity? Disdain? He wasn’t sure. “Yes. I have never entertained at home, and have no notion what is expected of me. I do not find it easy to move in society. It is not the sphere into which I was born, and I fear my manners are too brusque to be generally pleasing. I need help to overcome these difficulties.”

“From your wife.”

“Yes—from my wife.”

“I will do my best.”

“I am pleased to see you bought a new dress to wear today.”

“It was most kind of you to think of it.”

“You will, I hope, find your allowance sufficient for your needs, but if it is not, please do not hesitate to mention the matter.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you’ll be happy here, Cassandra. And now I will put you into Mrs Timms’s capable hands and return to my work. ”

She arched her brow, questioning him with her eyes. “What about your manager? Can’t you leave Mr Crowley in charge and give me a tour of the house yourself?”

“I regret that won’t be possible. There is a ship in this afternoon, and I am needed down at the harbour.”

She pressed her lips tightly together, as if repressing some emotion. “I see. At least show me where my room is before you go.”

“Very well.”

He led her up the stairs and opened the door of the chamber next to his.

“I hope you like it.”

Cassandra’s countenance lit up as she walked to the window and gazed out at the sea, in the same way he often did. It warmed him to see the delight on her face. He had thought she would be more interested in the room, but no. It was the view that brought the smile to her lips.

It was a portal into the activity of the bustling harbour. On the quayside below, fisherwomen sorted the night’s catch whilst their menfolk washed down the decks of their vessels. Through a mesh of rigging, you could make out a rowing boat, taking a couple of people to a house on the Nothe Peninsula on the far side of the harbour.

Her eyes drifted away from the window to the door on one side of the room. “Where does that lead?”

“To your dressing room.”

She disappeared from sight as she examined the space and then returned and walked across to the door on the opposite side.

“And this?” she asked, with her fingers over the handle.

Heat rose up Jethro’s neck, warming his cheeks, and he looked away, unable to meet Cassandra’s eyes. “It connects to my bedchamber. ”

“Of course. I should have realised.”

“Do not fear I will intrude on your privacy,” he said, before she could ask any embarrassing questions about the more intimate aspects of marriage. “This is a business deal. There is a key in the lock, if you feel in greater need of security.”

“I see,” Cassandra said in such a small voice that Jethro jerked his gaze back to his wife’s face. There was a wistfulness in her expression that made him uncomfortable.

Isn’t this what she expected? She had agreed to a marriage of convenience, nothing more .

And he couldn’t afford to change the conditions of their agreement, even if he was tempted to, as she stood so close to his bedchamber, with that woebegone look in her eyes.

Jethro turned away before she could guess his thoughts and pulled on the bell cord to summon Mrs Timms.

It would be well for him if he did not enter her room again.

They needed to keep their relationship on a business footing. There was no space in his life for distractions. Not even from his wife.