The Consummation

  “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.