The Seduction

  Unexpected

  Circumstances

  Book Two: The Seduction

  Shay Savage

  Copyright © 2016 Shay Savage

  All Rights Reserved

  Editing : Chayasara

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without the express permission of the author, Shay Savage —except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations embodied in a review or critical writings.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Table of Contents

  BOOK TWO: The Seduction

  Chapter 1—Tenderly Nurture

  Chapter 2—Profusely Apologize

  Chapter 3—Grudgingly Recount

  Chapter 4—Increasingly Establish

  Chapter 5—Cooperatively Learn

  Author’s Notes

  More Books by Shay Savage

  About the Author

  BOOK TWO: The Seduction

  As Alexandra tries to conform to her new life, she soon discovers that betrayal lies inside the castle walls. When noblewomen plot against her, Alexandra ends up on the receiving end of Branford’s rage. Earning the trust of her wary husband will be no easy task for the young handmaid.

  Branford may know his way around their bedchamber, but he’s finding himself ill-prepared to handle the duties of both prince and husband. His missteps bring down the wrath of the queen, and he will have to do everything in his power to atone for his transgressions. Branford must find a way to open his heart to his new wife if either of them has a chance of overcoming the treachery ahead.

  Chapter 1—Tenderly Nurture

  For the second morning in a row, I awakened to warm arms wrapped around me and the slow, steady heartbeat of my husband under my cheek.

  With his hand, he stroked slowly from the top of my head all the way down my hair and almost to my waist before he lifted his hand and started at the top again. He stroked my hair over and over, the motion almost lulling me back into slumber. In contrast to the tumult of emotions I had felt when I lay down with him at night, I found waking in Branford’s arms to be strangely relaxing and quite pleasant. He was warm, and lying with my head on his chest was so comfortable, I felt at ease and couldn’t help but smile a little to myself.

  I lay motionless for a minute or two, trying to collect myself internally as memories of the previous night flooded back into my head—from the words I heard in the garden, to my continued concern over our lack of consummation, and then to the soft, gentle touches Branford left on the tops of my partially exposed breasts. There had been a strange and unfamiliar tingling feeling over my skin for several minutes after he had stopped touching me, and just thinking about his fingers sliding over my skin so close to an intimate area of my body made my heart beat faster.

  Feeling Branford’s lips touch the top of my head and hearing his intake of breath against my hair, I swiftly brought my thoughts back to the present. Deciding there was no real point in delaying, I tilted my head up to meet his eyes and his slight smile.

  “Good morning, my wife,” Branford said.

  “Good morning, Branford,” I replied and then quickly looked away, feeling shy and blushing when I looked into his eyes. It made the memories of his lips on my skin overwhelm me again, warming my skin. I looked to the windows and saw the sun shining through the cracks in the shutters, so I knew it was well into the morning. It had been very late by the time I had slumbered, for it had taken some time for my body to recover from Branford’s touch enough to relax into sleep. “It’s late.”

  “Yes.” Branford’s shoulders moved up and down casually. I looked back at him, and he was still smiling. “There’s no rush today though, and I do like waking with you in my arms.”

  “Have you been awake long?” I asked, hoping my words would divert focus from my almost permanently pink cheeks.

  “A while,” Branford said with another shrug. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “You have?” Again, I looked away from his eyes and felt heat rise to my face. Wondering what the specifics of his thoughts might entail, I tried to remember what I might have done either last night or during my sleep.

  “Yes.”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No!” Branford sat up and pulled me with him until I was sitting beside him on the bed with his hands on my shoulders. “Why would you think that?”

  I took a deep breath. Why did I think that? Because everything I had done thus far had been wrong, that’s why. I had angered and embarrassed my husband, causing him to go to another woman on just the second night of our marriage because I couldn’t bring myself to lie back and smile while he claimed my body. Ultimately, I was afraid because doing the wrong thing could cost me my life—if not in one way, then in another.

  “Because I haven’t done anything right,” I finally said. “Because I’m…inadequate.”

  “Inadequate?” Branford scoffed. “Alexandra, I have no idea why you would say such a thing.”

  “I haven’t…we haven’t yet…” I stopped and took a deep breath. Branford found my chin with his hand, and he looked deep into my eyes.

  “We talked about this last night,” Branford said. “You offered yourself to me, and I made the decision to wait.”

  “Because I wasn’t ready,” I clarified.

  “You aren’t ready because I haven’t made you ready,” Branford said definitively. “So it was my decision and my responsibility.”

  “I embarrassed you in front of King Camden,” I whispered.

  “Again, because I didn’t prepare you properly.”

  “You were angry about the carriage driver,” I finally said.

  Branford’s fingers tensed against my shoulders.

  “Yes, I was. I can only hope it was an accident, and I didn’t let a traitor live because you felt sorry for him.”

  “A traitor?”

  “Yes, a traitor,” Branford growled.

  “I only lost my balance,” I said quietly.

  “Which would not have happened if he had kept his horses still,” Branford insisted. “I’m definitely watching him now. If he steps out of line again, I will not stop at your whim.”

  I tensed at his harsh words and felt Branford’s hand stop at the lower part of my back, no longer stroking my hair.

  “I’m still…lacking…in what you need from me.”

  “Alexandra, I don’t understand.”

  The door to the morning room opened before I could respond. Branford let out a low groan as Ida walked into the bedroom, stood at the very end of the bed, and put her hands on her hips.

  “Ida, for the love of God, you can’t just walk in here anymore,” Branford said, growling at his sister. He pulled the blanket up over my shoulders, partially hiding me from view.

  “I thought you might like more than a couple of hours’ notice,” Ida said with a shrug, obviously not concerned about her intrusion. “Good morning, Alexandra.”

  I mumbled a response to her though she may not have heard it through the blankets.

  “I’m throwing a reception for you tonight,” Ida said, “since the first one was obviously a complete mess according to Parnell’s description. You need a good one, and since I’m leaving with Parnell to go to Sawyer in two days, it will have to be tonight. Mother said it would be a good way to introduce Alexandra to the court officially, anyway.”

  “Parnell’s leaving?”

  “Yes, he said you spoke about it.”

  “Oh, right. We did.” Branford sat up a bit and rubbed his eyes with his finger
tips. “I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this.”

  “Not a chance.” Ida crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Fine,” Branford grumbled. “Now get out!”

  Ida waved at me before she turned around and headed back out the open door, shutting it soundlessly behind her.

  “A reception?” I finally said.

  “There’s no way of avoiding it,” Branford said. “Once Ida has her mind made up, there really is no way of stopping her.”

  “Tonight?” The concern in my voice must have been noticeable.

  “Don’t worry, my wife.” Branford smiled at me. “This one will be easy for you.”

  “What will I have to do?” I asked.

  “It will be a dinner, much like the reception after our wedding, only a bit more ostentatious, I’m sure. Ida goes overboard when it comes to such things though they do end up being the talk of the kingdom afterwards, so she must do something right. It will be a feast, and you will be the last one to enter. You’ll join me to eat, and we’ll dance afterwards. Nothing to worry about at all.”

  “What should I wear?”

  Branford laughed.

  “I haven’t any idea at all,” he said. “I’m sure Ida will find someone to advise you, though. She probably has a wardrobe picked out for both of us by now.”

  “It really is late,” I said, glancing at the shuttered windows. “I should get up and…”

  I didn’t really know what I should be doing, so my sentence trailed off. I was used to keeping myself busy all the time. I started to push myself away from him, figuring there was something I should be doing instead of sleeping, but Branford’s arms tightened around me.

  “Stay,” Branford said, the word sounding more like a question than a command. “Ida will undoubtedly do everything that needs to be done, so there is no rush right now. Please…just lie here with me a while.”

  Branford lay down on his back and pulled me close to him again. I nodded and lay my head down against my husband’s chest. He immediately moved his hand into my hair again with his fingers pulling lazily through the strands. My thoughts returned to the night and the feel of Branford’s gentle touch and compared them to the slow draw of his fingers through my hair.

  “What are you thinking?” Branford asked quietly. “I find you so difficult to read, and you’re not very forthcoming with information. Tell me what you are thinking that makes your eyes shine like that.”

  Heat rose to my face, and I tried to tuck my head into the crook of his arm, but he held my chin and turned me to face him.

  “Don’t hide. What are you thinking?”

  “I was just thinking about what you said,” I told him. “I like waking up with you, too.”

  “You do?” Branford beamed at me, letting out a breathy, relieved laugh.

  “Yes.” I was sure my face blushed a deeper red.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that,” Branford said. “Honestly, I had just about come to the conclusion that you didn’t care much for me at all.”

  “Why would you think such a thing?”

  “You hardly look at me,” he said, his smile quickly gone from his face. “When I saw you with my mother, I think that was the first time I had seen you really smile, and you stopped as soon as I walked in. You’ve barely told me anything about yourself, and every time I touch you, you flinch as if you think I’m going to do something horrible to you.”

  Though his grip remained holding me to face him, I still shifted my eyes away from his gaze. Part of me understood that a lifetime of ingrained behaviors could not be changed overnight, but I would have been lying to both him and to myself if said I wasn’t made nervous by the touch of his skin on mine. It was too unexpected—not necessarily unpleasant, but foreign and strange. I probably hadn’t spoken to more than a handful of men my entire life, and all of them in the royal family, or very close to them, at Hadebrand. None of them ever touched me intentionally though—not once.

  “Why, Alexandra?” Branford tilted his head way over to the side and looked at me straight on. “Am I so hideous to you?”

  “No!” I said emphatically.

  “Then why?”

  “I don’t know,” I said softly. “I can’t even manage to get your title correct. I have no idea how I’m supposed to talk to you either alone or with others.”

  “I don’t understand,” Branford said, shaking his head. “Just talk.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I answered.

  “Please, just tell me what you want to say.”

  “I’m frightened of you,” I blurted out.

  Branford’s brow furrowed, and he glanced away from me.

  “What frightens you?” he asked.

  “I don’t want you to be angry with me,” I said, admitting my fear. “You said we would talk later about the carriage driver, and we haven’t, and I don’t know what you are going to do when you’re angry with me.”

  “What do you think I will do?” Branford asked.

  “You’re a prince,” I replied. “You can do anything you want.”

  Branford sighed and lifted his hand to run through his hair. He closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment.

  “None of this is going right,” he mumbled to himself, and I felt panic immediately rise to my breast. Despite my efforts from before, he was going to send me away.

  “Please don’t get rid of me!” I finally cried out and then covered my mouth with my hand, horrified.

  “Oh, Alexandra!” Branford shook his head. “Why would you think such a thing?”

  I had to look into his eyes because he sounded so sincere, and I needed to understand.

  “Because I’m not good enough,” I said. “I'm only a handmaid. I don't know how to be your wife. I have no idea how to behave as the wife of a prince.”

  “Alexandra,” he said, slowly drawing my name out. “I'm not going to send you away.”

  “You could,” I whispered, “or worse.”

  “Alexandra,” Branford repeated, his voice nearly as quiet as my own. “Have I given you any reason to think I would do such a thing?”

  Sunniva’s words about assertiveness and being noble of heart came back to me. Maybe he hadn’t said as much in my presence, but he hadn’t said anything to the contrary, either.

  “You haven’t given me reason to think you would not.”

  “Why would I cast you out?” Branford asked.

  Did he want me to list all the reasons again, or was he looking for something else? I was certain I had spent more time second-guessing myself in the last two days than I had in my entire life.

  “You have…you could…there could be someone else you want to choose instead,” I whispered.

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  I took a deep breath and decided if I didn’t say it now, I probably never would.

  “I saw you…last night,” I said, hesitating a moment. I took a deep breath. “You were with that pretty woman from the court.”

  I felt his chest muscles contract under the side of my face, and his arms gripped me tighter for a moment before he relaxed again.

  “What do you mean, you saw me?”

  “You were in the garden,” I said. “While I was waiting for you, I went out to see what it looked like at night. You were there…with that lady.”

  “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!”
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  “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.