Page 50 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

His wife was still talking, but he needed to sit down. The journey must be taking its toll on him.

Without a word, he turned away, and he sensed rather than heard that she had, at last, stopped speaking.

He plodded down the corridor to the small parlour. Relieved to find the room unaltered, he flopped into an armchair.

Cassandra trailed after him and took the chair opposite.

“I’m sorry. Don’t you like it?”

Jethro scowled. “Like it? No. I don’t.”

Cassandra’s cheeks flushed red. “You said I could—”

Her shoulders slumped. “I should have guessed you didn’t mean it. That you wanted to make the decisions yourself.”

“I didn’t expect you to get rid of all my furniture. Where is my mother’s desk? Did you value it so little?”

“On the contrary, I had it taken upstairs to my bedroom—”

“Where I could no longer see it—”

“To keep it safe. I didn’t want to risk it getting damaged.”

“Humph!”

Her bottom lip quivered. Jethro knew it was his fault, but he hadn’t got the energy to fight his annoyance.

“I’m sorry you don’t like it,” she said. “I’ll ask Mr Perkins to paint it white again.”

“There’s no need. That would take even longer. I’m sure I’ll get used to it. When will it be finished?”

“The paintings I’ve commissioned for the walls are not ready yet, and the carpet won’t be delivered for another few weeks, so—”

“Where am I supposed to sit in the meantime? In here? Or are you going to turn this room upside down as well?”

Cassandra leaped to her feet, her jaw trembling. “I won’t touch this room. I won’t touch anything ever again if you’re going to rant at me like that for trying to help. No one would take you for a fashionable gentleman when your drawing room looks like it was thrown together with someone else’s castoffs.”

Jethro closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had been looking forward to seeing Cassandra again and yet he had only been home a few hours, and he’d already upset her. How could it all have gone wrong so fast?

He swiped his palm across his forehead. The heat was making his head ache. He needed to think clearly.

Somewhere deep inside, a small voice prompted him. Tell her how you feel.

He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed hold of her hand to stop her from leaving. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t go. I didn’t mean it. My head aches so much I can’t think. I was looking forward to returning to the comforts of home and it was a shock to find my drawing room in an uproar. And I didn’t enjoy discovering a strange man in my house, talking to my wife, so she was too busy to greet me.”

Cassandra gave him a curious look and raised her other hand to his cheek. It felt so cool. So smooth. So soft.

This time, he would not resist if she embraced him. He would take her in his arms and kiss her thoroughly.

Chapter 28

Cassandra stood still, not daring to move, afraid that if she did, her husband would pull away from her touch—but he didn’t.

Five minutes ago, he had ranted at her for disrupting his drawing room, but now?

Seeing Jethro’s flushed cheeks, she had raised her hand on instinct, thinking he might have a fever. And she had been right. His skin was burning up.

Cassandra knew she should encourage him to retire, but she didn’t want him to go.