Page 48 of An Inconvenient Vow

“A day’s ride.”

“Oh.” When nothing else was forthcoming, she prompted, “You have an acquaintance there?” He reddened at her question, piquing her curiosity.

“It is the holy order we spoke of yesterday,” he answered, glancing away.

Sabina gazed back at him blankly, for it took a moment for her to comprehend. “You mean… the holy order your former betrothed joined?” she asked slowly.

“Yes.”

“Why would you want to go there?” she asked, rather louder than she had intended.

“I would have thought it would be obvious. I need to be released from my vow,” he answered, practically grinding his teeth.

“You need to be—?” Sabina repeated before sucking in her breath and staring at him with a heavy frown. “Is it not rather late for that? You have already wed another, Sir Jeffree,” she pointed out. “I think you will find you have already broken your promise.”

“Not quite,” he answered with meaning, and Sabina flushed.

She took a step toward him and lowered her voice. “I assure you I am perfectly content for you to keep your vow privately if that is what we are speaking of.”

“Well, I am not content!” he flung at her. “Far from it.”

Sabina’s mouth fell open. “You aren’t? Since when?” she spluttered.

“Since we… started sharing a bed together,” he answered frustratedly and stepped in so close they were practically touching.

“But this will not be a long-term situation,” she pointed out, trying to sound reasonable. Instead, to her annoyance, she sounded merely short of breath. Sabina tried to take a step back but came up against the tree trunk. “Once we have concluded this excursion to Areley Kings—”

“Who says it is not?” Jeffree interrupted her rudely, showing no sign of retreat.

Sabina swallowed. “Well, surely you will be back competing in your tournaments by then?” she hazarded. “Traveling from one place to another, whereas I will be back at Morecotte.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “What of it? Do you imagine I am the only married knight in Karadok?”

Sabina’s mind flailed around. “Well… no,” she admitted.

“Several of them manage to maintain a household and to travel the tournaments.”

Maintain a household? “Do you…? Is it possible you mean to make Morecotte your… your home too?” Sabina stammered, aghast.

“Where else?”

She gazed up at him, completely lost for words.

“Are you two kissing?” asked a disapproving voice, making them both jump. Jeffree took a step back and Sabina found she could finally catch her breath. She sagged against the tree trunk feeling wrung out by the encounter.

“What do you want, Crispin?” Jeffree asked his younger brother irritably. Not even slightly daunted, Crispin drew closer and started twittering on about what poor specimens the trees in this neighborhood were and how much taller they were in their own neck of the woods.

Sabina scarcely took in the child’s words, so scattered were her own wits as she tottered her way back to her horse. Jeffree wanted to make their marriage a real functioning marriage. She could not quite wrap her head around the fact. Why in the name of all that was holy? She knew full well he had been as horrified by the necessity of their marriage as she.

Why then now had he suddenly decided she was worthy of the role in deed as well as in name? The only nice thing he had ever said to her was concerning her horsemanship, she reflected in disbelief. Was that enough to make one worthy of the dubious honor in his eyes?

By the time she had reached Blitha, Jeffree had once more appeared at her side. He lifted her up into the saddle, his hands lingering at her waist for a moment longer than she felt was strictly necessary. Sabina felt unaccustomedly flustered by the time he backed away, his eyes still on her till the last minute when he swung around to climb his own horse.

He could not possibly be in earnest about this, could he? His heated gaze disconcerted her. He had wanted things different since they had shared a bed, he’d said. Which was odd as Miles had always complained she was an awful bedfellow, hogging the sheets and even snoring on occasion.

She and Jeffree had only shared a bed twice. The first time, admittedly, there had been a couple of embarrassing mishaps. Her cheeks burned as she remembered the indignity of falling on top of him. Last night, though, had passed without event. She shifted in her saddle, remembering how she had woken wrapped in his arms, her cheek resting against the blond hair of his chest. Mercifully, he had been unaware, as she had managed to disentangle herself before he awoke.

As for his arousal, it was her understanding that men were often in that state first thing in the morning. As such, it meant nothing. Nothing at all.