Page 119 of An Inconvenient Vow

Jeffree turned to her without preamble. “I don’t expect you to charm anyone but me,” he said bluntly. “In fact, I would not like it if you started charming all and sundry.”

Sabina’s head jerked back. “What?”

“You seem to have completely the wrong idea of what I expect from my wife. I don’t want you to have all of court fawning over you. I can’t spare you for that.”

“But—you—” Sabina stopped and took a deep breath. “Jeffree,” she said carefully. “Do you not understand that your wife is seen as a reflection of you? That everyone who sees me is judging me and wondering what the hells you saw in me? Today the Queen asked me to attend her at her garden court and I—I gave her an extremely poor impression of me. It was painfully obvious I did not fit in with all her fine ladies.”

“I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. Stop comparing yourself to inconsequential people.”

“Inconsequential?”

He waved a hand. “Those other women you mentioned. Courtiers, the ladies at court.”

Sabina eyed him incredulously. “The Queen?” she suggested.

“What about her?”

“She certainly had a lively interest in the state of our marriage. Will you own that her opinion is worth something?”

“Not to me,” he admitted frankly. “I don’t want someone who is constantly charming everyone and making friends of all she meets. Those sort of people get on my nerves.”

“Likeable people, you mean?” Sabina suggested in disbelief.

Jeffree huffed out a breath. “You are likeable. My mother likes you. My brothers adore you, but none of that matters. The only one whose opinion you need to worry about is mine. And let’s face it, you can do no wrong in my eyes, so that’s hardly a cause for concern now is it?”

“No wrong?” Sabina echoed. She held up her hand when he started to speak. “Just a minute, Jeffree. Allow me to just let some of these words sink in.” He gazed back at her impatiently as she stared at her feet, before lifting her head again to face him full on. “The only tournament I have attended with you so far has been a complete unmitigated disaster,” she said slowly. “Would you agree?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation.

“No? Jeffree, you cannot be speaking in earnest!” she cried, throwing up her arms. He looked bewildered by her vehemence. Bewildered. My gods…

“Well, I did not win,” he conceded, “but I do not always win. No one does.”

“Jeffree,” she answered weakly. “You—you really are impossible!”

He placed his hands on his hips and looked her up and down. “Just tell me what I need to do,” he said at last gruffly.

“Do?”

“To continue in your favor,” he added, flushing slightly and refusing to meet her eye.

Sabina swallowed. He had used a different term before. “You already have it,” she admitted. “Did I not say so, last night.” Her cheeks burned.

“Sabina—” he started with a groan.

Suddenly, it was imperative that she stop whatever words he was about to utter. “Very well,” she croaked. “I will attend this Beres Caple if you wish it, only—only could we please return home first? I feel completely out of my depth and long for home. Is Beres Caple so very soon?”

“It is in two weeks’ time,” he admitted.

“So there is time for us to return home first?” she asked with a catch in her voice.

He opened his mouth, frowning and Sabina tensed, expecting his refusal. It did not come, instead, he shucked his tunic over his head and emptied one of the jugs into the basin. “Very well.” His reply was short and clipped but it completely took Sabina’s breath away.

“We will?”

“If that is what you want.”

Sabina sank down into a chair; the relief was so great. “Thank you,” she said simply. “And this time you will tell me how I am supposed to deport myself at Beres Caple.”