The Apprehension: Unexpected Circumstances Book 6

by Shay Savage

  I understood why but had no idea what to do about it. The few times I had attempted to even bring Hadley’s name up to Branford, he had been quick to distract me, either with talk of urgent matters or more likely with his deft hands and mouth against my skin.

  As he had done the first year of our marriage, Branford spent much of his time devising ways of getting me to some quiet corner alone. There he would attempt—and most likely succeed—to seduce me. I often found myself having to change out of muddied clothing in the middle of the day. Even more often, Sunniva would give me a sly smile as she pulled a wayward piece of straw from my hair.

  I bit down on my lip as I forced any optimistic thoughts from my head. I refused to wonder, speculate, or remotely consider the thought that I might be…

  I couldn’t even bring myself to summon the word to my head even though I knew I felt off-kilter.

  “I should still see if my assistance is needed,” I said, and Branford sighed before releasing his grip on me. I dressed myself and warmed a cup of cider near the fire as Branford rinsed his hands and face in the basin. Branford paused, sniffed at it, and gave me a lopsided grin before drinking it down.

  Though he tried to make light of his revived paranoia, it was not always so amusing. Branford had not gone as far as to ban tea outright; he never drank it again, nor did I. It was not out of fear of the drink itself but more out of Branford’s reaction to it.

  Branford slipped his fingers through mine and brought the back of my hand to his lips.

  “I love you, my wife,” he said softly.

  I felt heat warm my cheeks as I responded in kind. With my arm linked through his, we left the royal chambers and made our way to the grand hall where Ida and Sunniva were instructing servants in the decorations for the feast after the ceremony.

  “Just for a moment, Branford,” I said as I attempted to leave my husband’s side long enough to make sure Hadley needed no assistance from me.

  “Not alone,” he said, and his hand gripped mine tighter.

  “Branford…it’s only the next room.”

  “Never again.” Branford’s eyes darkened, and I recognized the set of his jaw that meant he would be difficult to dissuade. Eventually he agreed to wait outside the door for me, but convincing him was not easy. As I closed the door behind me, I realized it was the first time I had been out of Branford’s field of vision since the poisoned tea was discovered.

  I checked on Hadley and hugged her briefly before I returned to Branford’s side, not wanting him to be too distressed. He immediately took me into his arms and held me against his body for a moment before we took our places at the front of the chapel.

  The ceremony was beautiful, and I could not help but compare it to my own as I listened to Father Tucker’s words and watched Sir Brigham lift the veil from Hadley’s face to kiss her lips softly. I looked to Branford then, wondering if he was also thinking of our first kiss, but he was staring at the floor in front of his booted feet and not watching at all.

  After the wedding, everyone moved to the great hall for the marriage feast. Though Branford placed his hand on Brigham’s arm in brief congratulations, he said nothing at all to Hadley. I gripped his arm, and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before he walked a few feet away to speak to Sunniva.

  I took a deep breath and looked at Hadley, whose eyes were cast to the ground. Sir Brigham was speaking with Dunstan and did not seem to notice.

  “Pay him no mind,” I said softly to her. “He just does not know what to say.”

  “He hates me,” Hadley said quietly. “He does not even look at me.”

  “I do not think that is true,” I responded in the same soft tones. “He blessed your marriage, did he not?”

  Hadley nodded.

  “Forgive me,” she said. “I did not mean to sound ungrateful, I just…”

  I reached out and touched her arm to silence her.

  “Of course you did not,” I said. “And you must not take to heart what Branford does. If given the opportunity, he would probably question his own loyalties as well.”

  Hadley covered her hand to muffle her chuckle.

  “Alexandra,” Hadley said, and though her smile stayed on her face, her eyes dimmed, “I will miss you so.”

  “Miss me?” I questioned.

  Hadley’s smile faltered, and her eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “When we leave,” she said.

  “What are you saying?” I asked Hadley as she broke our gaze.

  “I thought you would have known already,” she said softly.

  I shook my head.

  “King Branford is sending us to live in Seacrest,” she told me. “With Sir Rylan coming here for the negotiations with Hadebrand, Brigham is going to be in charge of the men left behind to protect Seacrest.”

  I scowled and looked to where Branford was dancing with his adoptive mother. In my mind, I tried to determine exactly when he had made such plans since there had been so very few times when we were even out of earshot of one another. My memories soon took me to an afternoon several days ago when Branford was practicing with his men in the field. There were several new, young recruits—boys more than men—who had come from the outlying farms of Silverhelm. Sir Rylan had been there, and I did recall Branford, Sir Brigham, and Sir Rylan all standing near each other and speaking in low voices as I watched and knitted from the edge of the field.

  “He did not tell you,” Hadley surmised.

  “No, he did not.”

  “He does not want me here,” she said softly.

  I could not argue the point for though I knew he appreciated her willingness to serve Silverhelm, she was the reminder of what he had done—what he had sacrificed. Having the opportunity to send Sir Brigham, and therefore Hadley as well, out of the kingdom was probably quite a relief to Branford.

  “He finds it difficult to be in your presence,” I finally admitted.

  “And for you as well?” she asked.

  I reached out and touched her white lace-clad arm.

  “No, my dear friend,” I said. “I am grateful to you. At the time, we had no choice, and if it had to be someone, I am glad it was you. What if it had come down to Whitney? Or if another servant had been chosen—maybe even Janet? I hate to think of what might have happened if someone else had been in your place.”

  We hugged briefly, and my hands slid down her arms to grasp her fingers.

  “And that opportunity has brought you to your Brigham,” I said with a smile. “Wherever you are, you will be at his side. He loves you so dearly.”

  Hadley’s cheeks flushed, and she looked at her feet as she smiled.

  “He has said it would be…different,” she said in hushed tones. “Even Father Tucker said tonight would still be my first…in the eyes of God…well…you know.”

  I smiled too, biting down on my lip at the same time. I considered the irony. I had been a virgin on my wedding night but stayed pure for some time afterwards. Hadley, though not pure, would still experience her first pleasures with her husband on the night of her wedding. She would have love from the beginning of her marriage while Branford and I had to find our way to those feelings.

  After another embrace, I made my way around the dance floor to where I was supposed to sit at the feasting table. The minstrels paused in their song, and I watched my husband’s easy smile as he took a step back from Sunniva. It was good to see him smile as it brightened his face and brought back his youth.

  I walked around the table and laid my cloak over the chair where I would sit next to Branford for the feast. The air in the hall was quite warm on my skin, and the cloak was causing the heat to overwhelm me. As I smoothed out the fabric, servants began to come from the kitchens to bring forth the food for the feast.

  The smell of the roasted meats hit my nose and caused my belly to lurch as I was suddenly reminded of the smell of charred flesh in the practice field outside the castle walls. The back of my throat burned with the taste of bile as
I swallowed hard. Reaching inside the sleeve of my dress, I fished out a small lace handkerchief and covered my mouth, concerned for a moment that my stomach was going to act against me. I stilled for a moment, and the feeling passed, so I moved quickly away from the table, opting for drink instead of food. I walked cautiously toward one of the barrels of mead, nodding to some of the other guests as I passed.

  The smell of the strong ales and wines hit me nearly as hard as the scent of the food. My stomach churned again, and the lace handkerchief in my hands blurred as I stared at it.

  “Alexandra!” I felt Branford’s hands around my middle as he pulled me backwards a few steps to sit upon a nearby chair, holding me sideways in his lap. My head dropped to his shoulder as the room continued to spin.

  “What is wrong with her?” Sunniva asked. I felt her cool fingers on my cheek.

  “I do not know,” Branford replied. “Alexandra? Can you speak?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled into his shirt.

  “What is wrong, my wife?”

  “Dizzy,” I replied softly.

  “I saw her just as she was beginning to fall,” Branford said. “I barely caught her in time.”

  “Alexandra? Have you eaten since this morning?”

  “I do not think so,” I whispered. I could hear Sunniva’s questions, and I could answer her though my voice sounded strange in my own ears.

  “Ida, fetch some water and fruit,” Sunniva said.

  “Of course,” Ida said, and she scurried off toward the table.

  “Branford,” Sunniva spoke softly, “do you know where Alexandra’s cloak is?”

  “At the table, on her chair,” he replied.

  “Fetch it for me, please.”

  “I’m not leaving her!” Branford snapped. “Send someone else.”

  I heard Sunniva’s sigh and felt Branford’s arms tense around me.

  “Get the cloak, Branford.”

  Branford growled under his breath, and I did not have to open my eyes to know what expression went with his exacerbated sigh. He stood and slowly turned to set me down in the chair before he brushed his lips over my forehead.

  “I will return shortly,” he stated as he walked off.

  “Alexandra,” Sunniva said as she reached out and took one of my hands in hers. “How long have you felt like this?”

  “Just a few minutes,” I answered.

  Ida came back with a cup of water and a small bowl of apples and pears. She held the cup to me as I took a drink, and then I bit into one of the pears. I did begin to feel better almost immediately.

  “What about yesterday?” Sunniva asked. “Did you feel ill then?”

  I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

  “I did,” I admitted, “but only for a moment.”

  “And did your stomach empty itself?”

  “No,” I replied with a shake of my head.

  “Did it feel as though it would?”

  I bit into my lip for a moment before I nodded.

  “But I did not get sick,” I said, emphasizing the words.

  “Alexandra?” Ida asked softly. She laid her hand on the top of my shoulder, and I turned my head to her. There was a slight smile on her face. “When were you last in the Women’s Room?”

  I looked down to the ground because in the back of my head, I knew it had been longer than normal, but I had refused to speculate on the reason. If I thought about it, and it ended up being not true…Well, I could not handle any additional disappointments when it came to that subject.

  “It has been…a while,” I finally whispered back.

  Branford gasped and then dropped to his knees in front of me.

  “Alexandra?” he said softly, his bright green eyes staring into mine.

  “It is too soon to say,” I replied, my voice still quiet. I bit my lip as tears brimmed over my eyes and down my cheeks.

  Branford’s eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to my stomach.

  “You are,” he said quietly, and his voice was full of wonder. When his gaze met mine again, his eyes sparkled like green emeralds with their intensity, and the smile that slowly spread across his face made them glow. “You are carrying my son.”

  And that is when I knew I was with child.

  Chapter 3—Ecstatically Prepare

  “It might not be a boy, you know.”

  I felt Branford’s arms wrap around my waist as he leaned his chest against my back and kissed my ear.

  “It could be a girl,” he said quietly, “but the child is a boy.”

  He rested his hands on my hips, and he reached around and wiggled his fingers at my sides. I laughed and pushed his hands away so I could finish dressing. Once I had the dress up around my shoulders, Branford quickly laced up the back of the bodice—a chore which he had adopted since I had yet to find a new handmaid. In reality, he had become as adept at tying up the laces of my dresses as he was at untying them. As he finished, he trailed his fingers around to my front where they gently rubbed my belly.

  As soon as Branford had overcome his shock the previous night, he had carried me to our rooms and lay me down in the bed. For hours afterwards, he held me and stroked his hand over my stomach though there was not yet any visible evidence of what we presumed was hidden inside my womb.

  Branford turned me around and placed his lips on my forehead.

  “I will love our child, be it boy or girl,” Branford said as he looked down at me. “It is not so much that I have a true preference though a male heir must come eventually. I will cherish any child from your body, regardless. I just…I feel that he is my son. I am sure of it.”

  I raised my eyebrows a little as I examined his expression. There was no doubting the sincerity of his words. I only wondered how he could be so sure and hoped he would not be too disappointed if our first child was a girl. I reached up to place my fingers against his cheek, and Branford turned his head to kiss my hand. As I watched my husband’s eyes, they became intense and dark though seemingly with worry and not desire. He took my face in his hands and leaned forward to press his lips against my mouth, kissing me deeply for a long moment as I wrapped my arms around his neck. When he broke away, there was still anxiety in his eyes.

  “Branford, what troubles you?”

  “Do you know how tempting it is now,” he said softly as his fingers brushed over my cheek, “to lock you away in some tower where no harm can come to you? It will take all of my strength to stop myself from doing just that.”

  His gaze settled on my stomach for a moment before it met my eyes again.

  “Though Silverhelm does not, Sterling Castle has such a tower. At least, it did before Edgar tore it apart. Perhaps it is best I have no control over it, for if it were still in my possession, I would undoubtedly make use of it.”

  I worried my lip, biting it and tasting Branford on me in the process. I considered his words and wondered if he truly meant them. By the look in his eye, I had to admit I would not have been shocked to have him consider such an action quite seriously. I tried to push the thought from my mind and distract him from such ponderings as well, for the idea of being locked up in a high tower in such a way caused a shiver to run through my body.

  “Did someone live there?” I asked.

  “That is where our guards—my mentors—lived,” Branford said. “The ones who betrayed my family.”

  He lowered his hand down my body until it reached my midsection, and he placed the palm of his hand over my stomach as I covered his fingers with my own.

  “I did not think you could become more precious to me,” Branford said, “but you have.”

  His lips brushed mine once more.

  “I love you, Alexandra.”

  “I love you, Branford,” I replied.

  Branford smiled and took my hand before leading me first to breakfast and then to the practice field. I took along my sewing and spent most of the day working on a shirt I was making for my husband out of the green silk he had purchased for me when we were first ma
rried. He had bought so much fabric, I wondered if I would ever use it all. Then it occurred to me that I would now have someone else to whom I could devote my sewing skills. I smiled as I held up Branford’s shirt, already considering how I would make one to match in a much smaller size.

  I touched my belly as I leaned back and looked out over the field. A young recruit from the borderlands swung his sword haphazardly at Parnell as the experienced knight danced away effortlessly. Branford further instructed the young man though the novice did not appear to be grasping the proper movements, and I could see my husband’s frustration in his stance.

  Eventually, he waved the young man away, drew his own sword, and attacked Parnell. The two went at it for several minutes, and I must admit I found it hard not to watch the muscles in Branford’s arms and back as he swung his sword. I found myself daydreaming of the previous night as the same hands had caressed my body so gently.

  A call from the road distracted Branford from his battle and me from my fantasy. All eyes in the field turned as Sir Rylan rode up on his steed with a farmer’s cart behind him, a pair of slow mares pulling it steadily over the muddy road. Sir Rylan’s arm waved in the air, and I stood to accompany Branford to where the knight had brought his horse to a halt.

  “I have a gift for you,” Sir Rylan said. He looked at me for a moment. “Perhaps Queen Alexandra should return to the castle first.”

  “My queen stays at my side,” Branford told him. “What gift?”

  “I would like to discuss the terms of the gift first, if we may.”

  Branford’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at our ally.

  “Explain.”

  Sir Rylan swung his leg up and over the saddle and dropped down next to his horse. Michael stepped forward and grasped the reins, moving the large animal off to the side and out of the way.