The Seduction (Unexpected Circumstances #2) (2 page)

“And?”

“You were talking…and I heard you say…”  I paused, both to try to remember his exact words as well as wonder what on earth I thought I was doing.  If my words were taken as an accusation—right or wrong—against my husband and prince, the consequences could be dire.  He owned me, and if he decided to either cast me out for the favor of a new wife or keep me to the side as he entertained himself with someone else, there would be nothing I could do about it.

“Say what, Alexandra?”

“That you would have to replace me.”

“Replace you?” Branford’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed.  “I never said anything like that!”

“You did,” I said emphatically, though I kept my voice quiet.  “You said it was so soon, and you weren’t sure how quickly you should replace me.”

Branford’s eyes widened.

“We were talking about Lily,” he said softly, then shook his head slowly.  “I was not referring to you, Alexandra.”

“You weren’t?”

“No, and I’m a little angry you would think so little of me.  I chose you, Alexandra.  If I hadn’t intended to keep you as my wife, why would I have chosen you in the first place?”

“You wanted to…to upset King Edgar.”

“And I did,” Branford said with a sly grin.

“You have already accomplished that goal,” I said, reasoning.  “Since we haven’t completed our union, you could send me away.”

“I would have completed it on the first night!” he shouted suddenly.  “If I wanted to replace you, I wouldn’t have even considered bedding you!”

Branford closed his eyes, and he took a couple of deep breaths.  I could see the tension rise in his shoulders and slowly dissipate again with each breath.

“Last night I asked you to trust me,” Branford said, “and you did.  Did I do what I said I would do?”

I nodded, my head reeling a little from his swift change in moods.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did you like it?”

I nodded again, blushing.

“Trust me again now,” he said.  “You are going to remain my wife, and I will remain your husband.  No one can change that.”

My mind fluttered back to the words I heard in the garden, the pretty woman holding his hands and beckoning him to her.  I wanted to press the issue further.  Where did they go and what did she give him?  I was concerned I had only barely dodged his anger though, and I wasn’t sure the answer was worth his wrath.

“Will you trust me, Alexandra?”

“Yes, my…Branford.”

He covered my hand with his and pulled it up to his mouth.  I followed the motion with my gaze as he brought my fingers to his lips and pressed gently along my knuckles.  The rough skin of his unshaven face tickled my hand.  Taking a deep breath, I opened my hand and slowly touched the edge of his jaw, the rough stubble of hair scratching the pads of my fingers.

“Would you like me to shave you today?” I asked.

Branford’s eyes brightened, and he smiled.

“Yes, I would like that.”

“Now?”

“I suppose I can only lie around in bed for so long.”  Branford chuckled and kissed the back of my hand again.  “Shall we?”

I moved to sit up and felt a sudden sense of loss when his arms dropped away from me.  I shook my head slightly and then clambered out of the bed to take care of my more urgent morning needs.  Branford placed two logs on the fire closest to the water basin, and I placed the kettle on its hook.  While the water heated, I dressed in the slightly too-long dress Sunniva had me wear while we had hemmed the blue and yellow one.  It hung down low enough to touch the floor, so I spent a moment twisting the fabric into the waistline to shorten it a few inches.

When I came out, Branford was dressed only in his trousers and sat back in a chair he had pulled close to the basin.  Everything I needed to shave him was set out on a nearby cabinet top.  The kettle’s water was boiling, and I added a generous amount to the bowl.  Testing its heat with my fingers, I soaked two towels in the hot water.  Once they were drenched, I wrung out the first one and placed it around Branford’s face.  He winced at first then relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes.

It had been some time since I had shaved a man, but I had shaved Prince Gage, Princess Whitney’s brother, often enough that I wasn’t concerned about my abilities.  Taking a straight razor from the nearby cabinet top, I soaked it as well and then used my fingers to extract cream from the cup on the cabinet.  I rubbed the cream into Branford’s face and neck to soften his skin and make the process more comfortable.

Starting with his neck, I scraped the edge of the razor slowly up his skin, rinsed the blade, and then made a second pass.  I worked over one side of his neck before moving up around his jaw to his cheek.  Branford’s eyes stayed on my face as I worked over him, and he seemed rather tense.  I wondered if he ever had anyone do this for him or if he was used to doing it all himself.  His skin was taut with his tense muscles underneath, and his stare was starting to make me feel self-conscious as well as making my job more difficult.  I decided to try conversation in hopes of diverting his attention and relaxing his face.

“Why does Ida want us to have another reception?” I asked.

“She’s angry with me, to begin with.”

“Because she was supposed to plan your wedding?”

“Yes, who told you?”

“Ida and Sunniva talked about it.”

“Of course.”  Branford sighed and turned his eyes to mine.  He did appear to be relaxed a little now or at least distracted.  “I suppose they told you how awful I am?”

“No,” I replied.  “Sunniva said you were…”

I paused and bit down on my lip, wondering how much I should reveal.

“What did she say?” Branford asked, prodding for an answer.

“She said you were a good man,” I said.

“Did she?”

“Yes.”

For a few minutes, I went about my task in silence, and Branford stared off into space, his expression contemplative.

“Does the reception worry you?” Branford asked.

“Somewhat,” I admitted, slowly sliding the straight blade up the side of his neck.  “I don’t really belong with all those people.”

“Of course you do,” Branford said, correcting me.  “You are my wife.”

“I’m not so sure everyone would agree with that.  Their first sight of me was less than ideal.”

“It doesn’t matter if some of them disagree,” Branford said, his voice low.  “You are mine.  You belong wherever I am, and you will be at my side during the feast celebrating our marriage.”

“I’m yours,” I said quietly.  “I will do as you wish.”

“You are mine.” Branford reached out and placed his hand over my wrist, stopping my motions with the razor.  With his other hand, he reached out and cupped my chin.  “In the same respect, I am yours.”

I moved the razor from my husband’s cheek.  For some strange, unknown reason, the notion made me laugh.

“You find that funny?” Branford inquired, and for a moment, I thought him angry, but when I looked to him, he was smiling slightly.  He released my wrist and chin.

“A little,” I admitted.  I calmed myself and went back to my task.  “I belong to you, of course.  I was given to you when we married—by Father Charles.  It’s supposed to be that way.”

“Is it now?” Branford said with a smirk.

I looked up into his eyes again, trying to determine if he was telling me I was wrong, agreeing, or possibly just teasing me.  I couldn’t determine the answer from his expression.

“I think so,” I mumbled.  I focused back on the edge of his jaw, running the razor carefully over the curve.

“Marriage is a union, Alexandra,” Branford said when I moved to shave the opposite side of his neck.  “As I told you on our wedding night, I do have expectations of you, but there are things I must do for you as your husband.  You belong to me, but I am yours as well.  You will take care of me and our children, and I will protect you and provide for all of you.  What happens to a man if he cannot provide for his family?”

“Um…well…” I stumbled over my words, not expecting the directness of his question.  “In Hadebrand, his family may be taken away and given to a man who can provide for them.  It would depend on his station, but one of Princess Whitney’s other handmaids was taken from her father when he could not care for her and her mother.”

“I better make sure I provide for you,” Branford said.

“But you are a prince,” I reminded him unnecessarily.

“Only as long as I keep my kingdom safe.”

It was yet another idea I had not considered in a long list of things I had not pondered.  There were many, many individual kingdoms within the realm, and though only a very few had stood strong for centuries, a handful of others combined to become stronger.  However, the majority rise and fall as loyalties change and battles are fought.

“Is that what happened to Sterling?” I asked, tensing as soon as the words left me, for I did not know if this was a subject about which Branford would speak.

“Not…exactly.”  Branford’s words were strained and his voice deep.  I could see the tension in his jaw.  “I’m not prepared to discuss that with you.”

“I’m sorry, my lord.”  The words flowed out of my mouth automatically, just as the muscles in my neck and shoulders tensed for the potential physical assault.  He did not make a move toward me, so I looked back to his face and studied him carefully.

His jaw was still tight with his teeth clenched.  His hands were drawn into fists, and the muscles in his arms and chest were tensed and more clearly defined.  Everything about his body screamed against the contained anger and violence within—everything except his eyes.

Branford’s eyes held the deepest sorrow I had ever seen.  I had never witnessed tears from a man, and something inside me reacted instinctively.

Without thinking, I placed the cup and razor on top of the cabinet to free my hands.  I reached out to him, and though I saw his eyes darken, narrow, and glare at the movement, I didn’t stop.  I touched the edge of his jaw with my fingertips and then moved them further up his cheek until my fingers reached his hair.

“I’m sorry, Branford,” I said.  “I don’t remember my parents, so I never really mourned for them.  I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you and Ida.  I’m sorry.”

Branford’s eyes softened as they shifted to look into mine, but his jaw remained clenched.  After a moment, I saw his throat move as he swallowed before he spoke.

“You had better finish with me,” he said.  “I’m sure there’s something Ida is expecting me to do, and if I disappoint her again, I will never hear the end of it.”

I gathered up my tools again, quickly finished the last spot on his cheek and then moved to his chin and upper lip.  Once those were complete, I probed his skin with my fingertips, checking for any spots I might have missed.  I found none and bit down on my lip to keep from smiling at myself.  I took the last towel from the basin and covered his face in the heat again.  I let Branford sit with his face covered for a moment while I cleaned the tools I had used, removed the wet towel, and gently patted him dry with a clean one.

“Excellent,” Branford said as he smiled broadly.  His hands ran over his face while his eyes looked at me.  “Thank you, my wife.”

“Anytime you wish, Branford,” I replied.

“You will spoil me, I think,” he said with another smile.

“Am I not supposed to?” I inquired.  Branford laughed.

“Whether you are supposed to or not, I hope you continue.”

I nodded but could no longer contain my smile.  Branford rose from the chair and stepped closer to me.

“I want to kiss you,” Branford said abruptly.  He reached up and pulled my face closer to his.  “Is that all right with you?”

“Yes,” I said, my breath already gone.  “You don’t have to ask me for that.”

He smiled, raised his eyebrows, and then touched my lips with his very softly and briefly.  I opened my eyes to find him staring intently into them, the green of his irises deep enough to lose myself in them.  He kissed me again with a little more force.

Branford placed his hands on my hips.  He pressed against my mouth as his body pushed me backwards until my shoulders touched the cool stone wall behind me.

“Do you remember what I said last night?” he asked.  “About trusting me?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Trust me now?”  His words were both a question and a command, so I nodded and tried not to let any of the fear that lurked in my belly show itself in my eyes.  Branford took my chin in his hand and leaned close, looking directly at me.  “I’m not going to hurt you, Alexandra.  I swear it.  I just want to touch you like I did last night.”

I nodded again, and Branford’s head dipped, and he placed his lips against my throat, sucking softly on the skin there.  My breaths started coming in pants almost immediately.

His gaze took me in, first looking over my face, then darting to my lips and lower.  He moved his hand quickly up the length of my arm and to my shoulder.  He moved slowly across my neck before dipping lower, grazing my collarbones on the way back.