Page 22 of An Inconvenient Vow

“I said hold still, damn you!”

Sabina blinked at the note of panic in his voice. Why was he so alarmed? It was not as though she would inflict an injury on his much larger body, she thought, unless she inadvertently kneed him in the ballocks. But as a matter of fact, neither of her knees were in contact with any part of Sir Jeffree right now, because they were splayed on either side of his muscular thigh. That was when she felt it, against her hip. Oh. For a moment she had thought it was his hand grazing her there. But she knew where his hands were; they were gripping her so tightly. That left only one possibility.

Dragging in a shocked breath, Sabina gazed down blankly into the darkness and felt his hot breath on her face. So, she thought dazedly, it was disinclination rather than inability that had kept Sir Jeffree chaste. His hands slid up her sides until they were under her arms, and very carefully, he lifted her off his body and deposited her on the bed beside him.

Sabina collapsed onto her back and lay there, feeling winded. “Sorry,” she croaked, her mouth suddenly dry. “That was clumsy of me.”

He made no reply, but she could hear his harsh, uneven breathing clearly enough. The awkwardness of their situation had become a hundred times worse! Squeezing her eyes shut, Sabina strove to catch her own breath. Her mind was reeling.

Of course, it meant nothing, she reassured herself. Men were sadly indiscriminate when it came to such things. Marriage to Miles had taught her that much. Then again, Sir Jeffree was apparently celibate. Maybe that was why he had been so… easily inflamed. She turned her head as though to seek out his face. A pointless exercise, as it was so dark in the room.

Well, she had apologized, and he had not responded. Sabina thought it permissible for her to lapse into silence now. She lay there a while like a stunned fish, disbelieving that her life had come to this. That this man, lying in the dark beside her, was in truth and fact her husband. After a time, she rearranged the bedclothes to make sure every last bit of her was covered, and exhausted, fell fast asleep.

When next she woke, she found herself surrounded by muscular male. For a moment, she hovered in that space between waking and dreaming. She frowned. This was not right. Even in the early days of her marriage, she and Miles had not lain like this. Both had preferred their own side of the bed and their own space.

Not only could she feel the press of a body, much larger than any she had known, up against her back, but there was a brawny arm slung about her waist, holding her firmly in place, with—was that a thigh? Wedged against her hip? Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, blinking at the shaft of morning light coming through her casement window.

Sabina glanced down at the arm wound snugly about her waist and swallowed. There was no escaping the fact that she was being tightly embraced by a sleeping Sir Jeffree de Crecy. She cast a slow glance over her side and spotted his knee and bent leg. She was not even sure if embraced was the right word, considering how indecently he was covering her backside!

He will be mortified when he awakes, she thought and felt a little guilty about the fleeting satisfaction she derived from that. It was purely because of his own disgusting superiority. By day he might find her entirely beneath his notice, but by night, apparently, he wanted nothing more than to find her beneath him!

She had the grace to blush at her own indelicacy of thought, but after all, he was insufferable, and she was only human. There would be precious few opportunities for her to gain the upper hand over Sir Jeffree, but apparently, while his thinking mind slept, his body liked her well enough to seek her out, despite her flaws.

She would not be flattered, for men were base creatures and doubtless his own self-inflicted privations were at least partly to blame. She still found it hard to believe that he practiced abstinence, but he was a strange man all around. Otherwise, why would he be so often seen abroad in the company of that human icicle, Sir Charles Ellis?

It was not often she had seen him about the county of course. Sabina’s path had not often crossed that of the illustrious inhabitants of Ganford Chase until her sister had caught the eye of the duke, that is. But when she had caught fleeting glimpses of Sir Jeffree, or he had been excitedly pointed out to her, he had been with the flinty-eyed Sir Charles. Remembering the look of scalding revulsion the older man had directed at her the previous day, she winced.

If she were a man of Jeffree’s fortune and privilege she would certainly find more congenial company than that to while away the time with. It was a mystery to her, like the rest of him, she thought with a shrug. The arm about her waist tightened a moment and Sabina went very still. After a moment, he relaxed again, and Sabina breathed out with relief.

Should she try and extricate herself? She squinted at the window again, debating the hour, when a sudden knock at the door startled her. She and Sir Jeffree flinched as one. Sabina lifted her head as the door creaked open and Hildeth poked her head around it.

“Hildeth?” she quavered uncertainly, feeling Sir Jeffree freeze behind her.

“Your mother bade me bring hot water to your room, on account of your guest,” the servant responded promptly. “Only I didn’t want to walk in and catch you unawares.” She cast a jaundiced eye over their entwined bodies. “I knows what newlyweds is like.”

Sabina felt herself turn red as Jeffree snatched back his arm and rolled onto his back, putting some distance between them. Hildeth snorted and bustled in with the ewer. “I wasn’t born yesterday!” she added for good measure, setting the jug down with a thud.

“Thank you.”

The servant disappeared through the door and Sabina coughed. “Will you wash first, or shall I?” A heavy silence greeted her words and it seemed Jeffree was at a loss how to answer. “I apologize that I have no dressing room for one of us to retreat to for modesty’s sake.”

He cleared his throat. “I will turn my back. You go first.” He rolled onto his side, facing away from her, and Sabina almost leaped from the bed in her hurry to escape any awkwardness. She rushed her wash and dressed in such haste that she did not even rebraid her plaits. Instead, she simply wrapped them around her ears for a second day and pinned them into place before donning her wimple.

It was slovenly, and far from her usual practice, but Sabina felt horribly aware of Jeffree’s presence in her bedchamber. He surely begrudged every minute, she told herself as she tightened the laces in her bodice. “I will see you below stairs,” she said, still red-faced as she whisked herself out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

She waited a moment with her back to the door, her eyes shut fast, collecting herself before venturing below. She took the stairs at a slow, plodding step, to give herself time to collect herself. By some ill timing, her family drifted out of various rooms to watch her descend.

“Of all the gowns to choose, Sabina,” her mother commented critically. “You would choose that one!”

Sabina glanced down in surprise. In truth, she had just grasped the first she could reach from her cupboard.

“All Sabina’s gowns are shabby,” Isemay pointed out in defense of her sister. “I have remarked on it before, and you said it did not signify what she wore now she was a widow.”

Their mother bridled. “Well, and so it did not! But she is not a widow anymore. She is the wife of a knight of renown from one of the foremost families in the land. It is not fitting that she should trail around looking so shabby.”

“It is to be hoped that her new husband can bear the expense of clothing her adequately,” their father put in hopefully. “As the expense of Isemay’s bride clothes have well-nigh left my coffers empty for this month.”

“Bear the expense?” his wife echoed. “To be sure he can! Why I have heard tell—”