Page 2 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

“Didn’t he anticipate your father might die whilst he was away and provide for you?”

Cassandra flinched at the implied criticism and hurried to defend her brother. “He believed he had made provision for us—to stay with the lady to whom he was betrothed when he sailed.”

“Then you have a place of refuge?”

Cassandra’s stomach soured at the thought. “I would rather earn my keep than reside with her. She decided she couldn’t wait for my brother’s return and married another.”

“Despicable!”

She was surprised at his vehemence. “Indeed it is, and I fear my brother must be heartbroken—but I do not see how this is relevant.”

“I wish to know what has driven you to the extremity of seeking employment.”

Hmm. That sounded reasonable.

He paused for a moment before speaking again. “Did you keep house for your father?”

That question was unexpected, and somewhat discouraging. To lower herself to be a companion was bad enough, but to be a housekeeper? She resolved to know the worst at once.

“Did I not make myself clear in my advertisement? Do you require a lady’s companion or a housekeeper?”

He ignored her, pursuing his own line of questioning. “Did you act as hostess for your father?”

“After my stepmother’s death—yes, I did.”

“And did you have a season?”

“This sounds like an interrogation, Mr Hunt.”

“Please, humour me.”

Had she been less desperate, she would have walked out. As it was, she swallowed her bile and answered, trying to ignore the chagrin that accompanied the recollection. “I had a single season in Bath, but received no offers.”

“You sound disappointed.”

Of course she was disappointed. She longed for a home like her own had been before her mother had died. Full of love and kindness. She yearned for a child of her own. But her marriage prospects had never been high—a woman with no dowry and few pretensions to beauty. Soon, they would be non-existent.

If she had received no offers as the daughter of a respectable clergyman, what chance was there of marriage after lowering herself to serve as a lady’s companion? Very little. If she became a housekeeper? None at all.

“There is not much a gentlewoman can do apart from marry, unless she loses all pretension to gentility. If I became your housekeeper, it would reduce me to such a level.”

“I don’t need a housekeeper. It is a companion I require.”

Cassandra exhaled slowly. Her situation was so desperate she would have accepted the role if that was all on offer, but it was a relief to know she would not have to stoop that low.

“And who would I be a companion to? Your mother?”

Mr Hunt frowned. “My mother died years ago.”

“Then your sister?”

“I don’t have a sister.”

Rather than getting Mr Hunt to list all the female relatives he hadn’t got, Cassandra decided it would be best just to ask. “Then, who is it that needs a companion?”

“Me.”

Heat rushed to her face at the import of his words, and she leaped up from her chair as if she had been burned. She had assumed the plainness of her features would protect her from improper advances, but perhaps she had underestimated the attraction of an unprotected woman.