I had just felt the most incredible and indescribable sensation my body had ever produced.  Words to describe the feeling that had just overwhelmed my body, inside and out, were not forthcoming.

“Branford?”  My breathing had finally come back to a more normal state, and I felt as though I could speak again.  My husband’s hand was running lazily from the top of my head to my waist in the same manner as it had in the mornings when I woke in his arms.

“Yes, Alexandra?”  I could feel his smile where his lips touched my forehead.

“What…um…”  I paused, not really knowing how to ask my question.  Whatever it was he had just done to me was without description.  Even though my breathing was as it should be, and my heart had stopped pounding beneath my breast, my legs were still throbbing, and I was quite sure I would not be able to stand if I tried.  “Um, what was that?”

“That,” Branford said, “was what a man can do for his wife.  That is how you are supposed to feel when your husband lies with you.”

His smile was more noticeable against my temple as he pressed his lips there.  I considered his words for a moment and thought about what my body had done—how I had felt.  The sensations had been uncontrollable, and I wondered if he had the same experience.

“Is that what you feel, too?”

“I’m not sure it’s exactly the same,” he said, “but I think it must be similar.”

It was no wonder he looked at me the way he did if it was such a feeling he desired.  I closed my eyes and tried to remember exactly what it had felt like.  Though it had been only a few minutes before, I found the memory not exactly fading but incomplete, like the feeling itself could only be experienced, not remembered.  I wondered if Branford had felt it as well, but I didn’t think he had.  When his hand had been between my legs, touching and rubbing against me, I had cried out, unable to stop myself.  Branford had not.

“Did you…feel like that?  Just now?”  I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him.  Branford smiled and glanced away for a moment before answering me.

“No, not just now.  I will feel like that when I am inside of you.”

Branford touched the side of my face, and his thumb stroked my cheekbone.  He smiled and his eyes sparkled in the fading firelight.

“Believe me,” he said softly, “when I feel like that, you will know.”

I blushed as I tucked my head down against his chest and thought about my own reactions to the feeling.  I found myself wondering just what Branford would do and how I would know.  It had been such an intense, wonderful feeling, and knowing he had not felt that way as well had me wondering if he regretted what he had done.

“Shouldn’t you have, um…felt like that?” I asked.  “I mean, not just me?”

He pressed his hand to my cheek, and I turned my head to look upon him again.

“I did thoroughly enjoy your hand on me,” he said.  He raised his eyebrows a little and grinned.  “If you had kept touching me that way…well, it’s best that you stopped.”

“Why?”

“Because I promised to give you time to be ready,” he said simply, “and I would have wanted you here—tonight.  I still did.  I still do, but I will wait until tomorrow.”

The other times I had reminded him that he did not have to wait had only displeased him, so I just nodded my head in agreement.  I was truly far too exhausted to reply.  Branford pushed lightly against my head, bringing it to rest on his chest.  I closed my eyes, vaguely aware that my nightdress was still bunched about my waist, and fell into one of the deepest slumbers of my life.  It was still dark when I opened my eyes again, but my body was relaxed, still, and tranquil.  I was no longer fearful of his presence as I had been before.

Looking at his sleeping face, I found I wanted to touch him again.  I wanted to run my hand along his jaw, trace his brows with my fingers, and touch my lips to his, but I did not wish to wake him.  He looked peaceful, and I did not want to disturb his rest.

The fire was down to coals, and there was a distinct chill on the top of my shoulders, which were neither covered by the blankets nor Branford’s embrace.  Twisting my body a little, I managed to untangle myself from Branford’s hold.  Though my body was free, I realized his fingers were also wrapped tightly around the gathered cloth of my nightdress, and I had to pry them away before I could get out of the bed.  I pulled the garment back up and over my shoulders, quite aware how much the night temperature had dropped, now that I was without blankets.  I went quickly to the chamber pot before stoking the fire near the bed.   Once the flames were high again, I decided to build up the fire in the morning room as well.  It was nearly out, and I had to blow gently on the coals in order to nurture flames to ignite the wood.

Rising, I looked to the shuttered, east-facing window and saw a thin sliver of light peering through the small hole in the coverings.  I remembered Branford throwing one of the logs through the air and into the shutter and realized it now needed repair.  The damage wasn’t serious, but too much cold air now came from the outside.  I thought I would point it out to Branford but then wondered if he would want to be reminded of that night.  I decided not to mention it at all because I didn’t know how he might react.  Either he would notice it himself, or someone else would.  Maybe I could find what would be needed to repair it myself.  He certainly wouldn’t want anyone inside his rooms to fix it.

With the fires blazing in both rooms, I returned to the bed.  Branford was on his back, with his hand resting against his stomach and his head turned toward where I had been beside him.  His brows were knitted together in sleep but seemed to relax as I climbed back to my place beside him.  Being careful not to wake him, I lay my head on his shoulder, pulled the blankets back up around us, and wrapped one of my arms around his waist.   He reached up and gripped my forearm as it lay across his body, and his opposite arm wrapped around my back, holding me close to him.  I was instantly warm again even though the heat from the fire had barely reached us.  I found myself smiling as I closed my eyes and relaxed back into his strong, safe arms.

*****

I knew Branford was already awake before I opened my eyes, for I could feel his hand touching my hair, stroking it down to my waist and back again.  I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to cover my yawn as I opened my eyes to look at him.  His eyes were bright and his look soft as he gazed down at me with a half smile.  I shivered a little as he rested his hand on the small of my back and traced his fingers lightly across my hip.

“Good morning,” he said with his voice full of sleep.

“Good morning, my…Branford,” I replied, embarrassed again at my continual mistake.

“Did you get cold?” Branford asked.  His smile grew broader as his fingers grazed lightly over the material covering my shoulders.

“When I got up earlier, it was cold,” I said.

“You tended the fires.”

“Yes.”

“You will definitely spoil me,” Branford said.

“You said you wanted me to.”

“That I did,” he replied.  “I only hope you do it because you want to and not because you think you have to.”

My eyes narrowed slightly, and I wondered what difference it made.  As long as I did as he instructed, I didn’t know why my reasons for doing it mattered.  He continued to stare at me a while, and I began to worry that I was supposed to respond to what he had said though I wasn’t sure how.  After a few moments, he yawned and stretched his neck.

“I would prefer to lie here with you all day,” he said, “but I don’t suppose we’ll be given that option since a troop of kitchen workers bearing breakfast will likely be here any moment.  Besides, there is something I need to do today, and you will accompany me.”

“Where are we going?”

“I have a tournament at Sawyer Fort in four days,” Branford told me.  “My squires exercise my horse daily, but I need to check on him and do some of his exercising myself.  Besides, it looks like it will be a beautiful day.”

Branford indicated the beams of sunshine already peeking through the windows.  I nodded in agreement.

“It does,” I agreed.  “Should we rise now?”

“I already have,” Branford said with a smirk, which I didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” I asked, but Branford only chuckled in response.  He placed his lips against my cheek, then across my jaw.

“Tomorrow morning, maybe I will keep you here for a while longer,” he said, his mouth kissing slowly against the side of my neck.  He slid his hand up my side, and his thumb lightly traced the edge of my breast.  I gasped as I suddenly understood what he was insinuating.

“In the morning?” I asked, a little shocked and not altogether sure if he was serious or not.

“I would touch you more now if I didn’t think we would be interrupted,” Branford confirmed.

I could not believe what he was saying.  I had always assumed such activity was reserved for nighttime, under the cover of sheets and darkness.  Would he really wish to do such things when we first awoke?  Was it even an appropriate thing to do?

“People…I mean…it’s acceptable to do…that in the morning?”

Branford’s gaze shined down at me, and the corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as he leaned in close enough to whisper in my ear.

“Alexandra, if you will allow me to have my way, I am going to want you in the night when we go to bed and when we wake up each and every morning.”  His tongue danced across the skin of my throat, and his words became dark and soft.  “I’m going to want you after breakfast near the fire in the morning room.  I will attempt to seduce you in the stables at midday.  I’ll want you by moonlight in the gardens.  I would love to take you on Camden’s throne if I thought I could get away with it.  Someday, when the throne is mine, I will have you there.”

“In the garden?” I said quietly.

“I hope so.”

“On the…on the throne?”

“Definitely.”

“Couldn’t someone see us there?”

“Possibly,” Branford said with a shrug.  “I think I would be far too focused on the task at hand to notice.”

The shock on my face had to have been evident since Branford shook his head slightly and told me not to worry.  I couldn’t even imagine having Branford do such things to me where others might be able to walk right in and discover us.  I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me or not.  He gave me a final kiss on the top of my head before rolling away from me, tossing his legs over the side of the bed, and sitting up.

“I suppose we should get ready before servants start rummaging around in here again.” Branford grumbled and pushed himself out of the bed.

Branford dressed while I heated water for his tea.  He was right about breakfast being brought to us before long, for no sooner had the water begun to boil, there was a noise on the other side of the morning room.  Branford mumbled something under his breath, but I couldn’t understand what he said.  He glared toward the door, and I knew he didn’t want any of them in our rooms.  Moving quickly, I went to the door leading into the hallway and opened it.  While there wasn’t actually a troop, four servants from the kitchens appeared with bowls, plates, cups, and pitchers.

“Breakfast, my lady,” a tall, dark-haired, and severe-looking woman said.  She started to walk through the door.

“Wait!” I said, surprising myself a little.  The woman stopped short and looked at me as my heart pounded so hard I wasn’t sure if I could get my next words out.  Even my hands were shaking a little.  I took a deep breath and looked up at the dark-haired woman.  “I will take Sir Branford’s breakfast to him.  You are to remain out here.”

“Of course, my lady.”

She didn’t seem at all affronted, for which I was glad.  Actually, she seemed somewhat relieved.  I looked over the food in the bowls held by everyone—cooked grains, some berries, and cider.  It certainly looked like good, fresh ingredients, but I thought it needed a bit more.  I turned to look back at the woman.

“Would you be able to locate a few things for me?” I asked.  Her brow creased a little.

“What is it you need, my lady?”

“Molasses and cream.  If you can warm the cream, that would be nice.  Otherwise, I can warm it here.”

“I’ll take care of it, my lady.”

“Thank you.”

I took the bowls one at a time and placed them on the table in the morning room.  Then I took the pitcher and the cups.  Though they looked upon me strangely, they did not enter Branford’s rooms and seemed to be grateful for my decree.  Before I was done, the woman from the kitchens returned with a small pitcher of warm cream and a cup of molasses.  I thanked her and dismissed them all before they could make Branford too upset.  When I looked out in the hallway as they left, I was greeted by Dunstan’s slight smile though he turned away quickly when he met my eyes.

I organized everything on the table in the morning room then added the warm cream, molasses, and berries to the cooked grains and stirred them all together.  I sampled a spoonful of the mix and then added a little more of the cream and sweetener until it tasted right.  I carried the two bowls into the bedroom where I saw Branford watching me with a quizzical expression.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, offering up the bowl.

“Definitely,” Branford responded.  He took one of the bowls from my hand and peered into it.  “What is it?”

“Grains and berries, mostly,” I said.

Branford sat in the chair and scooped some of it up, smelling it before tasting.

“Alexandra, this is absolutely delicious.”

I smiled to myself and ate from my own bowl.  It had turned out well and was quite a bit tastier than it would have been without the molasses and cream.  Branford continued to moan appreciatively and even rolled his eyes to the heavens when he took another bite.  His actions made me laugh, and he looked back at me and grinned.

“This is the best breakfast I have ever had,” he said.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

He devoured the rest without a word, with one gulp downed the cider in the mug, and informed me we must get ready for our outing.  As I donned what I hoped would be an acceptable dress for horseback riding, my husband strapped his belt and sword to his waist.  Branford pulled out a decorative blue riding jacket with gold buttons and then pulled a cloak out of my wardrobe and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“I think it will warm up nicely as the day goes on,” he said, “but I wouldn’t want you to get chilled this morning.”

“Thank you, my…Branford.”

He chuckled, then took my hand and brought my knuckles to his lips.

“Shall we go?”

“I’m ready.”

I followed my husband though the morning room with my hand on his arm.  Branford opened the door and glared at Dunstan, who continued to keep his watch over our doorway during the day.  I wondered if he had been there all night or if someone had relieved him.

“Dunstan,” Branford addressed him, “go to the kitchens and have someone bring our lunch in a basket out to the stables.  Then find out where Alexandra’s possessions from Hadebrand are being kept and bring them to our rooms.”

“Sire, I’m not to…”

Branford released my arm and Dunstan was abruptly pinned to the wall next to our door.  Branford’s left arm crossed the young man’s chest while his right hand grasped the hilt of his sword.  I let out a gasp as Branford’s harsh gaze bore into the poor man.  His voice was no less than a snarl when he spoke.

“Listen to me.  I’m taking my wife out riding, and you are not coming with us.  If you want to go have an audience with the queen on the matter, go do so yourself, but if I see you trailing behind us, I will have you drawn and quartered by nightfall.  If my mother has anything to say about it, I’d suggest she send another guard.  Probably one she isn’t too attached to.  Am I perfectly, crystal clear on this, Dunstan?”

“Yes, sire!”

“Good.  Now have someone send us our lunch and be quick about it.”

“Yes, sire!”

“Go!”

Dunstan scampered away as soon as Branford released his grip.  The fire in his eyes slowly dimmed as he watched the guard retreat down the hallway.  His gaze darted to me and narrowed slightly.  He shook his head and mumbled something about not wanting to be interrupted and then took my arm and led me through the hall, down the stairs, and out into the marketplace.  I followed, completely stunned.  He spoke to no one as we walked, only nodded with his eyes still cold and hard at a few who addressed him.  We went toward the back entrance to the marketplace, through an archway, and across a stone-paved path leading to a large building of both wood and stone with several windows.  As we approached, I heard the neigh of horses and even saw one poke its head through a window.

Branford rested his hand atop mine, which gripped his forearm as we walked through the morning sunshine to the large stables.  Though the morning was beautiful, I was having difficulty focusing on the here and now.  My thoughts kept jumping between the memories of the incredible sensations that had rocked through my body with Branford’s gentle urging and his reaction to Dunstan’s presence at our door.  The dichotomy of what appeared to be two different people in one body was confusing, to say the least, and most certainly frightening.

Branford gestured for me to go ahead of him as we reached the stable doorway, and I smiled tentatively before walking through the door with his hand placed against the small of my back.  The smell of fresh hay, dust, and manure was strong and made my nose tingle.  Two stableboys were in a stall, one busy cleaning the hooves of a brown horse with a black mane while the other tossed shovelfuls of pungent manure into a pile outside the doorway.  Branford guided me down to the last stall, which was larger than the others and filled with clean straw.  There was a bucket with water and another of oats hanging from one of the walls.  Taking up a good portion of the stall was a large, dapple-gray horse.  I recognized him immediately since it was the same horse that had carried Branford and me from Hadebrand to the abbey.

“This is Romero,” Branford said as he gestured up to the huge horse.  “I realize you are already acquainted, but I don’t think you were properly introduced.”

“Hello, Romero,” I said.  I couldn’t help but giggle and tried to muffle the sound with my hand.  Branford glanced over and raised an eyebrow at me.  The stallion snorted and bobbed his long muscular neck.

“Does something amuse you?”

“You talk about your animals as if they were people,” I said quietly.

“At least I know I can trust them,” Branford responded.  He stroked the animal’s neck before he looped the bridle over Romero’s head.  “If a dog bites or a horse kicks, each has reason to do so.  They’re acting on instinct, not a desire to overthrow your rule.  Here.”  Branford reached into the pocket of his jacket and brought out a handful of carrots.  “If you feed these to him whenever you visit, he’ll always be quite happy to see you.”

I took the carrots from Branford and shuffled them back and forth between my hands.  Romero’s head turned to one side, and he eyed my hands.

“What do I do?” I asked, feeling a little nervous.  When Branford had pulled me from the audience at the arena and sat me astride his saddle, it had been my first time on a horse, and I had never been so close to a horse’s teeth before.  They looked so big!  Romero snorted again and craned his neck, looking for the treat.  I yelped and took a quick step backward, out of his reach and into Branford’s arms.

“Careful.”  Branford’s hands rested against my shoulders as my back pressed against his chest.  “Let me help.”

He slid his fingers down my arms, and when he reached my hands, he transferred all but one of the carrots to my left hand.  He then turned my hand palm up with his hand underneath my fingers before holding my hand out to the animal.  I gasped as the horse’s lips flapped around in my palm until they grasped the carrot and quickly devoured it.  Branford moved another piece of carrot over to my hand, and Romero grabbed it as well.  We continued this way until the horse had consumed his entire snack.

“It feels strange,” I said as Romero reached forward to grab the last of the carrots from me.  He reached out again and snorted when he realized there was nothing left in my hands.  I took another involuntary step backward, pushing myself against Branford’s chest.  His hands wrapped around me, and he held me close.

“Don’t fear him,” Branford said softly into my ear.  “He may seem large and overbearing, but his nature is gentle.  He doesn’t wish to frighten you or cause you harm.”

Branford’s arms tightened around me, and his head tilted to bring his mouth close to my ear.

“Sometimes he doesn’t watch where he steps, and it’s possible you could be hurt just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he’ll never harm you on purpose.  You have provided him with his favorite treat.  He’ll always hope for more but will also be patient until you are able to provide it.”

I nodded and felt my hair catch in the rough stubble on Branford’s cheek.  I had the feeling my husband was no longer speaking about the horse at all.  I tilted my head so I could see his eyes.  His furrowed brow and expression confirmed my impression.

“He can be a little…intimidating,” I said quietly.

“He knows,” Branford replied with dark, despondent eyes.  “He’s never had to be anything else.  He needs time to adjust to you, too.”

I blinked rapidly and considered his words.  Though Branford had said he wasn’t sure what to do as a husband, I hadn’t really thought about how different having me in his life must be.  I wondered if he also worried about his own behavior toward me.  Again, my mind replayed his blazing eyes as he held me against the wall, and I shivered.

“I never know what he’ll do next.”

“Give him time to show you.”  Branford reached up to my shoulders and turned me around.  He angled himself down slowly until his lips pressed against mine briefly.  “He doesn’t know how to tell you what he wants.”

He covered my mouth in slow, gentle kisses as his hands cupped my face.  I felt the tips of his fingers tracing lightly over my jaw as his mouth captured my bottom lip, and he moaned softly.  He pressed his lips to mine once more and then placed his forehead against mine.  With his lips barely touching my mouth and his eyes still closed, he whispered to me.

“He doesn’t know what to say,” Branford said.  “He wants to show you, but he’s inept at that as well.  He needs your patience with him…please…”

“I don’t know what to do,” I said.

“Don’t give up,” Branford said as he slowly opened his eyes.  “Don’t hate me for being such an idiot those first days.”

“I don’t...I couldn’t hate you.”  I placed my hands on his shoulders and then ran my fingers down the sleeves of his bright blue jacket, tracing the gold trim along the side.

His mouth twitched in a slight smile then dropped again, and I knew my answer hadn’t pleased him.  He brushed the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone and nodded back toward the stallion.

“He’d love to take you for a ride, you know.”

“He would?”

“Yes.”  Branford’s smile was more genuine.  “He rather liked the last one.”

“Sir Branford?”  The timid, feminine voice from behind us startled me.  When we looked, a young girl wearing a white apron held a basket in her hands.  Branford took it from her without a word, and she scurried out of the stables and back toward the castle.  Branford strapped the basket behind Romero’s saddle as the horse danced back and forth on his hooves, eager to go.  A few minutes later, I was atop the massive stallion, riding sidesaddle with Branford’s arm wrapped around my middle.  He held me tight against his chest as Romero walked us both out of the stables and into the field.

“I usually take him up into the hills,” Branford said as he pointed to the woods on the other side of the field.  “He’s used to riding pretty hard, but carrying two will probably be a decent workout for him.  Do tell me if you get uncomfortable.  I wouldn’t want you to be sore later on tonight.”

Romero carried us across the wide grazing field where other horses gathered in small groups, gnawing at the new spring growth on the ground.  Branford dug his heels into the horse’s sides, and we moved to a trot as we entered the forest on a wide, clearly marked trail.  I bounced along with the stallion’s movements as he expertly avoided the roots and fallen branches along the trail.  Before long, we reached the deep part of the forest and a hillside covered in gigantic trees with mossy trunks.  Branford spurred the horse on a little faster to make it up the steep incline.  He leaned forward, tightening his hold around my waist and pushing us both down toward the horse’s neck until we reached the top of the hill.  When Branford sat back in the saddle, he still held me close.  I felt the tip of his nose as he ran it over my cheek and up to my ear.  He nuzzled against my hair and inhaled deeply.

“You smell good,” he said softly into my ear, “like flowers in a spring meadow.  It was the second thing I noticed about you.”

“What was the first?”

“Your blush,” he said as he dropped the reins and ran the back of his fingers over my cheek.  As if to prove the point, I could feel my face rise in flames almost instantly at his touch.  “I noticed your eyes as well, so I suppose it was really the third thing.”

“Shouldn’t you hold on to him?” I asked as I nodded toward the reins.  Branford shook his head, and I noticed Romero did not appear to have altered his course.

“I have to ride him while fighting,” Branford said.  “Many times I must let go of the reins in order gain the advantage.  If I could not control him without, I would be at a serious risk.”

“How do you control him?”

“With my body, especially my legs,” Branford said.  To prove his point, he sat back in the saddle and Romero came to a stop.  I felt Branford’s legs shift under me, and the horse turned around in a complete circle and then started to move ahead as Branford shifted forward again.  “It takes a lot of practice, but there are many things I can do when my hands are otherwise occupied.”

Branford punctuated his point by pressing his lips to the edge of my jaw.  He left a trail of kisses up to my ear, and I could hear him inhale deeply before he let out a long sigh.

“I don’t usually ride with a companion,” he said.  “I’ve never had a woman on my horse with me before.”

“That’s surprising,” I said and immediately regretted my comment.  “I mean…I would have thought…maybe at a tournament or something…”

Branford laughed softly and kissed my jaw again.

“No, I wouldn’t have taken any women on my horse at tournaments.”

“Why not?”

“Because Romero is very…special to me.  I’ve never had a woman in my life that I would honor with such a privilege.”

I was sure I blushed again, either from his comment or from the way his thumb stroked gently against my abdomen as we rode on up the hill and off the path.  I turned my head to see his face.

“You said there is another tournament soon?”

“Yes, in Sawyer’s lands.  He is hosting the spring tournament this year.”

“Will I…will I go with you?”

“I would like you to accompany me, yes,” Branford said.  His deep eyes gazed at me.  “If you would be agreeable.”

“Yes, please,” I said, for the idea of being here in Silverhelm with Kimberly and Nelle but without Branford was not something I desired.  Flashes of tournaments held in Hadebrand invaded my head, ending with the image of Branford on the ground with his helm knocked away.  I gasped.

“What is it, my wife?”

“What if…what if you are hurt?” I said in a breathless whisper.

Branford chuckled.

“I’ll be fighting with some of my kinsmen,” Branford said.  “It’s not a fight to the death.”

“But you could still be hurt.”

“Does that worry you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have to be very careful, then.”

Romero jumped over a large tree root, and I bounced crazily in the saddle.  Branford held me close to keep me from falling right off his steed.  We rode in silence for some time through the woods, only stopping briefly as Romero took a drink from a stream, which we then crossed as water splashed all around us.  After we crossed the water, we started up another steep hill and through a very thick part of the forest.  The trees were wide and tall, and only a very small amount of sunshine made its way to the forest floor.  The ground was thick with ferns and moss.

“Hold on,” Branford said.  The warm breath from his words coated my ear.  I gripped his arm around my waist and he kicked the horse’s sides.  We were suddenly moving very fast up the last part of the hill and then even faster as Romero leapt over a large, moss-covered tree trunk that had obviously fallen some time ago.  I cried out and gripped Branford tightly as he laughed quietly in my ear.

Bright light erupted in front of us as we suddenly broke out of the trees and into a small, secluded meadow in the middle of the forest.  The sun shone down on us brightly.  The whole area was covered in buttercups, clover, and violets, and the mesh of purples, yellows, and greens was heavenly.

“Do you like it?” Branford leaned off to one side so he could look at me straight on.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.  His returning smile was nearly enough to knock me from atop the horse.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said.  “It’s one of my favorite places.”

“I’ve never seen any place like this.”

Branford swung from the saddle and landed with a thump on the ground.  He reached up and brought me down gently to the soft greenery below my feet.  I half stepped to one side, afraid of crushing the delicate flowers under my feet.

“Are you hungry?” Branford asked.  He pulled the basket from the back of the saddle and then retrieved the blanket that lay across the stallion’s flanks.  Branford laid the blanket out on the ground, and though I worried we would crush the flowers beneath us, Branford promised me they would be as good as new the next time we came to this place.  He tossed the reins across the saddle, smacked the animal on the rump, and Romero meandered off to stand by a tree and nibble at the clover beneath it.

We sat and Branford opened the basket.  I quickly went through the food packaged inside, preparing anything that needed to be prepared and organizing the breads, fruits, meats, and cheeses I found there.  I poured Branford wine from a flask, and he lay down on his side and propped himself up on one elbow as he told me about finding the little meadow years ago while hunting with his dogs.  Now he brought Romero up here because it was good exercise for the horse, and it gave Branford time to think.  When I asked him what he thought about, he just shrugged and said “many things.”

“It’s a good place to clear my head without all the demands of the castle and people swarming around me,” he said.  “My thoughts here are my own and not influenced by others.  Camden has told me many times about the importance of making the right decisions though I’ve certainly failed in that respect a few times.  There are many who try to force their will on me, offer their council, or push me to take one side or another.  This is my place to get away from all of that.  A place where I can make decisions on my own.”

Branford rolled to his back and then sat up with his knees bent.  He turned his head and looked at me through the lashes of his half closed eyes.

“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he said.  “As far as I know, no one else has ever been here.  At least, not that I’ve ever seen.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I thought you might like it.”  Branford shrugged and started pulling clover leaves by their roots from the dirt.  “I find it relaxing, and I thought that…well, with everything you have endured since meeting me, I thought you might like some peace.”

He took a swig of wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It is peaceful here,” I said.  “Thank you for bringing me.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this place,” he said.  His eyes held a twinge of anger and a lot of mistrust.

“Of course not,” I replied.  I reached over and touched his forearm.  He glanced down at my hand and then back to my face.  “I wouldn’t.”

He nodded and even smiled after a few moments had passed.  He placed his hand over mine and then brought it up to his lips, gently kissing each of my knuckles in turn.  I felt the heat rise up my neck though it had nothing to do with the sun shining down upon us.  He clasped my hand between both of his and held it in his lap for a while before releasing me long enough to pack up the uneaten food back into the basket.  Branford set the basket off to the side and out of our way.  He leaned his arms over his knees and yanked a few more tufts of clover leaves out of the ground.  He reached out and pulled one of the flowers by the end of its stem and tucked it behind my ear.  He smiled at me as I grabbed up a few other flowers and twisted their stems together until they formed a necklace.  Branford took it from my hands and examined it before placing it over my head.

“You are so different from every woman I have ever known,” he said suddenly.

My stomach lurched, and I wondered what I was doing wrong.  It occurred to me that he might think making a flower necklace to be quite childish.  I hadn’t made such a thing since I was young, and Princess Whitney would have me make them for her and place them on her head like a crown.  When I didn’t make it the right length, it would fall from her head, and she would have me punished.  I shook my head at the memory and looked back at Branford.  He was several years older than me, and I thought he might not like such a playful display.

“Don’t look like that,” Branford said, his tone chastising.  “I mean it as a compliment.  I’ve never enjoyed the company of princesses for very long.  Once I had…spent some time with them, I was never interested in being in their company again.”

I knew what he meant when he said “spent some time,” and I wondered just how much time he had spent and with how many.  Did I really want to know such a thing?  I did not, but when I considered I would travel with him to tournaments, I thought maybe I should know.  What if I met with someone else—someone like Lady Kimberly—and I didn’t know if Branford was “acquainted” with her or not?  I could be put into a position where I would embarrass him again, and I didn’t want that to happen.

“How many, um…I mean, how many women…or who…”  I stammered, blushed, and wondered if there was any way to get the words back into my mouth.

“How many women have I bedded?”

“Yes,” I whispered.  I suddenly did not want the answer, potential embarrassment or not.

“Nine,” he said bluntly.

“Nine?” I gasped.

“Are you shocked it is that high or that low?”

“Low,” I said without thinking and then covered my mouth with my hand.  Branford laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in the sound.  “Are they all in the court here?”

“No.” Branford’s eyes grew dark, and he shifted on the blanket where he sat.  “You already know at least one who does not live in Silverhelm.”

“Oh, yes.”  I had forgotten about Princess Whitney.

Branford let out a long, slow breath and rubbed his fingers into his eyes for a moment.

“Kimberly and Nelle are the only women in Silverhelm I have…indulged,” Branford said, “and I never took either of them to my own bed.  You are the only woman who has ever been there.  All of the others I have met and entertained either before or after tournaments in other kingdoms around the realm.”

“Were they all princesses?” I asked.  I felt my curiosity was approaching morbidity, but I wanted to know even though I didn’t want to know.

“All but one, yes.”

“Who was she?  Where was she from?”

“The daughter of a duke,” Branford said, his words clipped.  “Up north somewhere—Seacrest, maybe?  Her name was Bridgett, if you must know.  Really, Alexandra, what difference does it make?”

“If I’m going to travel with you, I would rather not have any surprises.”

Branford stared at me a moment, and his eyes darkened.  I felt my shoulders tighten, and I hoped I had not offended him.  He looked away from me and off into the trees near where Romero grazed.

“You make a valid point,” Branford finally conceded.  “Would it be all right if I just warn you before we get to a particular kingdom?  My guess is most of them have been married off by now anyway.”

“How could they be?” I asked.

“How could they be what?”

“Married,” I said.  “If you…well…if they are not virgins…”

“Oh, Alexandra.” Branford sighed.  He reached over and took my hand and then brought it to his lips.  He kissed my fingers and then held my hand in both of his.  “Most men are not virgins on their wedding night, and just who do you think is cavorting with them?  Yes, if it’s found out a woman isn’t a virgin, then the husband could annul the marriage because any children could have their heritage questioned.  It’s also a wonderful excuse not to marry someone you didn’t want to marry in the first place, but it happens all the time.  Usually it requires nothing more than an adjustment to the dowry and a waiting period.”

For what seemed to be the tenth time that day, I was shocked.  Always, I remembered hearing that a girl was practically useless as a wife if she had already been bedded.  How many times had the nobles in Edgar’s kingdom told us as much?  Edith and Shelly were always told they had to do their very best at their work, for if they did not, there wasn’t a man in the kingdom who would have them.  Hadley and I were also informed that we would be given to a man if we did not do exactly as we were told, and therefore we would be ruined for any potential suitor.

But now, to hear Branford say that it was not only acceptable for nobles but common?  I had no idea what to even think.  So many of the things he said simply did not seem to fit everything I had always been told.

“But everyone always said…”

“They say that to try to keep commoner women from being bedded too soon,” Branford said.  “If she was to be with child, and there was no husband to care for her, she would end up either the responsibility of the castle or begging in the streets.  For nobles, it’s simply an embarrassment.”

Branford shifted slightly and looked off into the trees again, still pulling at bits of clover on the ground.  He appeared to be deep in thought, so I stayed quiet and listened to the sounds of the chirping birds and the light breeze through the trees until he spoke again.

“I have one night to make up for,” Branford said softly.  He reached out, and his fingers trailed down the sleeve of my dress until he touched the skin on the back of my hand.

“What do you mean?”

“I promised you three nights until I made you my wife in the final sense of the word,” he said, clarifying.  “That should be tonight, but since I am a cad and an idiot, I messed up one of them.  If I could make up for it now…well, I could stay on schedule.”

“Now?” I repeated.  I was suddenly quite aware of the openness of the meadow.  I felt very exposed as I looked around, as if someone might have appeared from the woods since I last looked up.

“We don’t have to, Alexandra,” Branford said.  He traced over the edge of my jaw.  “I have to admit I’m pressing because I want to know if I have even begun to make up for my behavior toward you.  I never know what’s happening in your head, and it drives me near to insanity.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What do I mean?  For the love of God, Alexandra, you will be the death of me.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.  I dropped my gaze to the ground.  “I’m not sure what you want me to do.”

Branford sighed, closed his eyes, and shook his head.  He rubbed his eyelids with his fingers then swallowed hard and looked straight at me.  He pulled both of my hands into his and shifted so he was facing me straight on instead of sitting beside me.

“Please,” Branford whispered.  “Will you lie down with me?  Right here on the blanket?  I want to see your skin in the sunlight, and I want to touch you again.  I want you to touch me again.  Please, Alexandra.”

I looked at my hands clasped in Branford’s grip, up to the horse at the edge of the meadow, and then to the trees around us.  Of course, there was no one there.  Though I felt like I was being watched, I knew it was only my own uneasiness.  Branford was asking me to shed my clothing for him—out here, in the open, where someone could certainly stumble upon us, however unlikely.  I remembered what he said about wanting me in the garden at the castle and even on the throne.  My skin began to tingle, and that strange, throbbing feeling made its presence known at the apex of my thighs, reminding me of the incredible, blissful feelings he had brought forth with his fingers on my flesh.  In my mind, I heard a small, previously unheard voice peep out and say “outside be damned.”  I wanted to feel like that again.

And that is when I first knew how much I wanted his touch.