Page 104 of An Inconvenient Vow

“Why not?” Jeffree asked coldly.

“Did we meet at Ganford Chase?” Sabina interrupted. “I don’t remember.” It was without a doubt the rudest thing she had ever said in polite company in her life. She cast a sidelong glance at Jeffree as she insulted his cousin, but he did not even flinch.

Hugo, however, was a different matter. He looked instantly affronted. “We did, madam,” he answered stiffly.

“Don’t call her that,” Jeffree shot back. “Only I call her madam.”

Hugo blinked. “Er… my lady,” he corrected himself quickly.

Sabina inclined her head. “One gets introduced to so many people as a newlywed,” she complained. “I can hardly be expected to remember everyone. And you De Crecys are so very prolific.”

Hugo looked stunned. He gaped at her. Jeffree inclined his head and they moved on.

Sabina darted a sidelong glance at him, but to her disappointment, he looked entirely unruffled. This would not do. She had vowed, had she not, to make him regret dragging her to the summer palace. She would have to hit on some new way of annoying him.

A passing servant held up a tray of wine and Sabina accepted a goblet. “You do not drink?” she commented, seeing Jeffree wave the server away.

“I will take ale only this eve to keep a clear head for the morrow.”

“Because of the joust?” Sabina asked and he nodded as they approached a table. It looked perilously close to the raised central dais in Sabina’s opinion, though it currently only housed the King who was lolling on his throne with a bored expression. Jeffree halted next to a bench. “You sit here,” he instructed.

“Could we not find a quieter corner?” Sabina asked, glancing up at the overhead circular chandelier suspended on a chain and illuminated with candles. “One that is not so well lit.”

“No,” Jeffree replied briefly. Catching sight of the look on her face, he added grudgingly, “The tables are allocated by rank. We sit here because it is our right.”

Sabina pulled a face. She might have known the dubious honor was down to being a high and mighty De Crecy! She took a sip of wine and glanced about her. To her surprise, the hall was not packed to the rafters with nobles but instead looked rather sparsely attended. “Why are there not more attendees?” she asked Jeffree who was sitting down next to her.

“It is only competitors who are invited this eve.”

“What about your cousin?” she frowned.

“And the competitors’ families,” he added.

“So then, he attends courtesy of his connection to you?” Jeffree nodded. “Oh.” Despite herself, she found she was interested in the various people grouped about the hall. There was a very elegant lady with black hair in blue satin and accompanied by a man cradling an infant in his large muscular arms.

“Who is that?” Sabina asked.

Jeffree turned his head to follow her gaze. “Sir Roland Vawdrey.” He scowled.

“Oh, is he a prominent competitor of yours? He is very good-looking.” Jeffree’s glower grew more pronounced. “Is that his baby he carries?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, you would know if Sir Roland was usually accompanied by a gaggle of his offspring,” she pointed out.

“I do not think he has been married long enough to produce more than one,” he admitted after a heavy pause.

“Oh.” Sabina’s attention was snared next by a heavily pregnant lady accompanied by a knight with pale, rather cold eyes. “Who is that?” she asked in a low voice, leaning forward.

“Sir Garman Orde,” Jeffree answered, his voice practically vibrating with hostility. “Do you think him good-looking too?”

Sabina thought about this moment before replying. “I would say that strictly speaking, he is more attractive than good-looking. Another of your rivals?” Sabina guessed seeing his irritation. Jeffree did not deign to answer this. “Is that his lady wife beside him?”

“Yes.”

“She looks as though her babe could be born any day now. I wonder that she does not stay at home.”

“Perhaps some wives like to support their spouses when they compete,” Jeffree responded snidely.