Page 24 of An Inconvenient Vow

“Returned forthwith bearing tidings you were safe and well,” her father answered.

Jeffree grunted and tucked into his plateful. It seemed, after all, that he was not too well-bred to break his fast in the morn, for he made a good meal of it, finishing off the loaf with plenty of butter.

“We had better return this morn,” he said, addressing Sabina at the close of the meal.

“So soon?” Isemay asked, looking up with dismay. Privately, Sabina agreed with the sentiment. She turned to look at him, the same question in her eyes.

“A good deal of my relations will depart today,” he explained grudgingly.

“And is my presence required for that?” she asked, remembering how thoroughly hostile clan De Crecy had been towards her.

“Thora! Isemay!” her father said, drawing back his chair. “Let us leave these two to discuss their leave without our presence impeding them.”

Dragging their feet, her sister and mother complied, though they did not look happy about it. She thought Sir Jeffree offered her father the most infinitesimal of nods as they departed.

Sir Jeffree turned to her as soon as the door closed behind them. “Your presence is of course required,” he said coldly. “It is your duty to present yourself at my side as my wife.”

“Indeed?”

He narrowed his gaze. “If you can behave yourself in a seemly manner, maybe I could be induced to purchase you some new gowns that are fit to be seen in.” His gaze scanned her faded red gown with derision. He must have heard at least part of their conversation.

Sabina squared her shoulders. “I want no gowns for an incentive, Sir Jeffree. I have already told you my desire.” His face turned blank, and he stared at her with an odd expression. “Morecotte,” she reminded him, feeling slightly annoyed it could have slipped his mind so quickly.

“Morecotte?” he repeated, clearly none the wiser.

“My home! The one that Alfred Hendry hath dispossessed me of! I told you of it yesterday.”

“Oh, that.” He made an irritated gesture with his hand. “That is nothing to me.”

“As is politely sending off your relatives, nothing to me!” Sabina countered smartly. When he looked instantly irate, she continued quickly, “You want a wife to conduct herself as you see fit and I want my home. Can we not reach some agreement, Sir Jeffree, where both of us get what we want?”

“Your duty, madam, should dictate that you try to please me in all things.”

Sabina folded her lips, lest her wayward tongue provoke him further. When she had herself in order, she tried again. “Sir Jeffree—”

“Very well!” he cut in, taking the wind out of her sails. “I will look into that other matter.”

“You will?” Sabina caught her breath and scanned his face. He gave a short nod. “As a priority?”

That brought forth a thunderous frown. “I have given you no reason to doubt my word, madam.”

Sabina gazed at him a moment. “That is true enough,” she conceded. “We have struck a bargain then.” His refusal to meet her eye made her uneasy. “Can we not shake hands on it?” she persisted recklessly.

He met her gaze at that, a fire kindling in his eye. “It seems you still think yourself a widow, madam, that must draw up contracts and deals. The fact is you are a married woman who should take your husband’s word as law.”

Only by the greatest effort of will did Sabina manage to choke back her instinctive reply. Jeffree narrowed his eyes at her. “You do not trust my word,” he said. “Very well. How far is Morecotte from here?“

Sabina blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “It is but a twenty-minute ride from here.”

“Well then,” he said standing abruptly from the table. “We will set out in half an hour. Make sure your bags are packed and ready.”

Sabina’s head reeled. “For Morecotte?” she repeated, suddenly breathless. “Or Ganford Chase?”

“Both,” he answered succinctly as he made for the door.

“Wait!” Sabina called after him. “But surely you mean to approach the magistrate first, or attempt some formal route?”

“To what end?”