Page 139 of An Inconvenient Vow

Sabina caught her breath and held his gaze. “But how should I know that, good sir, for this is our very first meeting, is it not?”

His gaze caught fire before he glanced exaggeratedly around. “But where is your aunt, for I understand she is your chaperone this eve? She is very remiss to leave such a beauty roaming these halls alone.”

Lately, they had been indulging in a very silly game that involved rewriting their history together. It had meant that last time they had stayed at Tipton Hall, Jeffree had been forced to make a most uncomfortable climb up to her old window involving an old apple tree and some ivy.

He had barely made it through the narrow frame in one piece and Sabina had laughed so hard that her mother had rapped on their door demanding an explanation for all the commotion. It had been worth it though after Sabina had consoled him on his scratches and kissed them, every one.

Jeffree had been wonderful in the role, declaring he had been struck with love at first sight of her and promising to marry her the very next day if she “would only take pity on his most ardent love and devotion.” Sabina had not resisted him for long, though she pointed out he was taking gross advantage of her naivety. “For what if someone saw you climbing through yonder window? My reputation will be in tatters.”

“I care not,” he had declared. “I will take full responsibility for ruining you, but I must have you now.” Sabina had sighed and agreed only the flintiest heart would send him back out of such a tiny window.

Of course, the next day he had been very bashful, which for Jeffree meant going about being rather short with everyone and refusing to make eye contact while the tips of his ears glowed red. Still, it had been worth it, and remembering it now, she bit her lip. “Alas,” she sighed. “My aunt has not ventured far and will likely return at any moment.”

“Then let us not squander this opportunity, madam,” he improvised, seizing her hand and raising it to his lips. “Let us fly now together and seek out paradise in each other’s arms.”

Sabina bit back her laugh and fluttered her lashes. “Nay sir, I dare not for I have heard tell of your fearsome reputation.”

His brows snapped together. “My reputation?” her husband echoed, sounding more like his true self than the romantic version.

“Aye, for all of Ganfordshire knows of Jeffree de Crecy’s hot, lusty nature,” Sabina answered serenely.

Jeffree’s face relaxed and he gave a short laugh. “Well, in that case… subterfuge is useless.” He stooped suddenly and Sabina found herself slung over his shoulder as he mounted the stairs.

She gave a squeal of surprise. “Jeffree! What are you doing?”

“I am carrying you upstairs to the bishop’s private chamber, where I shall ravish you within an inch of your life.”

“Well! How shocking! You had certainly better marry me after this. That is all I can say!”

“Marry you?” Jeffree repeated thoughtfully. “Well madam, let us see first how well you can please me. I should warn you, I am not easily impressed.”

Sabina laughed. “Oh, you will marry me alright,” she predicted. “You will be begging me to marry you before this night is over.”

An hour later

They lay breathless in a heap in the middle of Jeffree’s huge bed. Sabina ran her hands through his hair and bumped her cheek against his chest. “Well?” she prompted, lifting her head.

“I love you,” Jeffree said calmly, if a little out of breath still. “Marry me.”

Sabina gave a gurgle of laughter. “Oh, how the mighty are fallen,” she sighed. “I will consider it.”

He tightened his arms around her, squeezing her tight. “If you do not, then I will plague you with repeated avowals of love,” he suggested lazily.

Sabina cocked an eye at him. Playful Jeffree still surprised her a little. She liked that no one else saw this side of him save herself. It was true, Osborn had walked in on Jeffree braiding her hair a couple of times but her husband had been quite unabashed about that. Osborn had been more embarrassed than he. “Oh very well,” she murmured. “I will marry you. Purely to save my family the embarrassment of a lovesick swain loitering about the place.”

“My sweet Sabina,” he whispered, pressing kisses up her shoulder toward her neck, “all that I own is yours.”

Sabina tipped her head back. “Are we still play-acting? Only that last sentiment sounded rather like the real you.”

He considered. “This is me and that is me; they are all me.”

“Hmmm.” She regarded him doubtfully. “I don’t know. I do not think the genuine Jeffree de Crecy would have ravished me in the Bishop of Ganfordshire’s bedchamber.”

He snorted. “If I had known what was good for me, then I would have.” A thoughtful look crept into his eye.

“What?” she asked curiously.

“I wanted to ravish you in that monastery that time,” he admitted. “Or rather, I wanted you to ravish me.”