Page 33 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

“I do not care for your meaning. I would never encourage another to break their wedding vows, however hastily they were said.”

“I may have married in haste, but I do not regret it. Our circumstances were complicated. Speed was the only option.”

“If Mrs Hunt is happy, I shall be well satisfied that I did a noble thing when I tied the two of you together in holy matrimony, however my heart misgave me.”

A fresh flood of irritation coursed through Jethro. How dare the man stand there, in his house, and coolly tell him he had not wanted to perform the ceremony?

“I wish my wife to be happy too—with the man she married, not another.”

Mr Barnes huffed and shook his head at Jethro, his eyes full of pity. “Do you know your wife so little? She would no more break her marriage vows than I would encourage her to do so. I have the utmost respect for Mrs Hunt. She is one of the kindest, sweetest ladies of my acquaintance, and was a pillar of strength when circumstances did not work out as we had both hoped.”

Jethro’s chest constricted, and for a moment, he struggled to breathe. As we had both hoped. Was it then as he feared? Mr Barnes had as good as admitted it. They were in love with each other, but could not wed.

Unable to marry the man of her choice, Cassandra had settled for Jethro. No wonder she had agreed to his businesslike proposal. Her heart was engaged elsewhere.

Jethro inhaled deeply, forcing his breathing back into a regular rhythm, as he tried to calm the disquiet that this revelation conjured.

“I wish you no harm, Mr Barnes, but please do not unsettle my wife by causing her to question her allegiance. Her loyalty is to me—her husband. Don’t make me doubt it.”

“I would never stand between a man and his wife, but—”

“Good day, Mr Barnes.”

Jethro shut the door behind him. He wished he could keep the door permanently closed against the man.

Mr Barnes had confessed his heart was in Weymouth, and he would not leave—and Cassandra had been relieved.

Her words pierced Jethro’s pride. Another stands in the place that should have been yours.

Why hadn’t he thought to ask her whether she had a prior attachment? He had plunged in, seeking a wife for his own reasons, all the time believing he was saving her as well as himself.

But if her heart belonged to another, he had not saved her. He had condemned her to a life separated forever from the man she loved.

Jethro had never suffered from a romantic disposition, so he had not thought it necessary to be in love with Cassandra in order to marry her.

And he had known she did not love him. So why did it matter now?

Why did it make him feel so empty to discover she had feelings for someone else? Was he secretly harbouring a hope that one day she would fall in love with him?

Perhaps their marriage of convenience wasn’t so convenient after all.

Jethro gave himself a shake. When had he become so sentimental? He must have been spending too much time with Crowley. His friend’s ideas were rubbing off on him.

It wasn’t love that was the issue, but loyalty, and he intended to confront Cassandra with what she’d said. But when he reached the door of the drawing room, he hesitated, and returned to his study.

Jethro couldn’t face her. Not now. He might say something they would both regret.

Chapter 17

Cassandra sat in the drawing room alone, pondering her husband’s strange behaviour. It was obvious to her he’d wanted Gilbert to leave, and to judge by his abrupt departure, the curate had been aware of it too. But what had he done to offend Jethro? Or was it her conduct that had upset him?

Surely, her husband could not object to her receiving a church minister alone. And if he did, it was hardly fair. It was his own fault. He should have joined her to receive their guests.

The minutes dragged by, but still Jethro did not reappear. She could hear distant voices in the hall, but could not make out the words. What was he saying to Gilbert? She hoped he was not making him uncomfortable because of her indiscretion—if, indeed, she had been indiscreet.

The door opened again, and she looked up, expecting to see her husband, but it was her maid. She bobbed a curtsey and took a seat in the far corner of the room.

Cassandra did not need to ask why she was there. Mary Ann was to be her chaperon, because Jethro was not coming back. He was too busy to spend one morning in her company, but still objected to her seeing gentleman visitors alone.