The Consummation Read online

  Unexpected

  Circumstances

  Book Three: The Consummation

  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 THREE: The Consummation

  Chapter 1—Abruptly Change

  Chapter 2—Slowly Explore

  Chapter 3—Regretfully Question

  Chapter 4—Finally Consummate

  Chapter 5—Abashedly Interrupted

  Chapter 6—Inelegantly Fail

  Author’s Notes

  More Books by Shay Savage

  About the Author

  BOOK THREE: The Consummation

  With steady patience, Sir Branford teaches his young wife the pleasures to be found in their marital chambers. Though still unsure of herself, Alexandra begins to open herself to the possibilities and opportunities of her new life. As Branford expresses his desire to have more than a marriage of political contrivance, Alexandra finds facets of her new husband that promise protection, loyalty, and maybe even love.

  As she gains a deeper understanding of her husband, Alexandra soon discovers there is more to being Sir Branford’s wife than sharing his bed. Queen Sunniva had told her to be “noble of heart,” and when the lives of aristocrats rest in Alexandra’s hands, she finally begins to understand the importance of her position in the court and in her husband’s life. Soon, Branford begins to appreciate how valuable a gift Alexandra is to his kingdom.

  Chapter 1—Abruptly Change

  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 a
round 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 appreciativel
y 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?”