Page 10 of An Inconvenient Vow

Isemay pressed her lips together. “I do not,” she said firmly.

“Is the duke—?”

“I sent Father to speak to him and explain that he means to take me home forthwith.” Isemay cast a darkling look over her shoulder. “I can hardly be expected to remain amidst such company where I have been so vilely slandered and abused.”

Their mother let out another low moan. Sabina’s head reeled. Isemay returning home with their parents, and she left behind a new bride? “Isemay—” she started urgently.

“Will you be ready?” her sister continued. “Father will not be many more minutes. The duke has very delicate sensibilities. He will understand why we will not tarry.”

Sabina stared at her in abject misery. “Did Father not tell you?” she asked despairingly.

The color drained out of Isemay’s face. “What?” she gasped. “Oh, tell me quickly! They do not mean to punish you?” Blindly she reached for Sabina, who caught her hands in a firm grip.

“No, no,” Sabina said swiftly. “Nothing like that. I am to be spared.” She licked her lips which were suddenly dry. “’Tis only that… We were forced to take rather… drastic measures.”

“Drastic measures?” Isemay repeated faintly. “What can you mean, sister?”

“I… That is… Sir Jeffree de Crecy hath been forced to marry me,” Sabina managed to croak at last.

“What?” their mother squawked at once, bouncing up from her seat. “Married?”

“Shhhh! Keep your voice down, Mother,” Sabina begged. “They will hear us in the Great Hall.”

“I do not care if they hear me as far as Kilmarton town!” their mother retorted with spirit, advancing on Sabina and grasping hold of her other hand. “Is this true, Sabina? Are you indeed the wife of this man, the duke’s nephew?” Her puffy eyes fixed anxiously on her eldest daughter’s face and Sabina relented.

“Yes, Mother,” she admitted bleakly. “We just exchanged vows in full view of the priest, and the court representatives acted as witnesses.”

Her mother’s plump fingers squeezed her own so tight that Sabina winced. “Then he’s bound right and tight. Oh, saints be praised!” Thora Burrell moaned. “I never doubted your father for an instant. Doubtless he threatened to punish the villain! Seducing my poor daughter and under our own roof too, the knave!”

Sabina closed her eyes briefly. Isemay sank into the chair her mother had abandoned with a horror-stricken expression on her lovely face. “Oh, Sabina, no!” she uttered faintly.

“Now is not the time for such die-away airs, Isemay!” their mother scolded her youngest daughter roundly. “Sabina has done the right thing. Men—they’re all the same!” Thora Burrell’s bosom heaved. “But he won’t get away with it! Not this time!” She nodded fiercely. “He can pay the fiddler for playing his tune!” Abstractedly, she patted Sabina’s arm. “Well done, daughter,” she murmured sagely. “Very well done. I am glad to see you behaving sensibly for once.”

“Mother!” Isemay reproached her. “How can you say so? Does not everyone in the county agree that Sir Jeffree is the most arrogant and vainglorious man in all Karadok?”

“Oh, hush now! Fie! ‘Tis foolishness to dwell on such things now that circumstances have changed! He is rich, handsome, and well-connected.” Thora Burrell recited the only virtues she knew of her son-in-law and straightened the bodice of her gown. “Those are not things to turn your nose up at. Where can your father be?” she tutted. “I shall need to visit with your Aunt Mabel before nightfall.”

“Visit with our aunt?” Isemay’s face fell as she and Sabina exchanged looks. “Mother, we hardly want gossip of this day to spread!” Aunt Mabel had a livelier tongue even than their mother.

“Nonsense!” their mother preened. “Sabina is married, of course, I must tell my sister!”

Isemay opened her mouth again, but Sabina caught her eye and shook her head. After all, the visiting nobles might not spread word in the vicinity for none of them were local, but certainly, there had been servants drifting in and out of the hall. They would soon carry the news to their relatives in the village and to the patrons of The Blue Boar. Perhaps, after all, it might not be the worst thing for Aunt Mabel to spread a less salacious version of events.

A look of horror dawned on Isemay’s face. “They will let you return home with us, will they not? They surely do not mean for you to remain here?”

“Stupid child!” Their mother rounded on Isemay. “Where else is a wife’s place, but at her husband’s side! You surely do not expect Sabina to abandon a second husband?” she said pointedly. Sabina’s face flamed red.

It was at this point that there was a faint knock on the door and two men appeared outlined in it. One the small, slightly rotund figure of her father and the other the tall, imposing figure of her new husband. Sabina’s heart sank all the way down to her somewhat worn slippers.

“Thora, Isemay,” her father said, rocking back on his heels. “His Grace has kindly condescended to send us home in one of his conveyances. We must take our leave of Sabina now.” Sir Jeffree stood stony silent beside him, saying not a word.

Thora Burrell glanced fleetingly at her new son-in-law, then seemed to decide against whatever she had been considering saying. Instead, she hurried to Sabina and clasped her in her arms. “Do not lose heart now,” she murmured beneath her breath. “Not when you have him where you want him!”

Sabina could not withstand the grimace that passed over her face. Clearly, against all odds, her mother now saw her in the light of some intrepid husband-catcher. “Do not worry, Mother,” she managed to reply as they drew apart.

Then she found herself fiercely hugged by Isemay. “We will think of some way out of this mess!” her sister whispered. “Just… do not consummate the vows!”

Sabina cast a quick glance over her shoulder at Sir Jeffree. Somehow, she did not think bedding her was uppermost on his mind. He looked more likely to fling her in a ditch! “Do not worry,” she repeated numbly. “All will be well.”