Page 120 of An Inconvenient Vow

“That is easy,” Jeffree interrupted her as he soaped his hands.

“It is?”

“You simply allow me to order you some new gowns,” he said scrubbing at the back of his neck. “Then keep your eyes on me and me alone.”

Sabina considered. “That is all?” she asked. It could not possibly be that simple.

His gaze flickered as he appeared to consider. “When I lose, tell me my opponent is a filthy cheat, and when I win, smile and say it is inevitable. See, perfectly straightforward.”

“What of the banquets and such?”

“What of them?”

“You must have noticed how stupid and awkward I am, Jeffree,” she said frankly. “I sit there like a stone while the conversation flows about me.”

“If you want to join the conversation you talk, if you don’t, then simply eat your fill.” He shrugged. “That is what I do. Besides, we could just dine in my pavilion. I do not care. In fact…” He considered her a moment in silence. “I should likely prefer it.”

Sabina absorbed this a moment in silence. “If I do not—exert myself,” she said slowly. “If I do not make the smallest effort to—to shine, then how am I to retain your favor? Answer me that, Jeffree de Crecy.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat. “Sabina…”

A knock at the door once more interrupted them.

“I am sorry to interrupt, Sir Jeffree,” Wilton said apologetically, holding out a sealed letter. “The rider said this was urgent.”

“Who sent it?”

“The seal is your uncle’s, but the rider said the letter was from Sir Charles Ellis.”

Sabina’s heart plummeted as Jeffree nodded toward the table and bade Wilton to set it down there. She continued to gaze at the letter as though it was a coiled snake while Jeffree finished his ablutions. The door quietly closed behind Wilton as Sabina’s mind raced.

What could an urgent note from Sir Charles betoken? Had he discovered her sister’s bizarre revenge upon his son? Her heart was in her mouth by the time Jeffree had pulled on a clean tunic and broken the seal. She watched his eyebrows rise as he scanned the first few lines. Then his gaze flickered to her and then back to the letter.

Sabina felt frozen to her chair. “Is all well?” she heard herself ask with a croak.

He shrugged a shoulder. “Charles writes without his usual clarity. He must have dashed this off in a hurry.” She nodded but could manage no response. His gaze dropped to the bottom of the page. “Well, this corroborates our decision of mere moments ago. We will set out for Ganfordshire at first light.” His expression was grim.

“Has his son been found?” she forced herself to ask.

“No, but Charles writes he has uncovered some type of plot or conspiracy against Leland,” he answered with a frown. “He was clearly in a highly agitated spot when he wrote it, and he begs for my help in uncovering some villainy.” He hesitated a moment and then offered her the letter.

“No, no.” Sabina shook her head. “Sir Charles and I are not on such intimate terms that I should read it.”

“Maybe not, but we are,” Jeffree replied forthrightly. His words robbed her of all breath for an instant.

“It would not be right,” Sabina insisted clutching her hands together in her lap.

He frowned but set it down on the table. “Come and wash now; this second jug is for you.”

When she removed her wimple and stood over the washbasin, he stood behind her and wrapped his arms about her shoulders. “Do not look so tense and pale,” he murmured against the top of her head, gently squeezing her upper arms. “It little signifies if you find favor with the Queen or not.”

Sabina nodded and leaned back against him for an instant. She wondered if she should mention that business with Sir Horace from the previous night, but Jeffree bore no visible scrapes or bruises from the incident that she could comment upon. “How is your side?” she asked instead.

“A little sore,” he admitted, releasing her and leaving her to her wash, “but hardly worth the mentioning.”

25

They were halfway down the staircase when Jeffree had a presentiment of disaster about the night ahead. He had half a mind to turn back, but as they were packed in on all sides by nobles jostling to get in line for entrance to the Great Hall, it would take more effort to turn about and leave now for the impetus of the crowd was moving forward.