Page 60 of An Inconvenient Vow

“Yes?” she replied cautiously.

“I want you to carry on to Longacre with the Vyses and give this tournament a miss.”

Sabina gasped, turning in her saddle to stare at him. “What? But why?” she demanded, as though attending one of his miserable tournaments was the dearest wish of her heart!

He was silent a moment, and Sabina noticed his ears turning red. “I would have thought it obvious,” he answered grudgingly. “Sharing a bed with you, before I’ve been absolved of my vow, is not a good idea any longer.” Sabina opened her mouth to say she was perfectly fine with separate beds when he added gruffly, “I’m struggling. Why do you suppose I left our bed at the crack of dawn the last two days?”

“We could have slept in separate beds last night without anyone raising an eyebrow!” she pointed out. “You were the one who insisted we shared.”

Jeffree’s jaw worked a moment. “I don’t like being separated from you. This will be hard on me. Can you not try and be a little understanding?”

Sabina’s mouth snapped shut with astonishment. He was struggling? He did not like being separated from her? He wanted her understanding? She shifted in her saddle as she took this in.

“Besides,” he added with a return to his usual arrogance, “having thought about it I have already fulfilled all but two of the terms of courtship you spoke of last night. I can complete my tournament, fetch you from Longacre, and journey to Fulford Abbey with a clear conscience.”

Sabina drew in a sharp breath and turned to give him her full attention. What was he about now? “How ever did you come to that conclusion?” she asked stunned.

“I have paid you a compliment; you agree on that score.”

Sabina pulled a face. “Aye, you paid me a compliment of such rarity I doubt any woman has heard its like before.”

He ignored her sardonic tone, lowering his voice. “When I did not contradict your outrageous claims in my uncle’s Great Hall, that could be taken as a public acknowledgment of my admiration,” he continued.

Sabina gasped at this brazenness. “It was no such thing!” she protested.

“I allowed everyone to think I had been sneaking around and climbing through windows to receive your favors,” he pointed out coolly. “Rest assured, among my family and acquaintances, that would be taken as extremely aberrant behavior.”

“I am sure it would!” Sabina spluttered. “Such behavior would not necessarily stem from admiration though!” Her irritated expression gave way to one of sudden curiosity. “Out of interest, why was it you did not immediately refute Sir Leland’s claims? Was it really outrage that tied your tongue so tightly?”

She watched the color climb in his cheek. “We have already discussed this,” he said in clipped tones. “I was too shocked to react with speed to what was happening. I readily admit my wits are not as sharp as your own.” From his curled lip, he made her quick wit sound more like an insult.

“Probably from all your years of being a stuffed shirt,” Sabina murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

Other than a swift frown, this too he disregarded with a wave of his hand. “As for the praise to your family, the fact I married you is the highest praise a man can bestow on a woman. Your mother at least seemed sensible of the great honor done to your family.”

Words failing her at this point, Sabina had to console herself by glaring at him in disbelief and clasping the reins so tight in her hands that her palms would likely wear their mark. Perhaps being separated from Jeffree for two whole days would not be such a bad thing. “Have you asked your mother if she is willing to forego the tournament and instead play hostess to me for its duration?” she enquired coldly.

“Not yet. I doubt she will be much disappointed. She has never shown any enthusiasm to see me compete before.”

Sabina, remembering Lady Maud’s true objective in attending the tournament, felt her heart sink. She had not yet secured Jeffree’s word that he would train his brothers for squirehood. How was she supposed to bring that about now? She glanced over to the cart where the boys were once more intertwined with the dogs.

“It seems almost a shame they must be parted,” Sabina murmured.

Jeffree followed her gaze and huffed. “Do you have any idea how much money I spent reclaiming those dogs for you?” he demanded testily.

“No,” she admitted, “though I suspect it was a good deal. They are beautiful dogs. It’s just… I feel they do belong with the boys.” As soon as she had said it aloud, she realized it was true. Taking a deep breath, Sabina took a reckless plunge. “What if we were to gift the dogs to your brothers and I took the gesture in lieu of your show of public admiration?” she suggested, avoiding his eye.

“Say that again?”

“Then, if you were to agree to take both boys as your squires within the next twelve months or so, the dogs would be residing with us for the most part in any case.”

Jeffree made a choked sound. “I will agree to no such thing! Take the pair of them as squires? I have never wanted one squire, let alone two! As for my brothers…” Words seemed to fail him.

“I think it is the least you can do,” Sabina answered truthfully. “They are your close kin, and Crispin is clearly unsuited for the priesthood, whatever Sir Dudley may think.”

Jeffree spluttered. “They are still too young to leave home anyway. Crispin is practically an infant!” he objected. “And in any case, Osborn sees to my needs adequately. I have never felt the need of a squire.”

Sabina glanced toward his manservant, Osborn, who was sat in his saddle like a sack of turnips. Thus far she had not been terribly impressed with Osborn. To her mind, he had a shifty eye and a disobliging manner. “Is not the training of a squire seen as a noble duty?” she persisted. “The passing on the mantle of knighthood to another generation? I would have thought you would have leaped at the chance.”