Page 115 of An Inconvenient Vow

He snorted. “You have not heard the half of it!”

“Tell me, cousin,” she said addressing him airily in the manner he had extended to her. “Have you heard aught of… of what my husband got up to last night?”

Hugo looked gratified by her calling him thus and leaned forward confidingly. “I have not yet been abroad this morn,” he admitted, “but Wilton has been down to the palace kitchens thrice to garner me all the latest news and intrigues.”

Sabina nodded encouragingly. “How enterprising!”

“Apparently, Jeffree went tearing down to the banqueting hall in a war-like mood. He scoured the place in search of retribution but was denied for Lord Kentigern did not attend the celebratory feast. Indeed, if he had been thinking at all clearly, then he would have remembered how rarely Kentigern ever does attend court suppers and such. These northern nobles,” Hugo sighed, “can be so very barbarous in their ways.”

Sabina’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Well, thank goodness for that!” she breathed before another worry assailed her. “Tell me, do the Kentigerns have rooms at the palace?”

Wilton shook his head. “Apparently, Lady Kentigern’s sire bought them a monstrous townhouse in Caer Lyoness.” He looked scandalized as though such a thing was in the worst possible taste, and Sabina wondered at his attitude, for surely a large townhouse must be preferable to such cramped rooms as the courtiers were forced to make do with. It must be a prestige thing, she supposed, for otherwise it scarcely made sense.

“That is good,” she commented slowly, “so we are unlikely to bump into them about the palace.”

“No,” Hugo agreed looking a little regretful about this. “Though,” he said, cheering up a little, “Jeffree may still catch up with him in the tourney field for no doubt they have to collect all their weapons and horses and such before all can be packed away. Then too,” he added, warming to his theme, “there is always a chance that Lord Kentigern may accompany his lady wife when she attends the Queen this morning.” When Sabina looked alarmed, he added quickly, “Though that seems unlikely in so inattentive a spouse.” He cleared his throat. “Lady Kentigern’s husband is not so—er—devoted as yours, cousin.”

Sabina felt a moment’s horror that Hugo might have overheard their lovemaking from the previous day and almost choked on her mouthful of toasted bread. How thick were these walls?

“Everyone is speaking of it,” Hugo rattled on looking smug. “It is the talk of the palace. Poor, spurned Lady Kentigern and you cousin, the unexpected Queen of the Tourney.” A vaguely puzzled look passed over his countenance as he gazed at her. “Everyone is wondering what it is about you that inspires such strong feeling in these men.”

It was lucky Sabina had swallowed her toast or another coughing fit would surely have been forthcoming. She remembered her mother-in-law saying something equally ludicrous once. “Lady Maud says men suffer from a strange fascination in my presence,” she uttered hollowly.

Sir Hugo looked much struck by this. “A strange fascination,” he echoed thoughtfully, looking her over with renewed interest. He pursed his lips. “I have always thought the Lady Maud a woman of shrewd understanding,” he mused. “Yes, I suppose that does make a sort of sense when you consider why it was you were compelled to marry.”

Sabina stiffened. She heartily hoped that Sir Hugo had not spread about court the scandalous story about being Jeffree’s harlot before they were forced to wed. Remembering Hugo’s glee earlier over court gossip, her heart suffered a sinking sensation. Then again, he was a De Crecy himself, she thought desperately. Surely he would not wish to blacken the family name?

“Apparently Jeffree was breathing fire last night,” Hugo continued with relish. “He took violent exception to something Sir Horace Nash said, for he sent the poor fellow sprawling and when his friends attempted to intervene, dispatched them in much the same manner. A whole table of sweetmeats was overturned, and between them, they made quite the spectacle.”

Sabina gulped. “I don’t suppose it is widely known what exactly Sir Horace said?” she asked faintly.

Sir Hugo looked evasive. “Sir Horace is known for something of a wit,” he admitted. “It is possible he aimed for humorous and missed the mark entirely. Whatever it was, doubtless Jeffree found it vastly offensive.”

“Jeffree found what offensive?” came a voice from the doorway and both Hugo and Sabina started violently in their seats to find Jeffree regarding them with narrowed eyes.

“Oh—er—” Hugo stammered.

“Rich foods,” Sabina interrupted hastily. “I was telling your cousin how offensive you find rich foods at table.”

Jeffree snorted but threw himself down into the chair at Sabina’s right and started piling food onto his plate.

Disaster averted, Hugo flashed her a look of gratitude and tried to engage Jeffree in conversation about some new title Sir Roland had recently acquired. “Those blasted Vawdreys are taking over at court,” Hugo complained. “I tell you it is remarked upon how much favor they find with the King. Their father was naught but an obscure baron, and only look now how high his sons have risen! A duke, an earl, and now a viscount, all in one family! And a family with nothing like the rich lineage of our line, cousin.”

Jeffree shrugged. “Cadwallader was not made a duke by the King but by his marriage,” he pointed out, his gaze roaming unhurriedly over Sabina’s face.

“If something is not done about it,” Hugo continued plaintively, “then they will end up one of the premier families at court!”

Sabina set down her napkin, unable to bear Jeffree’s frowning scrutiny a moment longer. “Is something amiss with my face?”

“Naught that I can see. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you are staring, and you look annoyed.”

“This is the expression my face makes when my thoughts are not engaged.”

Sabina made a derogatory noise and rested her chin on her hand. “I suppose you must be habitually disgruntled then,” she pronounced, “even when your head is empty. How exhausting that must be.”

Jeffree sat back in his chair. “I have never found it so.”