Page 58 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

As much as she wanted to dismiss the possibility, it seemed as if Jethro was spying on her. Who else would be interested in learning about her dealings with other men?

It was most disturbing and made her want to hide her innermost thoughts away. She no longer felt inclined to share her desire for a family with Jethro. It would be safer to keep her feelings to herself.

Chapter 31

Cassandra returned home, feeling more vexed than when she had left. She sat in the newly completed drawing room, attacking her embroidery with a vigour mirroring the level of her frustration.

It wasn’t fair. Why did Jethro have so little faith in her? She’d done everything in her power to uphold her end of their bargain, but even her devoted nursing had failed to garner his trust. Now he was back at work, and his man was spying on her again. It was disappointing, to say the least.

She surveyed the new decorations, wondering if Jethro would appreciate what she’d done in bringing the room more up to date. The rich colours of the carpet exuded warmth and counterbalanced the lightness of the walls, whilst the seascapes she had commissioned fitted her scheme perfectly.

But her satisfaction at transforming the drawing room seemed hollow compared to the lack of harmony with her husband.

She longed for him to view the finished effect, hoping it might encourage him to sit with her after dinner again, as was his habit, before he’d been ill. Though perhaps she shouldn’t be in such a hurry to show it to him, as he would probably find something to criticise.

At a quarter to five, Jethro arrived home from the warehouse and Cassandra went into the hall to greet him. His shoulders sagged, suggesting it had been a long, demanding day.

Foolish man! If he pushed himself too hard, he would have a relapse. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if it meant nursing him again. But would it be the same now? She doubted it.

Cassandra waited for the footman to take his hat and cane before greeting him.

“The drawing room is finished. Would you like to see it?”

He raised tired eyes at her. “I’m famished.”

She bit back her disappointment at his lack of interest. “Maybe when you’re dressed for dinner?”

He nodded and went upstairs to get ready. After that first day, he’d never questioned the need to change his clothes before sitting down to eat. Though she could tell he still rebelled against it, he had learned what polite society required of him, and he did it without demur.

Jethro joined her in the drawing room a short while later.

He glanced around him. “So this is what a fashionable receiving room looks like, is it?”

“Yes. Do you approve?”

He shrugged. “I don’t suppose it will be as comfortable.”

“You’re wrong,” she said, hurrying to put him right. “Though the sofas are modern in style, I have made sure they are well-cushioned, and the backs are such that I think you will find them as pleasant to sit on as the old chairs.”

He huffed, glancing up and down. “You didn’t try to match the ceiling with the carpet?”

“No. I had no wish to replicate Eugenia’s design. I hoped, rather, to give the feel of the outdoors—the pale blue walls, the deeper blue drapes, and the swirls of blue and green in the carpet, to remind us of the sea.”

“You’ve done well. I’m sure Mr Wade will admire your efforts, though we’ll have to wait somewhat longer than expected to discover his opinion. Business matters have forced him to delay his visit again, and he won’t be coming here until July now. ”

Jethro walked over to the far side of the room and examined the wall above the fireplace, where a picture of Weymouth harbour hung. “Where did this come from? I don’t remember seeing a bill for it.”

“I didn’t want you to pay for a painting you might not like, so I bought it out of my pin money.”

“And these two as well?” he enquired, inspecting the other views of Weymouth she had commissioned. “Even with the generous allowance I give you, I am surprised you could afford three paintings of this quality. How much did they cost?”

“They were not so dear as you might think. I asked Mr Barnes to paint them for me, and he refused to accept a proper price for them. Our curate’s a talented artist, as I’m sure you’ll agree. I hope you like them.”

Jethro’s expression hardened. “Take them down and I will buy replacements. I don’t want them in here. If you bought them with your pin money, they belong to you. ”

Cassandra gulped hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. Bother the man. Why was Jethro being so harsh? Was his wretched pride piqued because she had paid for the paintings herself?

She was tempted to argue. It was not fair. He had given her free rein with the redecorations, and yet he still wanted control.