Page 22 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

“Good. I wouldn’t like him to overhear our conversation. You might not be free to tell me what you really think.”

Her words echoed loudly in Cassandra’s mind, filling it with concern. Had inviting Julia been a mistake? No. It would be wrong not to keep up with her sister, despite her immaturity. She hoped there would come a day when Julia grew up and became a more comfortable companion.

If she withdrew contact now, perhaps her sister would never find the faith in God that Cassandra had. A faith that sustained her through every difficulty—including the trials of being married to an absentee husband.

After having a tour of the house, Julia expressed herself disappointed. “I thought the rooms would be more fashionably furnished. Anyone would think your husband had no money. I’ve never seen such a dowdy drawing room. You’d better do something about that as soon as possible.”

“I have it in mind,” Cassandra assured her sister, “but I can’t change everything overnight. What is of more import at the moment is refreshing my wardrobe. Apart from the dress I wore for my wedding, I’ve nothing to wear that’s not black. Would you like to come with me to Mrs Fisher’s and help me choose some gowns? You always had a better eye for fashion than me.”

Julia looped her arm through Cassandra’s. “Now, spending money is something at which I am an expert. Miss Seymour subscribes to La Belle Assemblée, The Lady’s Magazine and Ackermann’s Repository, so I know all the latest trends. Don’t you worry. By the time we’re done, your husband will barely recognise you.”

When they arrived at the dressmaker’s shop, Cassandra let Julia discuss designs with Mrs Fisher on her behalf. Fashion was not of great interest to her, and it gave her sister such pleasure. She trusted Bridget to curb Julia’s more extravagant suggestions.

The two sisters were more in accord with each other than they’d been in a long time as they traipsed from shop to shop, buying half-boots and slippers, and stockings and embroidery silks.

“I confess, your pin money astounds me. I thought your husband would have been more tight-fisted than that.”

“He is all that is generous.”

“Then why aren’t you happy?”

Cassandra wrinkled her brow. Did her frustrations show on her face, or was Julia seeing something that wasn’t there?

“Is he a demanding husband?”

Cassandra’s cheeks burned, and she did not know where to look. She refused to admit to her sister that in some areas, Jethro was far from demanding. But perhaps Julia hadn’t meant that. Perhaps she was merely asking whether he was difficult to please.

That was not a question she was willing to answer either, so she tried to turn the subject. “He doesn’t like me being in the kitchen. He wants me to be a lady of leisure.”

“I wouldn’t complain about being forced to be lazy,” Julia said with a laugh. “Maybe I should have wed him instead of you! A life of pleasure would have suited me. Oh, don’t look so serious. I’m only teasing. I wouldn’t have married your stuffy husband for the world. But you know that’s not what I was asking. Is he—”

“Have you heard from Xander?” Cassandra asked, cutting off her sister before she could embarrass her further.

Julia scowled. “I see you won’t confide in me.”

Cassandra felt a moment’s temptation. It would be a relief to unburden herself, to tell her sister just how hard it was, and how she wished she had a marriage like Julia dreamed of—with deep-rooted affection at the core.

But she dismissed the idea in a trice. She knew from bitter experience the relief would be short-lived. It would be dangerous to confide in Julia, because she was a poor keeper of secrets.

Besides, she had no wish to reveal the details of her marriage to her sister or anyone else.

“You can admit it to me. Do you wish you hadn’t married him?”

Cassandra replied on instinct. “No.”

And it was true. Despite her misgivings, she didn’t regret marrying Jethro—yet.

Even if she was already lamenting her marriage, she wouldn’t have admitted it to Julia. She would not be disloyal to her husband, however she felt.

Jethro was an upright man, and he had promised to love her, and she would do the same. She was foolish to think it would be easy. It took work. Two into one did not go willingly.

It was too early to despair of their bond growing deeper than their legal union as husband and wife.

“Huh! Have it your way,” snapped Julia, their short-lived truce at an end, “but you can be sure I won’t confide my secrets to you when you won’t share yours. I suppose I shall see you about town, sometime or other. Don’t expect me to call. I’m not a lady of leisure and must return to school. At least I know it’s not for life.”

Her words stung, but Cassandra did not stop her. Julia had spent too many years being pampered to cope well with her will being crossed.

As she watched her sister go, her eyes were drawn to a man standing nearby, who seemed to be waiting for someone, rather than passing down the street on his business.