Page 30 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

And then he remembered why he had been prompted to marry. His need to impress Mr Wade.

If he secured another round of capital investment, he could expand his business and overtake Frampton as the number one merchant in Weymouth.

A little voice at the back of his mind murmured that then he would have even less time for the gentleman’s way of life. Even less time for his wife.

Chapter 15

In the days that followed, Cassandra noticed a change in Jethro’s behaviour. He made the point of sitting with her in the drawing room each evening after dinner. They talked little, but it was companionable—he with a book and she with her embroidery.

She would not easily forget the overbearing manner in which he had dismissed her maid, but his eagerness to make his peace with her gave her more patience to deal with his stubbornness.

Cassandra was passing through the hall when the stationer’s delivery boy arrived with the visiting cards. She was eager to see what they looked like. Had it been a mistake to leave Jethro to order them? She hoped not.

“Thank you, Martin. I’ll take this to Mr Hunt.”

She took the parcel to her husband’s study, where she knew he was working that morning.

Cassandra knocked, and when Jethro barked, “Come!” she opened the door.

It was the first time she had entered the room since he had proposed to her, and she could not help feeling she was intruding. This impression was only heightened when he glanced up from his desk, his expression darkening.

“Cassandra. Is something wrong?”

Why did he assume that? Was it incomprehensible that she might want to see her husband before dinnertime?

“No. These arrived, and I thought you’d want to see them straightaway, as they need to be sent out as soon as possible.”

Cassandra held out the parcel, but Jethro did not take it from her.

“I haven’t got time to look at them now. Put the package on the side and I’ll—no. Why don’t you check over the cards, and if they’re satisfactory, you can spend your afternoon addressing them, and give them to Martin to deliver today.”

Cassandra bit back her disappointment. While she appreciated the trust that Jethro placed in her judgement, it was not the outcome she wanted. “I hoped we might do it together.”

“Impossible. I’ve far too much to do.”

Her gaze shifted to the beautifully inlaid writing table she had noticed the last time she had been in his study. “I could sit in here and write them,” she said. “A few more cards have been left since we made our list, and if I have a query, you’d be on hand to answer it. I could use that pretty desk—”

“No.”

What did he mean by that? Was he afraid she would disturb him? “I assure you, I would be very quiet.”

“I can’t have you in here while I’m working.”

Cassandra should have expected as much, though she wished her husband wasn’t so blunt. Before she retreated, she asked him about the bureau. It was a lovely piece of furniture—one she would be proud to have on display—and Jethro could have no use for it.

“Perhaps we could move the desk to the drawing room, then. I confess, I admire it very much, and it is such a shame to keep it shut away in here, where no one can see it.”

“No. It was my mother’s. If you need a writing table, I’ll buy you one, but that desk stays in here. With me.”

How ridiculous! She closed her mouth firmly to prevent her from saying as much.

Jethro stared at her, his expression unreadable. “If you please, Cassandra. I’ve work to do.”

Of course he had. He always had work to do. And his wife would never rank above his business.

With the box of visiting cards under her arm, she left the room, restraining the unladylike impulse to slam the door behind her.

As Jethro had refused to get involved in the business of sending out their cards, Cassandra suited her own inclination and set an early date to receive visitors. She had no wish to keep slipping away after church services without speaking to anyone. It was time for her to enter society as a married woman.