by Shay Savage
“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.
“The idea of harm coming to you is difficult for me to imagine. I realize that may sound ridiculous to you, given my recent behavior, but I was not in my right mind at the time. Sometimes my temper can hinder my ability to think clearly, and I act on impulse instead of thought. But sitting here now, contemplating the idea, I can’t even begin to describe how I feel about your being hurt or killed. And to know I caused such a mark on you...”
Branford’s words trailed off, and I felt his touch against my hair.
“Are there any others, Alexandra?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “Did I hurt you anywhere else? If you don’t warn me before I see any other marks…”
Again his words disappeared, and I didn’t take long to decide that telling him about my bruised arm would be much better than having him find it on me later.
“My arm is bruised a little,” I said quietly. “But that’s all. It doesn’t hurt.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Branford muttered under his breath. I glanced up to see him close his eyes and take several slow, deep breaths. He mumbled something else, but I couldn’t make out the words. He tilted his head back against the chair as he stared up at the ceiling for a moment. He blinked a few times, took a long, slow breath, and turned toward me. I felt his lips pressed against the top of my head.
“I’m well trained in how to lead knights into battle,” Branford said. “I know how to motivate them and how to ease their fears. I know what to say when they are unsure of themselves, and I need to convince them to continue on, and I know what to do when they see the battle as lost but still must fight until there are none of them left. But you…”
Branford brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek and then turned me to face him.
“I have to figure it out,” he said quietly. “I can’t expect you to be able to tell me what you need any more than I could expect those men to tell me how to give their lives with pride and confidence for their kingdom. It’s unreasonable. There has to be a way…”
His gaze went wide for the briefest of seconds before his half smile returned to his face. He looked right into my eyes with a strange glimmer in his gaze, and I wondered if it was because the light from the fire was hitting his eyes just so. He reached to push the fallen strands of hair from the side of my face back behind my ear and over my shoulder. He traced along the outside of my arms with his finger until he reached my side, where he set his hand comfortably against the rounded part of my hip.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” Branford said. “You’re kind and devoted, which is exactly what I wanted in a wife. I think I am beginning to understand why you do not speak to me the way I wish, but we will just have to find a way to…well, to change that. I know it will be slow because asking you to unlearn such behavior at my whim is hardly reasonable. Still, I want you to try, starting with when we are right here in this chair with you on my lap. If you feel there is something you should tell me, we will sit here like this. I promise to listen to anything you say. You will never be punished for speaking to me when we are in this place. If I ask you a question here, you may answer with what is on your mind with no fear of retribution. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“In return, I want you to always answer me truthfully when we are here,” Branford said, continuing, “and if there is anything you want to tell me, or think you should tell me, ask me to sit here with you. Will you promise to do that?”
“Yes, my…Branford.”
“We’ll sit here every night we can before we go to bed. If there is anything you wanted to say to me during the day but were afraid to do so, this will be the place you can speak what you wish. If something happens when we are apart, you could tell me about that here, too.”
“Like, I could have told you about hearing you speaking with Parnell?”
“Yes.”
“And you wouldn’t be…um…angry with me?”
“I’m not angry about that,” Branford said. “Not anymore. If you had told me here, I would still have been upset with you, Alexandra. You should have made it known to me that you were not sleeping. I may still get angry at times, but you will never be punished for it if you tell me here. Does this make sense to you?”
“I understand what you are asking,” I told him, “though I don’t understand why you would do such a thing.”
Branford’s lips pressed against my hair again.
“Don’t worry about the whys, Alexandra. That’s my job.”
“Yes, my Branford.” I heard him chuckle as I blushed again.
“I do like it when you say that.”
“You do?”
“Yes, very much so.”
“Why? I’m not addressing you correctly.”
“But you are laying claim to me. As I have said, I am yours as well. You didn’t seem to believe me at the time, but at least I get to hear you say it in this way.”
I sank my teeth into my lower lip, and Branford ran his hand from my waist, over my hip, and then back up my side. His fingers danced over the back of my hand, then up the sleeve covering my arm.
“I want to know you, Alexandra,” he said. “I want to understand what you need from me even if you won’t ask me for anything. I still want to provide you with everything you need and anything you want. If there is ever anything you desire, you may ask for it here.”
“If you wish,” I answered.
“I do,” he replied. “I have one last question for you, Alexandra, and since we are sitting here like this, I want you to be completely honest. You won’t be punished because of your answer.”
I nodded quickly.
“Do you still wish me to bed you tomorrow night as we have discussed?”
“I…I think so,” I replied. I didn’t know why he would be asking such a question now unless he was still considering whether or not I could be effective as his wife.
“Yes or no, Alexandra,” he said quietly. His finger touched the end of my chin. “Can you not even tell me this?”
“I want to stay your wife,” I responded. I wasn’t sure if it was the right answer or not, but at least it was true. “If I am to be your wife, I want to…to be…that way with you.”
“Is that a yes, then?”
“Yes,” I said and felt my face flame. Branford cupped my chin with his hand and turned me to face him before placing his lips against mine.
“Then we should get ready for bed,” he replied. His lips turned up into a smile, and his eyebrows arched over his eyes. “I have much to teach you this evening if you are to be ready tomorrow.”
“Would you like to bathe before bed?” I asked.
“Yes, I would—if you are willing to help me.”
“Of course, my…Branford.”
And that is how we began redefining our relationship.
Chapter 5—Cooperatively Learn
I pulled the kettle from the fire and added the heated water to the basin. Branford grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head as I soaked the cloth for him. As he removed his shirt, I allowed myself to look from the corner of my eye at the muscles outlined on his chest and arms and marveled at the sheer strength displayed there. I glanced at his eyes, and saw him smirking at my stare. I looked away quickly, feeling ashamed.
“Look at me all you want,” Branford said. “I can only hope that was a look of appreciation in your eyes.”
Avoiding his gaze, I went back to testing the water’s temperature and making sure I had everything I needed. Branford laughed quietly, and I felt him move to stand close behind me as he rested his fingers lightly on my waist.
“What is it you
like?” he asked quietly. It was a direct question, so I knew I had to answer him. I thought for a moment before responding, trying to hide my embarrassment.
“The lines,” I said. “I like the way your muscles make lines over your chest and stomach.”
“Hmm.” He tightened his grip on my waist and turned me around. I tilted my head to look up at him, trying to decipher the meaning of the sound he made. As I had been on several other occasions in our short time together, I was a little in awe of his magnificent features. I found myself wanting to touch his face and wondered if that was something I would be allowed to do or if it would not be welcomed. I looked to his eyes, and his expression was passive. I wasn’t sure if my answer pleased him or not.
“Is that…wrong?” I asked tentatively.
“Of course not,” he said with a small shake of his head. “I was only intrigued by your response. What I appreciate when I look upon you is your softness, your curves. I find it interesting you seem to appreciate the opposite.”
“It seems more fitting for a man.”
“I suppose it does.” Branford nodded. “I have always considered how strength benefits me in battle but not how it might be perceived by others. Of course, I’ve never had anyone to bathe me before. Well, not for a long time.”
“When was the last?” I asked and then considered I might not want to know the answer.
“The woman who cared for Ida and me when we were young would bathe us. I didn’t really trust any servants after we left Sterling. I would never let anyone get that close to me.”
“But you…you trust me to do it?”
Branford looked at me sharply for a moment, and I could see the doubt in his eyes though he contained it quickly. His chest rose with a deep breath before he answered.
“The bathing doesn’t concern me,” he said. “When you shaved me…well, that was rather difficult, I must admit. I’ve never allowed anyone to do that before, and I’m not used to being in such a vulnerable position.”
