Page 25 of An Inconvenient Vow

“To make matters perfectly legal.”

“You mean, as Hendry did?” he asked sarcastically.

“Well…”

“Possession is eleven points in the law,” he said briefly.

Sabina’s eyebrows snapped together. “You mean for us to take possession of Morecotte now?” she asked shrilly. “But we—we have no men with us to—to—”

“You have me,” he said simply. “I am the only man you have need of.”

Her mouth was still hanging open as he passed out of the door. Sabina tore upstairs and packed in a hurry, and truth be told, she did not have much by way of personal possessions. Isemay helped her carry her things down the staircase, though she was far too distracted to answer most of her sister’s chatter.

“But what will you do once you get there, sister?” Isemay asked as they walked out to where Sir Jeffree was waiting with his huge destrier.

“I hardly know,” Sabina admitted, before raising her voice. “I have no horse of my own,” she warned her husband as she passed him the first of the bags to strap to the horse’s back.

He barely paused. “Then I must have you up before me,” he answered with a shrug. “I daresay Radax can bear the additional weight.”

“Not the most chivalrous way of putting it,” Isemay murmured as she passed her bag to Sabina. Fortunately, their mother hurried out, preventing Sabina from having to reply.

“Do make sure you give our regards to His Grace, the Duke of Bethencourt,” Thora Burrell gushed. “I hope he did not miss you at his table too much last night.”

Sabina ventured a glance at Sir Jeffree’s face and looked quickly away. “Thank you, Mother,” she said hurriedly before he could snub her parent.

Sir Jeffree led his horse to the mounting block, and by an undignified combination of leaping and scrambling, Sabina managed to get onto the massive charger’s broad back. Jeffree joined her moments later, making it look effortless, and Sabina steeled herself not to cringe away from his solid bulk surrounding her. For a moment, it brought vivid memories of waking that morn with his body wrapped around hers. She managed a brief wave at her mother and Isemay, and they were off.

8

Neither of them spoke until Tipton Hall was out of sight, and then Jeffree cleared his throat. “You will have to instruct me,” he said. “For I have no idea in which direction this Morecotte lies.”

Sabina was startled. She swiveled about in the saddle to look at him. “Are you truly in earnest about making for it now? And taking matters into your own hands?” she demanded.

“I see no reason for delay.”

Sabina was so astonished by this assertion that for a moment she had no words. “Sir Jeffree,” she expostulated. “This is reckless. This is ill-thought-out. I had not thought you so impetuous of nature.”

“You are only just getting to know me,” he pointed out dryly.

Which was true enough, Sabina acknowledged, but somewhere along the line, she had gained the impression he was stuffy and would be careful always to observe the laws and legalities of the land. Erroneously, it now turned out, for scanning his face, she could see no sign of wariness. He was completely calm about whatever opposition he would face at Morecotte.

She bit her lip. “I do not know what manner of staff Alfred Hendry is maintaining,” she said urgently. “He keeps low company, and I would not be surprised if he retains some villainous servants to do his bidding. No decent ones would have remained on in such a man’s service.” He made no response to this. “What will we do if—?”

“How about you let me worry about how we deal with Hendry?” he suggested.

“But you don’t look remotely worried, Sir Jeffree; that is what is bothering me!”

He gave a short laugh, at which she turned her head to stare at him. “I know how to deal with men of his ilk,” he said grimly.

Sabina felt her face grow warm and turned to face forward. You have me, he had said. I am the only man you have need of. The astonishing words were still ringing in her ears. It would be foolish to set any store in them, she told herself. This was sure to end in disaster!

She was still convinced of the fact when they started down the dirt track that led toward her old home. It had not been maintained and tall weeds were now choking up the lane. Not that it bothered Sir Jeffree’s large destrier, who simply trampled them beneath his huge hooves, but it did make Sabina wonder about tradesmen’s carts. Was Morecotte no longer on anyone’s rounds? The place was too small to support a staff of more than five or so servants. Certainly not enough to produce all the provisions a functioning household would require.

When the house came into view, she felt the customary swell of affection and longing for the place. Curious how it did not seem in any way tainted with her bitter memories of Miles. It did make a beautiful picture surrounded as it was by blossoming trees and flowering hedgerows, even if they had been allowed to encroach upon the house.

Jeffree made no sound of appreciation at the pretty picture Morecotte made, and Sabina tensed as he dismounted and tied his horse to a convenient tree. “You stay here,” he ordered.

Sabina, still sat upon his steed, bristled. “But—”