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“You underestimate him, sir.”
The soft-spoken nun was all but gone. His companion had an acid tongue, apparently, and was not afraid to use it.
“Guy. ’Tis unseemly to speak so formally to a man who will be your husband.”
For some reason, Guy wished to goad her.
“Unseemly?”
He smiled into the night. Oh, it was almost too easy to set her off.
“More so than the current situation which I find myself in?”
“When I claim my payment for services rendered, I’d very much enjoy hearing my name from your lips. My given name, that is.”
Her sound of disgust, not unexpected, was followed by silence.
“How could I have thought you honorable?” she muttered. Prompting him to laugh, too loudly.
“I assure you”—he braced himself for a tongue-lashing—“Sabine. I am many things, but no one has ever accused me of being honorable.”
He’d thought she’d respond to that, if only to lambaste him for using her name without permission, but she merely sniffed.
“Will we travel all night?” she asked some time later.
It was only then Guy realized she was likely unused to riding long distances. A damned inconvenience.
“Aye,” he said, ignoring her wiggling in the saddle.
When she failed to voice a complaint, he reluctantly added, “We should arrive at St. Mary’s-upon-Kingsgate well before sunrise.”
“Another abbey?”
He slowed then, turning to his companion.
“We made a bargain, my lady. And I mean to honor it. A priest resides there, too ill to travel but well enough to perform a quick wedding ceremony.”
It struck Guy that they’d stopped moving. He must have given Arion the command to halt without realizing it. Sabine’s grip on his waist slacked as he watched her. Her full lips flattened—she understood what he meant, although he couldn’t tell how she felt about it.
He may be a cad, but he would never shy from his word, once given. And though he hardly knew this vision in a nun’s habit, the very one who’d blackmailed him into their current situation, they would marry that night. He cared little for the idea of her Lord Burge making any claims on her while she remained under his care.
In the meantime . . .
“Wedding ceremony.”
“Aye, my lady. ’Twas a condition of your terms, was it not?”
She lifted her chin. “Sabine.”
“Pardon?”
“Sabine. If we are to be wed, you should continue to call me by my given name.”
He laughed. Hard. As heartily as the time Terric and Conrad took a dunk in a river they’d been crossing, one pulling the other down as he and Lance watched in amusement. This journey may take longer than he’d anticipated, but it would certainly be more enjoyable for her company.
Chapter 7
Who was this man, truly?
