Page 85 of Miss Vincent’s Vow

He still had no idea what Cassandra meant. “What man?”

“The man in the green jacket who follows me about. Don’t try to deny it.”

Jethro’s chest tightened. Someone was following his wife. But who? Why?

“I hope you are satisfied with his reports. They must be dreadfully boring. Did you truly think I would break my wedding vows? I would never be unfaithful to you. Never. And it hurts that you trust me so little that—”

He put a finger over her lips. “I do trust you.”

She brushed his hand away. “Then why do you employ a man to follow me about? To pester my sister and question the servants.”

“I don’t.”

Cassandra’s eyes grew large, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. “You don’t?”

“No.”

She grasped both his arms, and he could feel her whole body trembling. Eyes full of fear, she stared up at him. “Then why is someone watching me?”

Jethro wished he knew.

Chapter 45

Cassandra felt as if one dark cloud had lifted, only to be replaced by another, more sinister than the first.

It was a relief to learn that Jethro wasn’t spying on her. That despite everything that had happened, she had not lost his trust. But if the man in the green jacket was not in Jethro’s employ, who was he, and why was he watching her?

To believe her husband was responsible had been humiliating, but discovering the spy had not been engaged by him to watch her was disturbing, and rather frightening.

Jethro tucked her arm securely within his own. “What does this man look like? I’ll report him to the constable.”

Cassandra tried to describe him. “Somewhat taller than you, but stockier, with a mop of brown hair and a face that suggests he’s been in a few fights. He always wears a shabby green jacket, rather longer than is fashionable, and his overall appearance is more that of a vagrant than a gentleman.”

“Hmm. That’s not much to go on,” Jethro said.

“It’s the best I can do. I’ll point him out to you if I spot him, but I’ve never yet seen him when I’m in your company, which is why it didn’t seem such an outlandish supposition that you had hired him to watch me.”

“What a vivid imagination you have, my dear.”

“But what else was I to think? Julia told me the man had been pressing her for information about me, as if he was seeking a means to discredit me. It was she who first put it in my mind that you were behind it and had engaged the spy to keep an eye on me.”

“I’ll have to remember to thank her for that,” he said with a wry grin.

“I’m sorry. I should have known you would not behave in such an underhand way.”

Jethro sighed. “I’m sorry too. If I hadn’t been so unapproachable—so caught up in my fear that you blamed me for what happened—perhaps we could have had this conversation weeks ago.”

They stood together, gazing down at the harbour, and beyond it, to the bay. Cassandra breathed in the fresh air—an aroma of grass tinged with salt—and felt the tightness in her chest relax.

The idyllic panorama seemed a long way away from the talk of spies. Especially with her husband beside her, sharing the moment.

“There’s our house,” he said, gesturing across the harbour in the direction of Devonshire Buildings. “And there’s my warehouse. Do you see it?”

Before she could answer, Jethro moved behind her.

“Here. Let me show you,” he said, lifting her hand and pointing her forefinger at a two-storey building on the Quay. “Can you see it now?”

“Mm-hmm,” Cassandra mumbled, struggling to concentrate on anything but the feel of Jethro’s body against her own. It was most distracting.