Page 138 of An Inconvenient Vow

By the next tournament, Sabina vowed she would be dressed as grandly as the highest lady in the land. She knew that, in Jeffree’s mind, she could not aim high enough in her aspirations. What a pity Isemay would not see the result for a couple of months, Sabina thought, for her sister had journeyed the previous week to her new home in Sutton St. Bolston where Ellis Hall stood.

Sir Charles had initially been beside himself to find that not only his godson but also his heir had been snared by a designing Burrell female. It had taken weeks before Sir Charles had been well enough to leave the back bedchamber at Morecotte for he had been very run down and ill.

Over those ensuing weeks, Isemay had been a frequent visitor and won him over with her pretty ways and her love of music which was the one indulgence he allowed himself. He was also reconciled to Sabina, though she did not fool herself that they would ever be friends, at least they could be civil to one another.

His good friend the Duke of Bethencourt had also deigned to visit and could not praise Isemay highly enough, making it plain he thought the maiden, if anything, was far too good for the likes of wild Leland Ellis. The duke seemed to enjoy lamenting his own broken heart to anyone who would listen and Sabina thought he was enjoying playing the disappointed lover to the hilt.

By the time Sir Charles was well enough to set forth for his home in Sutton St. Bolston, he had been accompanied by both his son and his new daughter-in-law. Everyone was relieved to see that, despite his healed body, Leland showed no sign of picking up his old crowd and seemed more than content in his new bride’s company.

Sabina still did not know that she would trust her new brother-in-law as far as she could throw him, but after seeing the way his dark eyes softened when they rested on Isemay, she was forced to concede he did seem genuinely attached to her.

Isemay would certainly approve of the new gowns, Sabina thought, and the tailor her sister had insisted she use had certainly deserved his reputation. Now the gowns had arrived, they simply took her breath away. His team had remained for over two hours checking the final fit of each garment and making minute adjustments so they draped exactly as they should on Sabina’s form.

Each one she had thought was more lovely than the last. She stood now in the final dress. It was of the finest pale blue silk, closely fitted at her bodice and waist, then flaring out from her hips into voluminous skirts decorated sumptuously with gold embroidery.

“Should we not take the gown off you now, my lady?” Penny enquired, looking the dress over uncertainly. “For surely its like is for parading about at court, not at home?”

Sabina shook her head. “You would think so Penny, would you not? But you see, Sir Jeffree expects me to dress like this every day from now.” The two women exchanged doubtful glances. “Well, we shall see,” Sabina concluded uneasily. “I will certainly need a few plainer gowns for days when I am just at home.”

“And for in the winter, milady,” Penny pointed out. “You would freeze to death in such thin stuff on a cold day in February.”

Sabina nodded. It was naught but the truth, though Jeffree would likely expect her to order a bunch of heavier brocades lined with fur, knowing his tastes. Well, she would cross that bridge when she reached it. “We need to find chests deep enough to store these other gowns inside, Penny,” she answered pulling a face. “I will have to sacrifice some of my old ones. Do you think you could repurpose any of them for yourself?”

Penny’s face brightened. “Right gladly, milady.” Over the next hour, they threw open the trunks and made room for Sabina’s new clothes, making a pile of her old ones to pass to Penny.

“This brown kirtle will likely need to be rehemmed,” Sabina remarked noticing the state of its skirts.

“’Tis of no matter, milady, for I’m a whole head shorter than you,” Penny pointed out.

“That is true enough.”

Penny was cheerful at the prospect of alterations and soon bore off her spoils looking well pleased, while Sabina sat on her bed and undid the parcel containing her new headwear. To her delight, the package contained not only two gauzy veils as white as snow but also two golden hairnets woven from the finest golden thread.

How delicate and pretty they were. On impulse, Sabina unpinned the starched linen wimple she habitually wore, casting it over a chair. Moving across to the looking glass at the end of the room, she immediately donned one of the gold net cauls about her head, so that it stretched over her coiled braids and then pinned the white veil to the back of her head.

Sabina turned her head this way and that to examine the effect. She looked nice, she thought with a nod, definitely more youthful. Isemay would certainly approve, though her shoulders and neck felt very bare after wearing a wimple for over two years.

Certainly, this way you could appreciate the flattering neckline of her new gown and Jeffree would be able to glimpse her braids through the gold netting, she thought. He should like that considering his preoccupation with them. That was something which had not abated one whit in the past three months.

And that was not the only thing. She had realized that not only did Jeffree like her on top, but combative speech inflamed him. He liked to be heaped with insults as much as praise in the bedchamber, where they were starting to know each other’s likes pretty well by now.

Jeffree was just as keen to learn what she liked and he tended to take her at her word, so she now simply told him what she wanted without hesitation. It seemed he would deny her nothing and really, what was the point in playing coy when he needed instruction and she needed… well, him.

As for his next day embarrassment, she had also found a way around that. The best thing to do was to simply tackle him first thing before his defenses were up. That way she could get an I love you out of him before they had even left the bedchamber. He would gaze up at her as she straddled him, his blue eyes so adoring that Sabina sometimes had to look away.

When she did this, he would invariably reach up and turn her face back to his and when he tipped over, he would do so with a hoarse cry, his eyes very blue. By the time they went belowstairs he had an almost benign look on his handsome face and would sometimes even whistle a tune.

They had started out that morning the same way and Sabina thought of it now as she started down the stairs, a faint blush on her cheek. She had only reached the halfway point when she heard Jeffree’s voice upraised and calling for her. “I’m here,” she called and paused as he strode into view.

His brow cleared when he caught sight of her, but whatever words he had been going to utter seemed frozen on his lips. He stopped stock-still, staring up at her a moment before finding his voice. “Come down here to me, wife,” he said at last. “That I may take a better look at you.”

Feeling strangely nervous, Sabina complied, halting on the bottom step so her eyes were almost level with his own. “What do you think?” she asked, turning slightly to the left then right so he could get the full effect.

“What do I think?” he repeated hoarsely. “I think that if you had worn this dress to the Bishop’s Palace, then I would have begged for an introduction to you on my knees.”

Sabina laughed. “You are too fulsome in your praise, sir.” She dropped her voice and raised a hand to the swell of her bosom. “Indeed, you put a poor widow to the blush.”

“You put me to the blush,” he countered, “for I can see your glorious hair and you know full well it is a weakness of mine.”