Page 84 of An Inconvenient Vow

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sabina answered briskly and took a swig of water.

“You look solemn.”

“Don’t I always?”

“No,” he answered promptly. “Not usually.”

“You have not known me very long,” she pointed out, lowering the waterskin with a frown. He gave a shrug but did not deign to argue with her. For some reason, this made her feel even worse. “Would you say you tire of people rather quickly as a rule?” she asked impulsively, passing back the waterskin.

“People?”

“You know.” She shrugged. “Family, friends, acquaintances.”

“I tire of my family all the time,” he answered sounding unconcerned.

“Yes but…” She fidgeted where she sat. “Well, I suppose family is not really the same,” she muttered half to herself. When she looked up, Jeffree was eyeing her curiously.

“The same as what?”

“Who would you say is your closest friend in all the world, Jeffree?”

His brows lowered, and he seemed rather puzzled by the question. “I don’t think I have one,” he admitted at last, gazing into the distance. “Who would you say is yours?”

His turning the question back on her was surprising. “My sister,” she answered absently.

He nodded. “What is the age difference between the two of you?”

Again, his curiosity startled her. “I was six when Isemay was born.”

“And where is it that you get your brains from?” he asked, as though he had been puzzling over the question.

“What do you mean?”

“Clearly, you do not follow your parents in that regard.” Sabina spluttered, but before she could take umbrage, he added, “Neither you nor your sister lack for wits.”

Deciding to overlook the insult to her parents, Sabina turned her head to regard him thoughtfully. “What was your father like?” she asked. “Was he like you?”

Jeffree’s shoulders rose and fell. “I do not know,” he admitted. “I have no memory of him.”

“I wonder if he was a hothead like you,” she mused. “Your aloof manner you could have learned from your mother, or Sir Charles I suppose, but that hot temper…”

“I don’t have a hot temper.” He sounded annoyed.

“Oh yes you do, Jeffree de Crecy! A hot temper and a hot, lusty nature.”

He snorted. “You taught me that,” he growled. “I did not have that before you.”

“I expect you did. I just uncovered it.” Noticing the look in his eye, Sabina clamped her mouth shut. Somehow, she had gone haring off down a completely different track than the one she had intended. She cleared her throat. “Well, that’s neither here nor there,” she said, rising swiftly to her feet. “It looks like Osborn has finished watering the horses.”

For one minute, she thought it was touch and go if he would pounce on her with scant regard for their surroundings. Hurrying down the bank, she did not dare to look back over her shoulder though she could hear him moving behind her. Sailing past Osborn, she made straight for Blitha and soothed herself more than the horse by stroking her velvety nose. Footsteps followed close behind, so she was not surprised when she heard Jeffree’s growl in her ear.

“Why are you running away from me?”

“I am not.”

“That is what it looked from where I was standing.” She turned her head to frown at him and dart her eyes meaningfully toward where Osborn stood nearby. Jeffree’s eyebrows rose.

“Shall we reach Morecotte before ere long taking this route?” she asked loudly.