Page 112 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

“I appreciate your confidence in me, but why? I find it hard to comprehend why a successful businessman like yourself would put such faith in someone you only met face to face for the first time when you came to Weymouth last month.”

Mr Wade chuckled. “Why shouldn’t I believe in you? You have proved yourself to be a shrewd man of business, and you are far too much like your father was at your age for me to doubt you.”

“My father? You knew him?”

Cassandra could hear the eagerness in Jethro’s tone—a longing for any information about the man he’d never known.

Mr Wade nodded.

Then she had been right. The miniature she had found in the locked drawer of the desk was of Mr Wade. His investment in Jethro’s company was more than just coincidence. He had been acquainted with her husband’s parents.

Cassandra had refrained from sharing what she’d discovered, hoping she was wrong, but it seemed she had held her tongue for no purpose. The truth was out, and she could not save her husband from the inevitable blow to his pride.

“Then that is why you have invested in my firm for all these years,” Jethro said, spitting out his words in bitterness, “and not because of the promise you saw in me when I was starting out?”

“Don’t sound so dismissive. I am first and foremost a man of business. Regardless of our relationship, I would not jeopardise my fortune by investing in an enterprise doomed to fail. You can be sure that if you hadn’t shown potential, I wouldn’t have put a penny behind you.”

Jethro grunted. “Our relationship? I’d hardly call it that. It’s more a connection, and a tenuous one at that. But after years of being content for it to be only that, why turn up now to make my acquaintance? Why not before, when you first invested in my firm?”

“Because I promised your mother, but since she has passed away, I no longer feel bound—”

“You knew my mother as well? Why did she never tell me?”

“Because she didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what?”

“That I’m your father.”

Chapter 60

Jethro closed his eyes tight, his head spinning as he processed the man’s words. What could Mr Wade hope to achieve by claiming to be his father?

Despite the fierce beating of his heart, he needed to employ the logic that served him so well in his business. There were only two options. Either Mr Wade was telling the truth—or he was not.

Jethro forced himself to take several deep breaths. He had to weigh the new information with what he already knew—and it didn’t fit together.

Mr Wade must be lying, unless…

Jethro’s chest constricted as the only other alternative presented itself. Could his mother—his loving, God-fearing mother—have lied to him all these years?

He dismissed the thought at once. Why should he trust a stranger rather than the only parent he’d ever known?

He reopened his eyes and glared at Mr Wade, his normal confidence reasserting itself. “You are talking nonsense. I cannot be your son. My father is dead.”

Without waiting for the man to respond, he tucked Cassandra’s arm within his own and turned to her brother, who silently watched the drama unfold whilst battling to stay awake.

“Forgive me, Alexander. You look ready for your bed. Come. It is time we went home.”

That was an understatement. Jethro could not wait to get out of the room—away from Mr Wade and his rash claims.

“Please don’t leave yet. Give me the chance to explain. I appreciate it is hard for you to take in, but I am your father.”

Jethro’s body tensed again. Why did Mr Wade have to keep saying that?

“My brother-in-law is almost asleep,” he said, helping him struggle to his feet. “We’ve stayed too long already.”

With Cassandra on his arm, he marched out of the room, Alexander trailing behind them, leaning on his stick.