Page 25 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

It was reassuring she had her stepsister’s company, though he wished she had gone with one of her friends. Her sister had made no secret of her disapproval of their hasty marriage, and if Cassandra was dissatisfied with the bargain she’d agreed to, Julia would prove a ready listener to her complaints.

The thought made him uneasy.

Jethro climbed the stairs to his bedchamber and was surprised to find the door leading to his wife’s room ajar. The maid must have left it open when airing the rooms.

He moved to close it, but paused when he caught the sound of a female voice coming from the next chamber.

“I think she married him for his money.”

Jethro stiffened. He recognised the voice as belonging to Sally, the girl assigned to wait on Cassandra.

“Why would you say a thing like that? It’s not right to judge others.”

That was another of his maids—Mary Ann, he thought.

“Why else would she marry him?” Sally said.

“Mr Hunt is a good master. I won’t hear you say a word against him.”

“That’s as may be, but don’t you think it’s a wonder that it all happened so fast?” asked Sally. “One day he announces his betrothal and the next he’s married—and to the rector’s daughter, no less.”

“Rich folks have no need to wait. There’s nothing so surprising about that.”

“Ooh. Maybe she needed to get married—”

“That’s enough,” snapped Mary Ann. “I have work to do, and I haven’t got time to chatter when the master’s fire is yet to be made up. I’ll thank you not to slow me down, and if you have any sense, you’ll close your mouth before it gets you into trouble.”

Jethro chose that moment to make his entrance. He pushed the door back and stood glowering on the threshold. The two young women cowered before him as he addressed Sally.

“How dare you cast aspersions on my wife’s character or my own? Have you no respect for those who pay your wages?”

As he vented his anger in a barrage of harsh words, the maid’s face drained of colour.

“I will not have such disloyalty in my house. You may pack your things and leave. Now.”

Sally burst into tears, but Jethro was unmoved. “Go.”

She fled from the room as if afraid he would hit her, but he never lashed out with his hand. Only with his tongue.

He turned to the other maid. “Well, Mary Ann. What have you got to say for yourself? You should have squashed Sally’s gossip when it started.”

The girl nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Hmm. Your own loyal words redeemed you, but remember this: it is better to stamp out such talk the moment it arises. Gossip is like a dandelion head, full of seeds. One breath, and the weed spreads, even if the original flower dies.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jethro paused. Sally’s departure left his wife without a maid. “Can you style hair?”

Mary Ann’s face brightened. “Yes, sir.”

“Would you like the chance to better your position and become Mrs Hunt’s maid?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Good. Now, make up my fire and then clean yourself up. I will tell Mrs Timms of the alteration, and she’ll give you a fresh smock. If my wife is satisfied with your performance, I’ll make the role permanent. If not, you’ll be back to being a chambermaid as soon as I can replace you. And don’t let me catch you listening to gossip again.”

Mary Ann bobbed a curtsey, grabbed her basket of kindling, and slipped through the door into his bedroom to make up his fire as fast as she could.