The Seduction (Unexpected Circumstances #2) (10 page)

Branford sat back in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair.  It ended up sticking out all over his head when he brought his hands down.  It made him look much younger, like he did when he was sleeping.

“I don’t know how to teach you,” he admitted.  “I’m not even sure where to begin, but I think I need to know how you really feel about me after what I did.  Without that, I don’t even know where to start.”

I could feel panic begin to rise in my chest.  He wanted to know how I felt about him when I myself wasn’t able to answer the question.  I knew I needed him in many ways, but how did I feel about him?  He was my husband.  How was I supposed to feel?  Did he expect me to love him?

“I want you to tell me something, my wife,” he said.

“Yes, Branford?”  I waited for him to ask me how I felt, and I tried to formulate something in my head that would be enough to appease him but nothing deceitful and nothing that would provoke his anger.  I never wished to have that directed toward me again.

“Tell me exactly what you were thinking when I held you against the wall.”

I froze.

“Your honest thoughts, Alexandra.”

This was not the question I had anticipated.  This question had an answer, but again I didn’t know how it would be received.  However, he had presented an exact inquiry, and I couldn’t refuse to respond.

“I didn’t know what you were going to do,” I finally answered.  My voice was small, and I saw Branford lean forward in his chair to hear me.  “I just wanted to tell you that I didn’t mean to…to…embarrass you.  I should have known better, but I didn’t do it to hurt you.  I thought you were going to kill me, and I wasn’t sure if you would do it here in our rooms or if you were going to take me to the executioner’s block.”

“Did you think you deserved to die for what you did?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Are you loyal to me, Alexandra?”

“Of course, my lord!”

“So if I had killed you, believing you to be a traitor, would I have been wrong?”

“No, my lord.”

“What?” he said, clearly surprised by my answer though I didn’t understand how he could be.  “Why not?”

“Because you will always be right,” I said.  “You would have been protecting your family as best you could.  I’m only a commoner—”

“You are
not
a commoner!” Branford bellowed as he stood abruptly and towered over me.  I shrank back from his voice.  “You are my wife, and there is nothing the least bit common about that!  Dammit, Alexandra!”

I startled and tried to muffle the automatic cry from my mouth as visions from the previous night enveloped me.  I wrapped my shaking hands around my shoulders and waited with my head turned and my eyes closed.

“God in heaven,” Branford murmured before I heard him take a step to approach the chair where I sat.  I heard the rustle of his clothing before I felt his hands on my knees.  “I’m sorry.  Alexandra, I didn’t mean to yell, but you…ugh.”

Sharp points jabbed my thighs, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Branford on his knees with his face in his hands and his elbows resting on my legs.  He was shaking his head slowly and muttering.  I couldn’t understand what he was saying until he finally released his head from his hands and looked back at me.

“How am I supposed to do this?  How am I supposed to figure any of this out on my own?  I don’t know what I’m doing!  I don’t know how to do this without your help!  Please, Alexandra.  Please talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I whispered.  “I want to be a good wife to you.  Please…I’ll learn whatever it is you need from me. I promise.”

“I want to know you,” Branford said.  “And not just because my queen demanded I do so.  But try as I might, I can’t get anything out of you.  Every disparaging thing you say about yourself infuriates me.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to make you angry.  Please, don’t…don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Make me leave,” I finally said as tears began to pour down my cheeks again.  “I know if I don’t get this right, you will find someone else to...to…”

“I won’t,” he said, insistent.  “I told you, I want you to remain my wife.”

“But you still haven’t…”  I couldn’t finish the sentence.  I didn’t know the right words.

He sighed again and reached up to my face with his thumb to brush away the tears.

“You know why,” he said.  “It’s not for lack of want.”

“It is because I’m afraid,” I said.  The word
inadequate
floated through my head.  “And because I don’t know what to do.  I’ve already failed you in this regard.  If I fail in others, you won’t want me anymore.”

“God, no.”  Branford took my face in his hands.  “Alexandra, if you fail anywhere, it is because I have not given you the proper instruction, the proper guidance.  I want to understand you so I can better learn how to teach you what you need to know.  You are not a servant any longer.”

“But I know how to be a servant,” I blurted out.  “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

For a moment, Branford just stared at me.  His eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth only to close it again before he narrowed his eyes.  One of his hands ran through his hair as he looked at me, his expression unfamiliar and confused.  He looked away from me, then down to the floor, out the window, and finally back to my eyes.

“Tell me something,” Branford suddenly said.  “When have you felt the most comfortable with me?”

“My lord?”

Branford closed his eyes and sighed before opening them again.  I realized my mistake and bit down on my lip.

“When have you felt comfortable with me, at ease, like you knew exactly what was expected of you?”

I considered his question, knowing I had to answer as truthfully as I could.  There had been so few times when I felt at ease around him, it wasn’t long before I came up with my answer.

“When you have asked me to do something for you,” I said.

“Like making me tea?  Giving me a shave?”

“Yes, my…Branford.”

“Will you make me some tea now, Alexandra?”

“Of course, Branford.”  I stood and went to the kettle, which was empty.  I quickly tied the front of my dress back together, filled the kettle with fresh water, and hung it over the fire.  I added a couple of logs to help build up the flames, then went to the basket containing the tea leaves and began to prepare the pot while Branford’s eyes followed my movements.

“Bring me my lunch as well.”

I went to the table and ladled the stew into a large bowl.  I added some of the bread to a plate and placed some berries and a pear on it as well and then brought them both to him.  I stirred a spoonful of water from the pitcher into the stew to help it cool a little so Branford’s mouth would not be burned.  Already, I could feel my body begin to relax as my tears dried up.

“Would you like anything else to drink?” I asked.  “There’s wine…”

“Not right now,” he said.  His gaze continued to follow me as I set his meal on the table beside his chair.  I went back to the kettle.  When the water began to boil, I added it to the teapot to steep.

“Who taught you to make tea?” Branford asked.

“Edith,” I replied.  “She was one of Princess Whitney’s other handmaids.  She came to Hadebrand when I was still young.  She taught me to cook as well.”

“She was older than you?”

“Yes, she was several years older.  She was a handmaid in another court for many years before coming to Hadebrand.  She knew several other kingdoms and usually went with the princess when she traveled.”

“I think I know who you mean,” Branford said with a nod.  “Were you friends with her?”

“I suppose so,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.  “I spent more time with Hadley, though.”

“She is the one who helped you get ready for the wedding.”

“Yes.”

“Are you the same age?”

“She was born a few months before me, so we are very close in age.”

“When did she come to be in Whitney’s employ?”

“When we were still quite young,” I told him.  “She is an orphan as well.”

“What happened to Hadley’s parents?”

“She came from a farming family, and her father was killed when his cart tipped over.  Her mother couldn’t work the farm on her own though Hadley tried to help as much as she could.  When the lord of the farmland came to collect the grain she was supposed to supply, it wasn’t ready for him.  Hadley ended up being brought back to the castle since Whitney really needed more than one handmaid by then.”

“Why was she brought back?” Branford asked.

I looked over to him, confused.

“The grain wasn’t ready when the lord came to collect it,” I repeated.

“Yes, you told me that.”  Branford scowled.  “But why was Hadley taken from her mother?”

“The lord punished her mother,” I said.

“By taking her daughter?  Why?”

“He didn’t
take
Hadley from her mother,” I said.  My eyes narrowed in confusion.  He had to understand what the punishment was for failing one’s lord.

“Well, what then?” he asked, his tone demanding.

“The grain wasn’t ready, Branford.  He killed Hadley’s mother as an example to the other farmers.”

*****

“Would you like some more tea?”

Branford shook his head silently.  He had hardly spoken a word since lunch when his questions about the other handmaids I had worked with suddenly stopped, and he had grown quiet.  He had gone from the window, where he looked out over the forest, to the chair near the fire, but he hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words, and he had barely touched his supper.  Now that the sun was starting to set, he was back in the chair, staring absently at the fire.

Since Branford was obviously in no mood for company, I spent some time looking through a wardrobe full of dresses, arranged in a piece of furniture similar to the one that held Branford’s clothing.  There were several customary, daily dresses I had seen many noblewomen wear as well as one obviously fancier dress of blue and cream.  I wondered if it was the dress I was supposed to have worn to our reception.  There were also two nightdresses for sleeping, a long cloak, and a pair of long gloves.  Inside the wardrobe was a small drawer, which displayed jeweled hair ornaments.

Once I had thoroughly explored the wardrobe, I washed off the basin area and made sure the cloth Branford had been using to wash himself at night was accessible.  I placed a dry towel out for his use as well and started to wonder if I should go ahead and prepare myself for bed.  I glanced over toward the chair where Branford sat and was surprised to find him watching me.

“I want you to care for me.”

I startled at his voice, for it had been hours since he had spoken.

“I shall, Branford.  Is there something you need?”

“Only understanding,” he replied.  His voice was short and clipped.  “Come here.”

Branford placed his empty cup on the table beside him and leaned back in the chair.  I approached and stood before him.  My fingers twisted around themselves, a sure sign of my trepidation.  I tried to make them stop so Branford would not notice, but I ended up nervously pushing loose hairs behind my ear instead.  He opened his arms and curled his fingers back toward his chest.

“Sit,” he said.  I started to move to the other chair, but he stopped me.  “Not there.  Here.”

Branford touched his hands to his thighs.  I walked slowly back to him, looking down to where he pointed and trying to figure out how I could sit there.  I turned to the side, gathered up my skirts, and sat astride his lap much in the same way I had on his horse on the ride to the abbey.  Branford’s arms reached around and rested lightly against my lower back.  He looked at me for a long moment before he spoke.

“I don’t think I have ever considered the lives of serfs,” he said, “other than my general duty to make sure the lands are safe from thieves, and all who can work are given work.  There are too many of them, and I have never thought of what life may be like for those outside the court.  When I realized what you were saying—that Hadley’s mother was killed because she could not run a farm on her own—I was appalled.  My first thought was of Edgar and how he has never taken care of his people.  My second thought was that I have killed for less.”

I glanced away from him, and I wondered how many people like me Branford may have killed in anger, and my thoughts lingered on the carriage driver.  He most certainly would have died if Branford had not listened to my pleas.  I still wasn’t even sure why I begged for the man’s life or why Branford decided to retract his punishment.  I felt an unbidden shudder run through my limbs.

“The next thought I had was of you.  I thought about how easily a similar fate could have befallen you long before I ever laid eyes on you.  You could have come to a similar end, and then you would not be here with me now.  I found this thought to be very…unsettling.”

I felt pressure from his fingers against my back.  One of his hands moved up my back, and he pulled me against him until my head rested on his shoulder, and my body pressed tightly against his.  He dropped his other arm and wrapped it around the top of my legs.  He was holding me almost like one would hold a child.