Page 124 of An Inconvenient Vow

It was far too early for Hugo to be up and about, so having packed her few things, Sabina broke her fast alone. She had just finished her last mouthful of toasted bread when she heard the door bang and Jeffree appeared in the doorway.

“Good morning,” she greeted him and, to her annoyance, felt her color rise at the sight of him. Then she noticed his irate expression. “What has happened now?” she asked with dismay. “Not another fight, surely?”

He huffed and started pacing about the room. “Not a fight, no,” he said tersely, “but I finally ran into that bastard Kentigern!”

Sabina pushed back her chair, unable to mask her expression of alarm. “What happened, Jeffree?” she asked with misgiving.

He ran a hand through his curling, fair locks. “I—I told him I would be revenged by giving his wife the crown at Beres Caple,” he admitted with loathing.

“Oh. Is that all?” She was relieved. Heated words were not so bad.

He glared at her. “What do you mean, is that all?”

“Well, you see Hugo explained it to me.”

“Hugo?”

“Cousin Hugo?” she ventured, seeing his furious expression.

He relaxed slightly. “What did he explain exactly?”

“Well, just that you knights are always doing peculiar things like that.” She shrugged. “So I know now that I should not set any store by it.”

Jeffree still looked annoyed, so she made haste to direct him to the place Wilton had put out for him and the large platter of roasted fish. For some reason, she had thought things might be different between them this morning.

Really, she chided herself. Did you think this husband of yours was going to greet you with a kiss on waking? Start making you flowery speeches? She smiled wryly to herself. Jeffree was just not made that way. Already she could see he was going to be in a foul temper all morning.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked grumpily.

“Why should I not smile?” she replied. “When sat opposite such a handsome husband.” She had been aiming to tease him out of his mood, and Jeffree could not have looked more startled if she had started spouting poetry. His blond brows snapped together, and his cheeks turned rather pink.

Clearing his throat, he reached for the bread. “We leave in a half-hour,” he muttered. “The horses have been made ready.”

“I am all packed,” she told him brightly.

Soon they had left the capital far behind them. Despite the straight roads and blue skies, Jeffree seemed to be traveling under a thundercloud, Sabina reflected with a sigh. In truth, it ought to be her sat moping in her saddle. She still had the worst misgivings about what they were going to find on their return to Ganfordshire.

This plot that Sir Charles had written to Jeffree about, what could it be other than Isemay’s bizarre revenge against his son and heir? Mayhap Sir Charles had been deliberately vague in the letter so as not to alert her that he knew. If Jeffree were to demand she prove her innocence, what could she say?

Guilt would likely show plainly in her countenance, and then all love would die in his bosom. Love. She pondered the word a moment. Did she believe that Jeffree truly loved her? She thought so, in his own peculiar, grudging manner. Would that fledgling love prove durable though, in the face of such a betrayal? She did not know.

She was uncomfortably aware that if he had acted thus over one of her family members, she would be very angry indeed. She would consider it a betrayal for someone to speak to your face of love whilst knowing some wrong was being done to your kin. Then again, an inner voice pointed out, Leland Ellis was not beloved of Jeffree. They had been raised together but were not close.

It did not matter, she argued back. They had practically been raised as brothers. Most brothers fought. It did not mean they would tolerate outsiders doing them wrong. She spent an uncomfortable day’s reflection and was almost relieved when night fell, and they arrived at their first inn.

Despite being morose and taciturn at supper, in the privacy of their bedchamber he sought her out at once and she gladly gave him what he wanted.

“You are a disgusting, selfish, arrogant, pompous, loathsome toad.” Sabina punctuated each failing with a kiss to his lips. Jeffree lay still beneath her, his hand shifting over her lower back, accepting her accusations without question, receiving her kisses with every evidence of pleasure. By the end of her litany, he was no longer passive. The fact she drew her head back incited a growl of displeasure. He rolled her under him, pinning her hands beside her head.

“You’re wrong, Sabina,” he said huskily. “I am your disgusting, selfish, arrogant, pompous, loathsome toad.”

She gave a breathless laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” And he captured her lips again, this time in a long, drugging kiss. When he drew back, she could see his eyes gleaming even in the dark.

“Say it right,” he insisted, his hands roaming over her full bosom, stroking and lightly pinching her there. “Say it right and you can have my tongue.”

“I can have your tongue whenever I want it,” she pointed out, trying for his own arrogant tone.

“So bold,” Jeffree replied with a groan. His head fell forward and nuzzled her neck. To Sabina’s shock, his tone was almost approving. “Spoken like a true De Crecy,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw. “Tell me then, wife. Tell me that you want it.”