“I’m sorry, Branford,” I said. “I don’t remember my parents, so I never really mourned for them. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you and Ida. I’m sorry.”
Branford’s eyes softened as they shifted to look into mine, but his jaw remained clenched. After a moment, I saw his throat move as he swallowed before he spoke.
“You had better finish with me,” he said. “I’m sure there’s something Ida is expecting me to do, and if I disappoint her again, I will never hear the end of it.”
I gathered up my tools again, quickly finished the last spot on his cheek and then moved to his chin and upper lip. Once those were complete, I probed his skin with my fingertips, checking for any spots I might have missed. I found none and bit down on my lip to keep from smiling at myself. I took the last towel from the basin and covered his face in the heat again. I let Branford sit with his face covered for a moment while I cleaned the tools I had used, removed the wet towel, and gently patted him dry with a clean one.
“Excellent,” Branford said as he smiled broadly. His hands ran over his face while his eyes looked at me. “Thank you, my wife.”
“Anytime you wish, Branford,” I replied.
“You will spoil me, I think,” he said with another smile.
“Am I not supposed to?” I inquired. Branford laughed.
“Whether you are supposed to or not, I hope you continue.”
I nodded but could no longer contain my smile. Branford rose from the chair and stepped closer to me.
“I want to kiss you,” Branford said abruptly. He reached up and pulled my face closer to his. “Is that all right with you?”
“Yes,” I said, my breath already gone. “You don’t have to ask me for that.”
He smiled, raised his eyebrows, and then touched my lips with his very softly and briefly. I opened my eyes to find him staring intently into them, the green of his irises deep enough to lose myself in them. He kissed me again with a little more force.
Branford placed his hands on my hips. He pressed against my mouth as his body pushed me backwards until my shoulders touched the cool stone wall behind me.
“Do you remember what I said last night?” he asked. “About trusting me?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Trust me now?” His words were both a question and a command, so I nodded and tried not to let any of the fear that lurked in my belly show itself in my eyes. Branford took my chin in his hand and leaned close, looking directly at me. “I’m not going to hurt you, Alexandra. I swear it. I just want to touch you like I did last night.”
I nodded again, and Branford’s head dipped, and he placed his lips against my throat, sucking softly on the skin there. My breaths started coming in pants almost immediately.
His gaze took me in, first looking over my face, then darting to my lips and lower. He moved his hand quickly up the length of my arm and to my shoulder. He moved slowly across my neck before dipping lower, grazing my collarbones on the way back.
“I want to touch you lower, Alexandra. Do you want me to stop?”
Lower…lower? What did he mean by lower?
“I don’t think so,” I finally said as I wondered what in the world I was agreeing to let him do to me. Part of my brain said it didn’t matter. Whatever he wanted to do was just fine. There was one thing I was sure of at that moment—I did not want him to stop.
He moved his hand over the top of my breast once more, on top of the fabric of my clothing, and then very, very slowly, his fingers crept over my entire breast until his hand reached the bottom edge and curled his fingers around, lifting my breast into his hand as his thumb traced over the center, causing it to tense and tighten.
But it wasn’t just the nipple he touched that I felt tightening.
I felt the muscles of my thighs also clench, and a strange, unfamiliar feeling that started in the pit of my stomach, slowly worked its way downward as Branford’s thumb gently massaged the nipple of my left breast. My legs moved closer together of their own accord, and the feeling became more intense and focused on a spot directly between them.
“Do you like that, Alexandra?” Branford’s mouth ran along my jaw, and his thumb graced my nipple again. “When I touch you here…do you feel it in other places? Do you feel it between your legs, my wife?”
“Yes.” I was panting. How did he know? How could he possibly know what my body was doing when I didn’t understand it myself?
“Do you like the way that makes you feel, Alexandra?” Branford’s hot breath invaded my ear. “Do you want more from me?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know!”
Branford chuckled softly.
“I know what you want, and I want to give it to you,” he said. “I want to teach you what it is you want from me.”
He nipped lightly with his lips at the skin of my neck, down to my shoulder, and then back up to my ear. He traced the edge of my ear with his tongue before he whispered again.
“Tonight,” he said quietly so I had to strain just to hear his words. “Tonight I’m going to touch you where you’ve never been touched. Slowly and gently, Alexandra…so gently…and then you’ll understand what it is you want from me.”
*****
Having missed breakfast altogether, I found myself in the Women’s Room with Ida, eating a simple lunch of breads, cheeses, and berries while my brain turned somersaults. I considered Branford’s words to me over and over again. Between his promise from the previous night and those right after I had shaved him, my head was a maypole of twisted emotions.
Ida discussed my hair with a young woman named Ramona. After some conversation between the two of them, I found my head dunked in water and then washed with mead, of all things. I sat near the window and combed it, as Ida instructed me to do, until it was dried from the sun. I was surprised at how soft it was and wondered if it would feel different to Branford when he ran his hands over it tonight.
Tonight.
I felt my body tense at just the word, which echoed through my head with a memory of his breath in my ear. The tension—so different than it had been when I thought of him before—ran up and down my torso with the remembered movements of his fingers over my skin. I shivered, shook my head, and tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand.
“I think she should wear it up,” Ramona was saying.
“I’m not so sure,” Ida replied.
“It will show off her neck, and she has a lovely neck.”
“Very true.” Ida nodded in agreement. “We should probably hold it up simply, because Branford is just going to want it down when he gets her back to their rooms. I know my brother’s preferences, and he likes hair long and flowing. He’ll want to be able to take it back down again without a lot of fuss.”
“What about those combs Queen Sunniva gave you for your birthday?” Ramona suggested. “Would they work with the dress?”
“Anything would work with the dress I have picked out,” Ida said with a laugh. “No one will even notice what’s in her hair—they will be too focused on the dress!”
For as long as they discussed me, I wondered if I even needed to be in the room. I did end up with my hair affixed to the top of my head, twisted and coiled around in the back before it was held in place by a luxurious set of combs.
“Perfect,” Ida finally said after fussing with a few loose strands for what seemed like an hour. “I have to go check on your dress. Sunniva is hemming it for you. I’ll send a couple of the girls up to your rooms soon to help you dress, all right?”
“Of course,” I said with a nod.
“I’ll try to be there as well, just to make sure everything is as perfect as your hair.” Branford’s sister gave me a big smile. “I have a thousand things to do though, and Branford won’t let anyone else help him dress. I can’t wait for you to come into the hall. You are going to look so elegant and so noble, no one is ever going to question you.”
I tried to smile and believe her words, but I had some difficulty. Most of the nobles had already formed a first impression of me, and I doubted anything Ida could do at this point would change that too drastically.
“At the very least, Sir Branford is going to have a hard time keeping his hands to himself before the dancing,” Ramona said with a giggle.
I knew I was blushing but kept my gaze to the ground. It would be several hours before the reception, and I was already concerned about how well my hair would stay in place and if the dress would truly be to Branford’s liking.
“I have to get downstairs,” Ida said. “The dinner is complicated, and I want to make sure it’s right before they get too far along. Alexandra, go on to your rooms. I’ll get your dress sent there as soon as it’s ready.”
“Yes, Ida,” I responded and headed back to the rooms I shared with Branford. I walked carefully to keep from disturbing my hair. Along the way, I worried over the mechanics of getting a dress over my head without messing up all of Ida and Ramona’s hard work.
Our rooms were empty, and I wondered if Branford had also spent his day with someone primping and preening him, but I doubted it. Ida said he didn’t let anyone but her help him. I wished there was something useful I could do to pass the time, but everything I considered seemed too great a risk to my hair. I couldn’t even bring myself to add another log to the fire for concern it would dirty my hands, which would then need to be washed. If I washed my hands, they would end up wet. If my hands were wet and I accidentally reached up and touched my hair, it would be ruined.
I had never had the occasion to concern myself over such things before. The actual wedding probably should have been the first time, but everything had happened far too quickly for me to think about it much. The remainder of my afternoon was spent taking slow, deep breaths to keep myself from crying alternating with all the various ways I might embarrass myself or Branford during dinner. In retrospect, I should have done the hemming of the dress myself if just to give me something to occupy my mind.
There was a knock at the door, which surprised me. I wondered if Branford had spoken with Ida again about coming in without knocking first, but I somehow didn’t think she would listen to him. I opened the door slowly and was taken aback by who stood on the other side.
It was the beautiful golden blonde from the garden along with the other attractive noblewoman who had stood with her in the throne room the day before.
“Hello, Alexandra,” the golden-blonde said. “I’m Kimberly, and this is Nelle. Princess Ida sent us to help you dress.”
For the first time, I noticed the bundles of creamy-colored fabric with light blue trim held by Nelle, who stood a little behind the taller woman.
“I thought Ida was coming to help,” I said quietly. I didn’t like the idea of this woman in the rooms I shared with Branford. Though Branford assured me their conversation the previous night had not been about me, I was uncomfortable with her presence. I just didn’t want her here.
“Princess Ida was detained. She’s working on some last minute changes to the decorations or the food or something. Regardless, she can’t be here and sent us instead.”
Nelle shuffled from one foot to the next.
“Come in, please,” I said once I realized I had just been standing there, staring at them. They both flitted past me and went straight to the changing area.
“I see Branford has redecorated since I was last here,” Kimberly said as she looked at me out of the corner of her eyes and then glanced back at the bed. “I suppose that was needed.”
Nelle covered her mouth to muffle her laughter as I felt a cold chill run through my body. I wondered how many times Kimberly had been in Branford’s rooms and just what they had done here.
“I have your dress right here,” Kimberly said, distracting me from my thoughts. “I know Sir Branford will just go crazy when he sees you in yours! The fashion is the very latest, and I can’t believe Ida managed to get all of us dresses in this style.”
Taking the fabric from her counterpart, Kimberly held the dress she and Nelle had brought with them up to my shoulders. I couldn’t really get an idea of the exact look of the outfit as she held it to me and rather assumed there were several layers to it since Nelle walked past us and began to hang additional fabric over the changing screen.
“Come along,” Kimberly said as she turned me by my shoulders and guided me to where Nelle stood. “You can help Nelle and me dress, and then we will help you. You don’t mind, do you? I mean—you have a lot of experience with such things, yes?”
Nelle giggled.
“Yes,” I said quietly as I tried not to feel offended by her remark. It wasn’t that she insulted me, but I felt affronted for Branford, knowing he would not have approved of her words. Determined not to let them know I was bothered, I held up the first dress, still looking around to see where the rest of it might be. All three of the dresses were nearly identical with only the color of the trim signifying the difference. What was most odd was the cut of the dress, which appeared to be very low across the front, and the sleeves themselves didn’t appear to be complete at all.
Doing as they instructed, I first assisted Nelle and then Kimberly into the strange attire, growing more and more uneasy as the efforts continued. Once they were dressed, they both helped me into the outfit while I kept my eyes to the ground, both from my own uncertainty and also because I felt as if I were intruding on their privacy.
Their dresses showed their entire necks and the tops of their chests, even to the point where the slight dip between their breasts was clearly visible. The whole outfit was held up by gathered cloth wrapped around their chests, with other matching gathers around the tops of their arms, but their shoulders were completely bare. The garment’s sleeves ended just below the elbows, and though it fell nearly to the floor, the fabric was light and showed much of their curves when they moved from side to side. When I looked down at myself and saw an almost identical dress barely covering my body, I was truly horrified. This couldn’t be right—it just couldn’t be.
“This is the dress Ida wants me to wear? The one Queen Sunniva hemmed for me?” I asked, incredulity overwhelming me.
“Would I be here with it if it weren’t?” Kimberly snipped back at me. “Come on, now. Let’s make sure it’s the right length.”
She knelt down and fiddled around with the hem, shaking it slightly before letting it billow back around my legs. She declared it of the exact right length before standing again to face me.
“Where is the rest of it?” I asked quietly, for surely I was missing something here. There was no way I was supposed to wear such a thing in public. The garment was much more likely to be reserved for a wedding night, not a wedding reception. Even then, it was far more revealing than the nightdress I wore the first night I was with Branford.
“Don’t be so old-fashioned,” Kimberly said with wide-open eyes and raised eyebrows. Nelle laughed, her hand coming up to cover her mouth again. “This is the latest fashion, and we are all going to be the talk of the court for at least a month. The princess only brought five of these back from Sawyer.”
“Who will wear the fifth?”
“The queen, of course.”
“Queen Sunniva will be dressed like this?”
“Of course!” Kimberly exclaimed. She nudged Nelle, who began to nod emphatically.
“The queen has always had an eye for clothing,” Nelle informed me.
“And she wants me to wear this?” I was really having a hard time believing this wasn’t some kind of jest, and I found myself caught between the risk of not wearing what Ida and Sunniva intended me to wear and how uncomfortable I would be wearing something that clearly showed so much of my skin. Even as I stood there with the other two women in very similar dresses, I couldn’t believe we were all planning to be seen in such things outside these chambers. Would Branford want me to wear such a thing? “I just don’t know if I can…”
“Look, A
lexandra,” Kimberly said with an exasperated sigh, “I’m trying to help as a favor to Sir Branford, but you are obviously too stubborn or just too ignorant to understand. If that’s the way you are going to be, then fine, but I’ll just have to tell Sir Branford you are refusing any help.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied, her sharp words stinging me. My mind told me to stop being such a fool—there was a noble here trying to help me, and I was all but refusing her assistance. I reminded myself that this was a different kingdom with different customs from what I had been exposed to before, and I needed to fit in. “I’ve just never worn such a thing before.”
“Trust me,” Kimberly purred as she leaned a little closer to me and tilted her head. “I know exactly what Branford likes, and this is going to drive him wild.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but her tone and emphasis on Branford’s name without his title did not leave me with a feeling of comfort. However, I didn’t want her to think me ungrateful, so I nodded quickly.
“Let me fix your hair a bit,” Kimberly said as she adjusted the combs and smoothed out a few escaped strands.
“We’re ready in record time!” Kimberly exclaimed. “You should wait about an hour, and then come in the main entrance. Do you remember how to get there? Or do you want me to send an escort to bring you?”
“I remember, Lady Kimberly.”
“Good!” she exclaimed, and her eyes brightened. “We’ll see you at dinner, then.”
She quickly hustled Nelle out the door and closed it behind her, leaving me in this most revealing dress with no idea what I was going to do to occupy myself for the next hour before I was to enter the main hall. Since I couldn’t bring myself to even look down at my dress, I stared at the wooded area visible from the windows closest to the bed I now shared with Branford. I couldn’t even bring myself to think of what he might do with me later that evening, for when I did, I was mortified to see my blush was not just on my face, but on the top of my chest as well. If I blushed during dinner or while we were dancing, it would be clearly visible to anyone who looked.