by Shay Savage
Janet followed me back to our rooms after the evening meal and helped me remove my dress and put on the nightdress Branford favored—the one with the laces in the front, which never stayed tied for long. I blushed at the thought and then dismissed Janet to her room for the night. I reheated the kettle and took a seat in the chair near the fire.
A while later, I went to sit on the edge of the bed since it was a bit more comfortable.
As the sun set and the evening breeze cooled, I lay back on the pillows.
An hour later, I climbed under the blankets to ward off the chill night air.
Branford did not return before I fell asleep. Alone.
*****
The next morning, Branford slept at my side though I had not heard him come in during the night. I rose quietly, unsure how long he had even been asleep. I dressed, made his tea, and then watched the water cool. Finally deciding he was not going to wake any time soon and also not wishing to disturb him, I went to the kitchens to find breakfast. Janet was there, smiling her good morning and offering me some tea. I took the steaming cup from her, and we spoke of the morning’s itinerary.
Branford did not wake until nearly midday. When he did, he was groggy, distant, and short-tempered. He seemed pleased when I offered to bring him his meal to our rooms, but when Janet helped me carry some of it to him, he snapped at her almost immediately.
“You are supposed to be my wife’s handmaid,” he yelled at her. “It does not mean you spend all your time in our rooms! You may come in here to dress her and possibly to undress her if I am otherwise occupied and unable to do it myself!”
Janet cringed at his harsh words, and when I tried to speak to him, he snapped at me as well.
“I am not discussing this with you, Alexandra!” he yelled. “Get her out of here, or I’ll remove her permanently!”
Janet scurried out of the room without further prompting, and Branford plopped into the chair by the fire and dropped his head into his hands. Unsure of what to do, I prepared his plate in silence and set it on the table closest to him. As I started to back away, Branford reached out and wrapped his hand around my wrist. He pulled me toward him and then placed me sideways on his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and held me close to his chest.
“I never should have allowed her to return with us,” he mumbled against the top of my head. “I do not like having her here…in my way.”
“How is she in your way?” I asked.
“When she is here, I cannot touch you the way I wish,” he said with a growl, and I felt his hand reach down under my skirts. He gripped my bare thigh with his fingers but did not venture farther. Instead, he brought me in close to his chest again. He was silent for some time.
“Branford, what has upset you?” I finally asked when the silence became too much.
He blew a long breath, ruffling the hair on the top of my head.
“Nothing, my wife,” he said softly. “Nothing you need to worry about anyway.”
I nodded slightly, wishing he would tell me what was obviously bothering him but knowing he would not.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Yes,” he responded, “but I do not wish to eat just yet.”
I nodded again and fell silent. He held me like that for many minutes before he finally decided to take his meal though he did not eat as heartily as he usually did. I hoped he was not feeling ill.
“I need to go to Sawyer,” he announced as he finished his meal.
I looked down at my hands.
“How long will you be gone?” I asked.
“I want you with me,” he said with conviction. “I will not have you out of my sight—not now.”
“Not now?” I repeated. Branford looked up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time since he woke.
“I need to know you are safe,” he finally said. “Safe means with me.”
I spent the rest of the day in the stuffy carriage with my husband, who refused to explain to me what was going on or why we were going to Sawyer other than to say he needed to speak with Parnell. Once we got there, his conversation lasted all of fifteen minutes, and we were heading back to the carriage again.
I did not understand his behavior at all.
“Are you sure they will be ready?” Branford said softly to Parnell as we were about to depart.
“Of course, Branford,” Sir Parnell said as he clasped his hand on Branford’s shoulder. “I will not let you down.”
Branford took my hand and assisted me into the carriage. I settled back for another long ride, for it would be nearly nightfall by the time we reached our home. Branford was again silent and brooding. He reached out and took my hand, holding it between his as we rode along, but when questioned, he would not offer me an explanation.
We had been riding in silence for some time when the carriage suddenly veered to one side and then came to an abrupt stop. Branford’s brow furrowed, and he leaned over to open the door slightly and peek outside. He swore under his breath.
“Bandits,” Branford said with a snarl. He placed his hand on my shoulder for a brief second before he stood and headed out the carriage door. I heard him shouting as soon as the door closed again, but I could not hear his words. With the coming darkness and the closed carriage door, I could not make out what was happening at all. I rose from the bench and made my way outside.
It happened so quickly, I felt as though I had barely had time to blink before it was over. First, I was coming out of the carriage, and Branford had his sword drawn against one of the robbers, and he seemed prepared to run the man through. There was already another body lying on the side of the road, a few feet from them. I saw Branford thrust his sword forward and then draw it back, covered in the blood of the man in front of him.
That was when I felt rough fingers gripping my upper arm and pulling me toward the front of the carriage. I screamed, and Branford turned, his eyes wide as the gruff man placed his knife against my throat.
I had never seen Branford so obviously terrified.
He clenched the hilt of his sword and started to take a step forward. The man holding me screamed at him as the blade pressed against my neck.
“Stop where you are!” he yelled out. “I will slice her open! I swear it!”
“Do not harm her,” Branford said. The strain in his voice was evident. He crouched, and in surrender, slowly laid his sword on the ground. “Tell me what you want, and I shall make it happen.”
“What I want?” The man laughed a harsh laugh. “I would like to see—”
With a thump, the man’s body was thrown away from me and into the road. I screamed, unable to help myself, as I turned to see the driver—the same man who had driven us to Silverhelm directly after our wedding—grappling with my attacker.
The two men rolled, and Branford regained his sword just as I heard the carriage driver gasp. For a moment, our gazes met—the driver’s eyes as wide as mine. His mouth dropped open, and he gasped before his head dropped back to the ground.
The bandit had just begun to rise when Branford’s sword cleaved through half of his neck, spurting blood over the ground and the side of the carriage. I felt bile rise to my throat at the sight; my vision blurred, and it sounded like my head was under water. I could not breathe, and I slumped to the ground.
As the darkness faded from my vision, I felt a warm hand against my cheek. I slowly opened my eyes to Branford’s panicked gaze.
“Alexandra! Please, say something!”
“Branford…” It seemed all I could manage.
“Thank you, God in heaven,” Branford mumbled. “Are you hurt?”
“I do not think so,” I replied. I tried to sit up, but Branford held me down.
“Do not try to move, Alexandra,” he said. “Just stay here. I want to check on the carriage driver.”
Images flooded back into my head, and I ignored Branford’s words and pulled myself from the ground. Only a few feet away, I could see Branford crouched near one side of the carriage dr
iver—his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife, its blade buried in the driver’s chest.
“Is she all right?” The poor man coughed as he tried to speak.
“She is unharmed,” Branford told him. “You likely saved her life.”
I moved to them and dropped to the ground. I kneeled close to the driver’s shoulders and gently placed his head on my skirts.
“I am fine.” I tried to speak calmly, but my voice betrayed me. He nodded and tried to draw breath, but it was ragged and uneven. Branford placed his other hand on the man’s chest, around the entry point of the blade.
“If I remove it, death will only come faster,” Branford said softly.
“We can do nothing?” Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. Branford merely shook his head slowly from side to side before leaning close to the man on the ground.
“What is your name?” Branford asked. His voice was soft and earnest and reminded me of how he spoke to me when he was trying to ease my fears.
“Thomas, sire.”
“Do you have a family, Thomas?”
“Yes…sire. My…my wife. Our daughter is grown now...moved to Wynton.” He coughed again, and I turned my head as blood sprayed from his mouth.
“What is your wife’s name?”
“Samantha…sire.” He gasped and his muscles tensed. “She worked in the fields, but she is lame now…What will happen to her?”
“Do not fear for her,” Branford said. “You have saved my wife from certain harm, and I am forever in your debt, Thomas. Samantha shall come to live with us in the castle.”
“Thank you, sire.” The man reached up and grasped Branford’s forearm, but he looked into my eyes. “You will be a…a good king…with her at your side.”
His hand fell and his head slumped at the same time, and he did not take another breath. Branford pulled me up from the ground, insisting we get back to the castle as soon as possible.
“We cannot just leave him!” I cried as tears continued down my cheeks.
“I have to keep you safe!” Branford took my face in his hands. “I will send for his body—I promise you—but I will make you safe first. If you are harmed, he died for nothing.”
Branford took the harness attached to the carriage horses and placed me near the withers before he climbed on behind me. He wrapped his arm around me and his fingers gripped the reins. A moment later, we were galloping back up the road to Castle Silverhelm.
We rode fast with Branford’s arm wrapped tightly around my center, holding me back against his chest as we sped through the darkening sky. As I looked from one edge of the road to the other, I could not help but imagine what might be out there—who might be out there—watching us and waiting. Images of Thomas would not leave my mind, and silent tears fell sporadically as Branford’s lips touched the side of my face, and his whispered words attempted to bring me comfort.
I nearly cried out in relief when the castle gates loomed up ahead. I was given to Dunstan to watch over as soon as we arrived at the castle’s entrance, and Branford went immediately to speak with Camden.
He did not return to me that night though he was in our bed come morning. He did not stir at all in his sleep when I rose, and I did not wish to disturb his rest, so I left our rooms quietly. Colin and another guard I did not recognize were outside our doors. They both watched over me at a respectable distance as I ate breakfast with Janet and went to the marketplace to find more of the right color thread to finish Branford’s baldric.
Branford had apparently awakened and had already left our rooms when I returned. I sat with Janet and Sunniva in the Women’s Room, embroidering and speaking of sewing and cooking. I managed to finish the baldric and asked Sunniva when she thought I should give it to him.
“His birthday is next month,” Sunniva told me. “It would be a fine gift.”
I smiled, glad I had asked. It had not even occurred to me to ask the day of his birth. After all, birthdays were only celebrated by those of noble blood, and I had never even had the need to know my own. I only knew that I was born shortly after harvest.
I returned to our rooms with the baldric and embroidered blanket wrapped in a large leather sack. Branford had not come back, and I decided to go looking for him in the most obvious place—the field near the horse stables, where he was likely either with his horse or his dogs. I tried to ignore the two men who followed me nearly everywhere I went, but it was difficult to become accustomed to their presence.
When I reached the field, the dog pack was near the edge of the woods, sniffing at the trails and chasing squirrels. Romero was nowhere to be seen, so I walked toward the stable.
Branford was inside along with Dunstan and another man dressed as a forester. My husband stood with one hand on his sword and his other hand in his hair, pulling at the tips like he often did when he was upset or concerned.
“Four hundred of them, sire,” Dunstan was saying. “How could they possibly amass such a number in such a short time?”
“It makes no sense,” Branford said, seeming to agree. “Are you sure of the numbers?”
“Positive, sire,” the forester said.
“In that location, it could hardly be anyone else,” Branford said.
I stepped through the doorway, and all three heads turned to me. I felt warmth in my cheeks and wondered if I would continue to blush like a child every time my husband’s eyes met mine.
“Alexandra,” he said. “What brings you here?”
“I was looking for you,” I said and suddenly felt foolish. I looked back to the way I had come, wondering if I should just leave him and return on my own. I decided to at least bring up a practical matter so I didn’t appear to have come out here for no real reason at all. “It is nearly dinnertime.”
Branford glanced back to his companions and then walked to me, taking my hands in his.
“Of course it is,” he said quietly. “Let’s return to the castle and get you fed, my beautiful wife.”
His lips touched the edge of my cheek for only a moment before he took my arm and led me back to the castle. He had our meal brought to our rooms and spoke of the dogs and the horses as we ate. As soon as the meal was finished, he stood to leave.
“I must speak with Camden,” Branford said. “I’ll return shortly.”
“You will be here then?” I asked timidly. “In the night, I mean?”
“Yes, of course.”
“It’s just…you haven’t been.”
He looked at me darkly.
“Do not concern yourself with such things, Alexandra,” he said. “It will only cause you stress.”
I lowered my gaze to the floor and felt my teeth sink into my lip. Branford touched my chin and he tilted my face to look at him. His eyes held such a strange and sad expression. I did not know what to make of it.
“I will return to you,” he said. “I swear it.”
Several hours later, when I had nearly given up, he did return. He took me to our bed and held me tight against him as he lay on top of me, burying himself within me and crying out my name as he filled me. His mouth left soft kisses on my neck, but when he looked up to my face, I could still see the sadness in his eyes.
“Please, Branford,” I begged. “Please tell me.”
He shook his head slowly as he rolled onto his back, taking me with him and cradling my head on his chest.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered into the night. “I will tell you tomorrow.”
*****
Romero slowed to a trot as we entered the meadow where Branford and I had spent time before. He had barely spoken on the ride here though he brought me to the stables because he had something to tell me. So far, he had not made conversation, and I did not wish to push him if he was not ready.
After our dismount, Branford removed Romero’s saddle from his back and released him. Romero wandered off to the far side of the meadow near a stand of bright purple clover flowers. Branford took my hand and led me to the center of the meadow, laying Romer
o’s saddle blanket on the ground before us.
He did not speak as he took my mouth with his or as he pushed my dress from me. His movements were hurried and desperate, which I could only assume was due to the lack of physical attention over the past two days. He had come back to our rooms so late, I was already half-asleep, and he still slept long after I woke in the morning. Since the day we took Amarra to meet the rest of his pack, Branford had only laid a hand on me once—just the night before—and it had been quick.
He made up for it now.
He pushed my dress down and away then cupped my breasts and brought them to his mouth. He kissed, sucked, and licked until I was squirming on the blanket below him. Branford paused only briefly to remove his own clothing before bringing his hands back to my bare skin, determined to run his fingers over every inch of my body.
His touch slowed, and his hands ran from my shoulders to my hips and back again. His mouth followed the trails his fingers made until it found mine, and he kissed me deeply. I felt his hand between my legs, pushing me open for him. His long fingers found me ready for him, and he wasted little time.
Branford circled around the back of my thigh with his fingers, and he brought my leg nearly to his shoulder as he pushed inside of me, connecting us again and making me feel so wonderfully full and wanted. He sighed my name as he entered; his mouth covered my nipples, and as he sucked on them, I reached for his hips, placing my hands on his backside and pulling his body into mine.
“Oh…Alexandra…” He moved his mouth in circles around my breasts and his hand grasped the back of my head. He brought his lips to mine, and his tongue ran over them for a moment before he trailed kisses over my chin and down my neck. He moved expertly within me, choosing the perfect rhythm and alternating the speed and depths of his penetrations.
“Branford!” I cried out as his hips circled, creating pressure exactly where I needed it most, and my body seemed to explode in pleasure. Branford began rocking back and forth faster, his strokes longer and deeper until he growled against the hollow of my throat, held himself deep within me, and called out my name once more.
With his head nestled near my neck, Branford stroked lightly with his fingers over my arms, up to my shoulders, and back over my breasts before resting his hand against my stomach. I gazed at his face and found his eyes closed, his lips moving silently. I had noticed before that Branford prayed every time he took my body though I had never asked for what he might be praying.