Page 16 of An Inconvenient Vow

Dismounting, he led his horse to the fence and tethered him there, before vaulting over to join her in the field, approaching her cautiously. He saw her step falter as she noticed him looming on the horizon. Then she drew herself up, doggedly keeping her course straight for Tipton Hall.

“You should have told me if you wanted to collect your things,” he said aloud. “I would have brought you over.” No reply to that, just a more upward tilt of her chin. “And I would have appreciated word of where you were going,” he added doggedly. “I have turned Ganford Chase upside down this morning in search of you.”

That did make her start. She turned on him a look of burning reproach, though when she spoke her words were calm, flippant even. “I am sure your family congratulated you on losing such a shrewish wife so quickly. That is quite a feat. It took my first husband fully a twelvemonth to do so.”

Jeffree bristled. “I did not lose you. You ran off.”

“I thought I would spare you my scolding ways,” she answered after a heartbeat. “Besides, the result is the same. Estrangement. As far as I am concerned, we cannot reach that state fast enough.”

He let out an irritated huff. “We can scarcely be estranged after so short a period of time. You would make us look ridiculous.” To his annoyance, he sounded sulky and sullen. He had no earthly idea why.

Her eye kindled. “I would make us look ridiculous? I was not the one shouting and scowling the day after we were married for all to see and draw their own conclusions! I also did not listen to unfounded gossip and repeat the most hurtful thing I could possibly say, flinging it in your face before you had so much as broken your fast!”

For an instant, Jeffree considered telling her his own character was quite unblemished, but after the previous day, he could no longer claim that with perfect truth. Then too, he could point out she had gone on to create a much bigger scene than he had. Instead, he forced himself to weigh up the best course of action. “I apologize,” he said stiffly.

Sabina blinked. “For what?” she asked after a moment’s silence, narrowing her eyes.

“For… shouting before you had broken your fast,” Jeffree answered with a trace of uncertainty. He could point out that he had not been shouting at her, but she might not consider that a valid point. His mother also detested raised voices and insisted on silence at random times of the day.

“For repeating rumors about your character despite the fact I do not know their veracity,” he added grudgingly. Though what I do know of your personality, I do not like, he added silently. Those honey-colored braids did not count, nor how she filled out her shift.

Sabina expelled her breath, as though he had taken the wind out of her sails. “Thank you,” she said, surprising him again. “I still want to return home though. There can be no point in my remaining at Ganford Chase when my sister did not even marry the duke.”

“You remaining at Ganford Chase has absolutely nothing to do with your sister or my uncle,” he heard himself point out. “You are there, madam, because I am. And I happen to be your husband.”

Sabina’s eyebrows shot back up again, and they stared at one another a moment, as though sizing each other up anew. “Sir Jeffree,” she began in what she clearly thought to be a reasonable tone. “I think we need to have a frank discussion as to how—”

At this point, they were interrupted by a shriek from the direction of the house. “Sabina!”

Jeffree swung around with a murmur of annoyance to find Isemay Burrell heading determinedly toward them, her dark hair loose and her arms full of freshly cut herbs.

“Sister!”

Isemay broke into a run and Jeffree turned back to Sabina. “Do not give your family any false expectations, wife,” he warned.

His words seem to startle her. “What sort of false expectations?”

“Of you returning home any time soon,” he replied tersely.

Isemay Burrell pulled up by the fence and rested her elbows along the top of it. “Is all well, sister?” she called anxiously.

“Perfectly,” Sabina responded, perhaps a little too quickly, for her sister’s perturbed look sharpened. She glanced quickly from her sister’s face to his and then back again.

“You are coming into the house, of course,” Isemay said with a challenging note in her voice.

“Of course,” Sabina assured her. “We—er, wanted to collect some of my things,” she said in what would have been a creditable lie if her sister had not been so observant. As it was, he noticed Isemay’s eyes take in first Sabina’s muddied hem and then his horse tethered nearby. Her sister had not been fooled and clearly believed he had been trying to head Sabina off.

When Sabina walked to the fence, Jeffree seized her waist and lifted her so she could swing her leg over the top. She gave a tiny yelp at the contact, and he nearly begged her pardon. But damn it all, he had every right to touch what was his, he thought, biting back the apology. She scrambled over the top and dropped down beside her sister looking rather flustered.

“Thank you,” she murmured, avoiding his eye. He followed her over and grabbed his horse’s reins as the sisters linked arms and started toward the side of the house. It was only as they walked right the way around that he realized they were leading him to the stables.

To his surprise, despite it being a decent size, no stable hand emerged to take over and they clearly expected him to see to his horse. After leading Radax into a stall large enough to house his destrier, he followed them back to the house where they led him in through a kitchen door.

A plump woman was sat up to the table chopping onions. Sabina greeted her as Isemay plunked down her herbs next to her. The servant cast the sisters only the most cursory of glances as they passed through, but he was subjected to a keen stare which he felt burning into the back of his head as he followed them into the passageway.

The interior of Tipton Hall was surprisingly dark and gloomy, seeming mostly to comprise of passageways and little poky rooms. Isemay placed a finger to her lips as they passed one chamber from which he thought he could hear loud snores emanating.

“Mother is resting!” she murmured and tipped her head significantly that they should carry on to another room. Jeffree’s eyebrows shot up, but he kept his tread light all the same. The room Isemay led them to was filled with dark wood furniture and murky wall-hangings. Barely any light seemed to penetrate the window and he almost tripped over a footstool before righting himself.