Page 103 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

She felt as if she’d been cornered. “No, but—”

“Then I’m coming. I want to see Eugenia. There are things left unsaid between us.”

Cassandra did not like the sound of that. Not one bit.

“I don’t think you’ve thought this through…”

Every argument she put forward, Xander dismissed. She had been so sure her brother would refuse the invitation, but he seemed determined to go with them. How was she going to break the news to her husband?

“Well?” Jethro asked.

“He said he’d come with us.”

Jethro’s face paled, his brow furrowed with concern. Cassandra longed to reach out to him and kiss his frowns away.

Her breathing faltered. Had she really just thought that? She wanted to kiss her husband?

Yes, she did. Her heart thumped so loudly in her chest—as if applauding her desire—that she imagined Jethro must be able to hear it.

But if he did, he gave no sign of it. His expression remained unchanged, pale and drawn.

The dinner party was going to be a disaster, and it was her fault.

How could she avert the catastrophe looming over their heads? She had failed to dissuade Xander from joining them. He seemed determined to face Eugenia, even if it killed him—or destroyed Jethro’s business.

It was then she remembered the doctor’s suggestion, that a clergyman might be of service to her brother.

“I’ll ask Mr Barnes to call,” she said. “Perhaps he can help Xander find a way through the darkness that shrouds him.” And persuade Xander of the unwisdom of subjecting himself to more pain by confronting Eugenia again, especially in unfamiliar company.

“Yes, do that,” Jethro said in clipped tones.

The touch of bitterness in his voice cut deep. He had already lost hope, and he blamed her for letting him down.

Cassandra’s eyes pleaded with her husband not to give up on her so quickly, but he turned his face away toward the sea, and she had to swallow her disappointment that he suddenly seemed so distant.

With renewed resolve, she gritted her teeth. She would not let him surrender to the inevitable calamity. There was still time to change Xander’s mind. She would write to Gilbert as soon as she got home and ask him to call as early as was convenient on the following day.

Xander would listen to a clergyman, especially one as devout as Mr Barnes.

She shot a covert glance at her husband’s back. Jethro’s shoulders drooped and his neck bent forward. How she hated seeing him so downcast, instead of the optimistic man of strength she had come to trust.

She would not add to his troubles by raising false hopes. Cassandra did not like to be secretive, but it would be better for Jethro if he did not know of the curate’s visit.

There would be time enough for confessions if Gilbert’s persuasions succeeded.

Chapter 55

Jethro chose to work in his study the next day, rather than going to the warehouse. Though he told himself there was nothing unusual about that, deep down, he knew his true motives. He wanted to be at home if the curate called.

He had been so sure Cassandra’s feelings for Mr Barnes had faded. Even that she felt something for her husband.

But all his fears had returned with a vengeance when he had seen the way Cassandra’s entire face had lit up when she had mentioned consulting the curate the day before. As if she delighted in having an innocent reason for talking to him.

Although he hated himself for doubting his wife, Jethro would not be played the fool. He would throw Barnes out of his house himself if he found the least cause to do so.

He left his study door ajar, and it was not long after breakfast that he heard voices in the hallway announcing the arrival of visitors. His body tensed as he recognised the curate’s mellow tones.

He consulted his pocket watch. Too early for a regular morning call. Mr Barnes must have come at his wife’s request. But if that was so, why hadn’t she told him about it—or was the visit less innocent than it looked?