Page 39 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

Only time would tell if she had made the right choice.

Would Jethro decline to stand up with her? It was a very real possibility. Because Cassandra had never seen him dance—and she didn’t know if he could.

Chapter 20

Jethro leaned back in his chair, listening to the rest of the men talk. It was at times like this he had the advantage. With a clear head, not befuddled by spirits or excess wine, he could sometimes learn things that others let drop in their less guarded moments.

“Just a little hint,” said Mr Frampton, touching the side of his nose twice with his forefinger, “but there might be something new on the horizon of Frampton and Frampton.”

Nothing about Jethro’s demeanour suggested he was paying attention, but he was listening intently to every word.

“Is that all you’ll tell us?” asked one of the other men.

“I might be going up in the world.”

“Planning to put trade behind you and become a real gentleman at last?” another man said with a chortle.

“Something like that. If this works out, it might be possible. I’ll know after I’ve spoken to Mr Wade.”

Jethro tensed. What was his rival doing talking to his investor?

All his senses were on the alert as a murmur went around the table. Mr Wade’s name was well known in the business community. He had made the step up from trade to being accepted in the highest echelons of society—a dream that most of these men aspired to.

What was Frampton up to? Was this a speculative move on his behalf, or was there more to it?

“He’s visiting Weymouth next month and desires a meeting,” his rival continued. “Who knows where that will lead?”

Jethro had his answer. Mr Wade wanted to meet Frampton as well as him. That didn’t sound good. Not at all.

Perhaps Jethro’s plans to expand the business were not as secure as he thought. It would be a nuisance if he had to find another investor. Not impossible, but it would slow him down. Unless he could outplay his rival and obtain Mr Wade’s investment for himself.

“Come along, gentlemen,” Mr Frampton said, rising from his chair. “We’ve been at the bottle long enough and my wife will not be pleased if we delay any longer.”

He clapped Jethro on the back. “Got to keep the ladies happy, eh, Hunt?”

The man’s familiarity grated on him, but Jethro kept his irritation under control. If Cassandra could sweet talk the Framptons, so could he. They would win this battle.

“Yes, indeed. My wife’s happiness is of paramount importance to me, as I’m sure yours is to you.”

Mr Frampton replied with a cheerful nod and led the men back into the drawing room. “Why, what have we here, my love?” he asked his wife.

“We thought a little dancing would not go amiss. Please, say you’ll humour us. We have so few chances to dance now we’re married.”

Mr Frampton pinched her cheek. “Of course, my dear. Well, gentlemen. It seems the evening’s entertainment is far more active than I had expected. Who’s up for the first set?”

Jethro searched through the group of women until his gaze rested on his wife. He met her eyes and was concerned to see the nervousness—or was it panic?—in them.

Was she trying to convey some message to him? He was blowed if he knew what it was. Did she want him to dance with her or not?

Mrs Frampton grabbed Cassandra by the hand and brought her over to him. “You must head up the first set with your lovely wife, as you are the most recently married couple.”

He hesitated to take Cassandra’s hand, causing the look of panic in her eyes to intensify.

“Why, Mr Hunt? Don’t you want to stand up with your wife? I can assure you no one here will censure you, though none of us would normally partner our spouses. It would be shameful of you to decline, after we’ve taken such pains to convince her. She had some notion of it being too soon after her father’s death. Unless you would rather not dance with your wife for any reason.”

Mrs Frampton’s words hung in the air. What was her game? Did she think to reinforce the rumour that Cassandra was in a delicate condition because she believed he couldn’t dance?

Yes, that was it. She thought she had him, didn’t she? That she had put him in a spot, just because he didn’t normally attend such functions.