Page 53 of An Inconvenient Vow

“Most knights would surely prefer a pot of gold!” his brother agreed.

“As to that,” Sabina cut in darkly, “I am sure the princess would have infinitely preferred it also. That and her liberty.”

Sir Dudley shook his head. “It’s a difficult situation for the King,” he said sucking in his cheeks. “Whether a willing pawn or not, she remains a rallying point for the northern rebels and as such constitutes a problem for King Wymer.”

“Well, I had no taste for such a bride,” Jeffree said, wishing to bring the subject to a close. Politics as a subject was fraught with difficulty, and though his stepfather was a cautious man, he did not think Sabina would hold back on expressing her own opinions. Seeing the expressions on everyone’s faces though, he seemed to have blundered anyway. An air of awkward constraint hovered over the party. “What did I say?” he demanded, glancing around.

“Hugo also told me that the King’s current favorite has been awarded his mother’s estate at Carterhaine. Apparently, she has been retired there for her lying in,” said Lady Maud, sotto-voce.

Jeffree, who disapproved of royal gossip, frowned. It was not like his mother to be so indiscreet. His stepfather cleared his throat and directed a pointed look at the cart where the boys were sat. Sabina said nothing at all. She dropped back and was seemingly suddenly occupied in patting Blitha’s neck and murmuring to her soothingly. Jeffree felt annoyed. He had intended no slight to her and it irritated him that everyone plainly thought he had been tactless.

He steered his horse until it was abreast of her own. “Tired?” he asked awkwardly.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Why so quiet, then?”

“I do not have any palace gossip to contribute,” she answered lightly. “We do not hear much of court in Little Ganford.” She hesitated. “Your cousin Hugo is a courtier?”

Jeffree’s lip curled. “He is, yes.”

“You do not approve?”

“He is a frivolous fellow with little to recommend him.”

“Your mother seemed to find him entertaining enough.”

“Even the best of women have failings.” Sabina pursed her lips. “You disagree?” he pressed, though he was not sure why.

“I do not think that is only true of women, Sir Jeffree,” she retorted heavily.

“I never claimed it was.”

She turned in her saddle to direct a stare at him. “And what would say is your own besetting sin?” she asked. “If it is not a propensity for gossip?”

“You think me a gossip?” he demanded incredulously.

“You have certainly turned your ear toward it at some time,” she muttered, bringing him up short. Well, that was true in any event. Osborn had told him she was known locally for a shrew. He had thoughtlessly repeated as much the morning after they were married.

“I have already apologized for that,” he pointed out.

“Have you?” She sounded surprised. “When?”

Jeffree thought about it. “Well, if I did not precisely apologize, then I showed by my actions that I regretted it.” Again, she looked blank. “When I came and fetched you back from your parents’ house,” he elaborated.

“That was in lieu of an apology, was it?” she asked. “I had not realized.”

Jeffree regarded her moodily. “After you explained the true state of affairs to me, I realized that I had believed a falsehood.” He struggled a moment to put what he wanted to say into words. “When I said—what I said last night—it stemmed from that realization.”

“I see.”

The coolness of her tone was not lost on him. “You want the words, then? I am not too proud to say them if that is what you think.” When she said nothing, he leaned forward in his saddle. “Sabina?”

Her eyes flew to meet his. “I do not need them,” she said quickly.

Too quickly. He gazed at her in exasperation. “I want to move past this… these… preconceived notions we had of one another,” he said stiffly. “But in order to do that, both of us need to show willing.”

To his surprise, a flush mounted her cheeks. “I am not sure I am ready yet,” she admitted with surprising frankness. “And I do not believe you can be either.”