Page 24 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

“I’m not likely to forget. I trip over you all day at the warehouse. The question is, why did you hire me if you’re intent on being here all the time? Don’t you trust me to manage your business for you when you’re away?”

Did he trust Crowley? Yes. With his life, if need be. But if he wasn’t here, what would he do with himself?

“I do, but—”

“Then prove it. Leave your desk for a while. Go home and spend some time with your lovely wife. Take her for a walk, or drive out in that chaise of yours you hardly use.”

“Cassandra does not expect it of me. Our marriage is not like yours. I’ve told you before, it’s a business arrangement—nothing more. She needed a home. I needed a wife to smooth my way into polite society, and with Mr Wade coming to Weymouth—”

Crowley narrowed his eyes at him. “And love doesn’t come into it?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jethro snapped. “You can’t suppose I fell in love with a woman I hardly knew.”

“But you vowed to love her?”

“Yes. That is part of the marriage ceremony, as you are well aware.”

“And how are you showing her that love?”

“I’ve given her a home, security, more pin money than she could possibly need, a position of respect—”

“And I’m sure she’s very grateful, but that’s not love. What about tenderness, affection?”

His words made Jethro squirm as much as if he had just eaten a worm. Why couldn’t his friend understand that his marriage was different?

“We have mutual respect for each other.” That was the basis for their agreement. It was as simple as that.

Crowley shook his head in sympathy. “Heed my words, every woman craves affection. I hope you learn that before it’s too late.”

Jethro scowled. “What do you mean by that?”

“If you don’t give your wife the affection she needs, she’ll find it somewhere else.”

This time his friend had gone too far. “You forget yourself. How dare you suggest Cassandra would be unfaithful to me?”

“That’s not what I meant. If you don’t satisfy her need for affection, she’ll look to other people in her life to supply it—her sister, her brother, her friends.”

However much Jethro wanted to dismiss Crowley’s words, they struck a chord within him, that resonated through his whole being. Did Cassandra crave his affection? It seemed unlikely, given the nature of their relationship, but just enough doubt crept in to chip away at his assurance.

The only thing he remained certain of was that he had to escape from his friend before he was consumed by guilt for paying his wife such scant attention since their marriage.

“Hmm. If you say so. Now, you must excuse me. I am going home. To my wife.”

Jethro ignored the smug look on his manager’s face as he slid off the desk, and left his office, whistling as he went. Let Crowley think he’d won his point if he wanted. As long as it kept his friend from making any more observations about his marriage.

Jethro arrived home more than half an hour earlier than usual, to the obvious astonishment of the footman who opened the door.

Perhaps Crowley was right, and he should spend more time with Cassandra. He could at least show willing. It couldn’t hurt.

“Where is my wife, Young?”

“Mrs Hunt has not yet returned from town.”

Jethro frowned. So much for showing willing. She couldn’t be pining for his company—she wasn’t even here. “Was she alone?”

“No, sir. She was with her sister.”

Crowley’s words came back to him. Was Cassandra looking to Julia for affection, rather than him? Perhaps. But what did it matter? As long as his wife was content.