Page 43 of An Inconvenient Vow

Jeffree’s lips pressed firmly together, and her conviction grew. “You were!” she blurted in astonishment. “Did the lady die?”

“No, no, nothing as melodramatic as that!” Jeffree snapped. After a moment, he added with reluctance, “She was the one who took holy orders.”

Sabina blinked. “Rather than marry you?” she asked, rather tactlessly.

He huffed. “She felt a calling,” he said stiffly, “to another life.”

Sabina felt her mouth fall open and closed it quickly again. Good grief! The woman really had chosen a convent over marrying Jeffree de Crecy! “I—I see,” she stammered, struggling to hide her reaction.

“The lady was a noble and honorable woman who felt duty-bound to take the veil,” he said stiffly. “She was not the type of woman to shirk her duty, or the power of her convictions, however inconvenient they might be to her family and friends.”

Inconvenient? Sabina stared at him. “You were acquaintances of long-standing?” she asked finally, unable to stem her curiosity.

Jeffree gave a short nod. “Since we were thirteen or thereabouts. Her family’s lands bordered my guardian’s.”

“Sir Charles Ellis, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“And he arranged the match?”

“On my fifteenth birthday.”

“And three years later, she broke it to enter a convent?”

He gave another nod.

“That must have been a blow.” He said nothing to this, but the pinched expression on his face made speech unnecessary. “How very inconvenient of her god,” she added. “Which one was it by the way?”

Sir Jeffree’s eyebrows snapped together. He regarded her a moment with deep suspicion, as though she were making a May game of him. “Goddess of the hearth,” he said at last. “She bore a local name for her in Sutton, Meliora,” he added tonelessly. “As though her parents devoted her from birth. Doubtless, that is how she saw it.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I just thought it would be more fitting if it had been one of those fierce, virginal ones that scorned marriage,” she answered truthfully.

Jeffree made a spluttering sound. “Do you always speak aloud your every thought, however wildly inappropriate?”

Sabina shook her head. “I apologize if I was inappropriate. You must forgive me; I am not used to moving in such exalted circles.” Again, he turned his head to regard her narrowly. “After all,” she added cheerfully, “if you are so determined to drag me around Karadok with you, you should be prepared. I am not some grand lady used to behaving with the utmost decorum.”

“So, that is it, is it? You mean to disquiet me with your provincial frankness?” He gave a short laugh. “You will not so easily embarrass me, for all you think I am so staid.”

He sounded so supremely confident in this, that she turned her head to look at him. A moment of doubt crept in. It was true that Sir Jeffree was perhaps not quite as stuffy and proper as she had first thought. The water trough popped back into her mind, reminding her that he did not shy away from rough and ready methods once in a while.

Still, she had brought vivid color to his cheeks that day already several times with very little conscious effort, whether from embarrassment or annoyance. If she truly meant to show him up, she did not think she could fail to do so. Not with his notions of how a wife should conduct herself.

No doubt this Lady Meliora was some perfect paragon of womanhood, and once she had made herself unavailable, the youthful Jeffree had decided in his disappointment, that no one would ever meet his high and mighty standards. It must have been a crushing blow to find himself now married to the likes of her, Sabina reflected without rancor. She had few illusions about her own merits.

Stealing a sideways glance at him now, she thought there could be worse stratagems than giving herself free rein to thoroughly irritate Jeffree de Crecy on this trip to Areley Kings. It seemed to come naturally to her, after all. That way she would avoid being compelled to attend any more of these plaguey tournaments in future.

Sabina’s spirits rose. Perhaps this trip was a providential opportunity after all.

11

They reached the start of Kilmarton pass at about six that evening. The boys were bored and irritable and the dogs panting hard. Jeffree dismounted briefly to lift the dogs into the back of the cart. His brothers instantly brightened, having Feste and Brisis to fuss over.

Sir Dudley dismounted and joined him as Hadley started handing around the waterskins. “Do you think we will reach the inn at the other side by nightfall?” he addressed Jeffree, looking up anxiously at the pink and red sky.