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Unexpected Circumstances - the Complete Series Page 6


  Parnell chuckled low.

  “I think I know what the problem is,” he said.

  “And what is that, oh wise one?”

  “You like her, Branford,” Parnell said. “That wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

  Branford scoffed.

  “Just how do you think you will be able to conduct yourself with a wife at your side after you have won a tournament?” his cousin said, pressing the issue. “Do you think she would be oblivious of your activities away from home?”

  “She would be there,” Branford said. His hand on my arm shifted, and I wondered if he had shrugged his shoulder. “Why would I need to look for another?”

  “Because she might not be ready yet?” Parnell inquired.

  There was another long silence as the horses pulled us along the stone road.

  “I’ll not push her,” Branford finally said. “She’s probably only heard tales of how it can hurt, and I intend to show her there is another way, but she likely will not believe me.”

  “You do like her.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “You will have to gain her trust somehow.”

  “Yes,” Branford murmured. “Somehow.”

  The rain picked up again, the large droplets making a terrific noise against the roof of the carriage. For several minutes, we continued down the road, Sir Parnell and Branford in silence, and me contemplating his words and trying to grasp some meaning from them. I was being used as a political pawn—he had admitted as much—but did my ears deceive me? Was my husband’s intent to start a war with Hadebrand? And I was a…what did he call me? A catalyst? What did that mean? Could I really be considered an enemy of Hadebrand, the only home I had ever known?

  The carriage must have hit a rut during my thoughts, for it was suddenly bouncing crazily, and I would have been tossed from the seat were it not for Branford’s strong arms grabbing my shoulders. I could not help but cry out in surprise.

  Branford helped me sit back upright, his hands continuing to hold me steady.

  “Are you unharmed?” he asked.

  “Yes, my lord,” I replied. “I was only startled.”

  “Wasn’t the most pleasant way to awaken, was it?” He looked straight into my eyes, and I remembered his comment from this morning and the feel of his bare skin on my cheek. I felt the heat rise to my face, and Branford traced the edge of his thumb over my jaw. His eyes took on that darkened green hue and seemed to sparkle at me. He smiled and whispered a single word. “Lovely.”

  I sat back on the carriage bench and tried not to look as awkward as I felt. Branford and Sir Parnell continued to meet each other’s eyes but not speak. There seemed to be an unnamed tension between them, which I knew was because of my presence. They spoke freely when I was resting, and I had to admit to feeling guilty over my deception. They clearly believed their conversation had been private, and I had listened in. I wondered if I should confess my deception to Branford and how he might react if I did. Would it not be worse for me if I did not tell him, and he found out on his own?

  “We’re nearly there,” Branford said, gracing me with his half smile. “Look out the window. See the line of trees? That is the end of Hadebrand and the beginning of the Kingdom of Silverhelm. We’ll reach King Camden’s castle in time for dinner.”

  “Did you send a messenger?” Parnell asked.

  “No.”

  “They have no idea?”

  “They do not.”

  “I think I’ll refrain from dinner, then.” Parnell sat back, and his face wore a scowl. He stared out the window in silence.

  “Coward.”

  “Idiot.”

  Branford laughed as I gasped. I could not fathom how Sir Parnell could possibly consider insulting Branford. Did he not call him “sire” earlier today? Obviously, my husband had not taken offense.

  “You are cousins?” I asked softly, trying to understand their relationship.

  “Distant ones, yes,” Branford said with a nod.

  “My father’s wife was second cousin to Branford’s mother,” Sir Parnell informed me. “After Branford’s parents were…gone…he lived with us a short time before coming to Silverhelm.”

  I looked to Branford and saw him staring out the window at the rain, his expression blank. Though I was most curious about his parents, it did not seem the best time to press the subject. Perhaps in time when I felt more comfortable with him, I would inquire further. I wondered how long that would be.

  Would I ever find comfort with him?

  I recalled how I woke both this morning and in the middle of the night. Branford had been kind and gentle, but upon hearing his words to Sir Parnell in the carriage, I wasn’t sure what I should think. Yes, he had been gentle to me thus far, but he also seemed to be plotting war against Hadebrand. I cringed at the thought. Hadebrand had been my home, and I could not help but feel a certain amount of allegiance to King Edgar.

  “Will you give your unwavering loyalty to me, my kingdom, and my God?”

  Sir Branford’s words echoed through my head as did my response to him, and I felt myself blush. Branford’s eyes shifted to me, looking at me quizzically, which only increased the heat on my cheeks. His look, so intense with his bright green eyes, gave the impression he could hear what I was thinking, and I realized my thoughts had approached disloyalty. If he could have heard them, he would have had every right to be angry.

  The rain finally ended, halting the pitter-patter sounds on the roof. I looked down at my lap and wrung my hands together as we passed by the line of trees and entered the kingdom where my husband was prince. Gooseflesh scattered across my arms, and I felt a chill run down my back. What would this new place hold for me?

  Branford reached over and placed his hand over mine.

  “Are you nervous, my wife?” he asked me softly. Though the carriage was far too small for Sir Parnell not to overhear, Branford seemed to be attempting a private conversation. Sir Parnell looked steadily out the window, ignoring us.

  “Somewhat, my lord.”

  His finger traced over my cheek, and for a moment, I closed my eyes to the feeling.

  “I think they will find you quite captivating,” he said, “just as I have. Once they get used to the idea, of course.”

  “The idea, my lord?”

  Branford snickered softly.

  “The idea that the prince is returning home with a commoner wife,” he stated succinctly. “It will take time for them to accept you, some longer than others.”

  “I understand,” I replied quietly. I did understand—far more than I wanted. If the nobles of Silverhelm were anything like those of Hadebrand, and they undoubtedly were, they were not going to appreciate my presence in their midst. I turned my head away from him, and the feel of his fingers against my cheek was quite distracting. He would have none of that, apparently, and took my chin in his hand, turning me to face him.

  “You are my wife, Alexandra,” he stated simply. “I will defend your position.”

  “Yes, my lord.” I had no choice but to believe him.

  His eyes held such intensity that I was unable to look away. He moved his thumb to my lower lip and traced a fine line across it. He leaned forward slowly, his eyes remaining steadfast on mine until his mouth reached my lips, and he placed a gentle kiss there.

  “My wife,” he said softly when he broke away. I could only nod in agreement. His lips met mine one more time before he sat back and grinned at me. “We are nearly home.”

  It wasn’t more than a few minutes before the carriage came to an abrupt stop right in front of King Camden’s castle. Branford opened the carriage door and jumped to the wet earth below. I started to follow, but just as I was about to step to the ground, one of the horses took a step forward, pulling the carriage slightly and causing me to lose my balance. Though I could see Branford’s shocked look and his attempt to grab for me, it was too late. I tumbled into the mud below.

  And that is how I arrived at my new home.


  Chapter 5—Warmly Welcome

  I cried out as I watched the puddle of mud come closer and closer to me. With my feet tangled in my skirts, I could do nothing to stop myself except to put my hands out and hope for the best. Of course, I fell flat on my face. For a moment, I couldn’t speak or even breathe as water splashed all around me, flying up into the air and coming back down to land all over my back. I pushed up with my hands and coughed as water dripped from my face and hair and then back into the puddle where it started. A thousand thoughts went through my head at once, starting with whose dress I might be wearing and how I was ever going to get it clean to finishing with wondering if Branford might decide to dismiss me, based on my propensity for accidents. I was so stunned and mortified, I couldn’t even answer Branford when he called to me.

  “Alexandra!” Branford cried. “Are you hurt?”

  I just coughed in response.

  “Alexandra!” he called again. “Have you been injured?”

  “No, my lord,” I finally managed to mumble. Injured, no. Horribly embarrassed and feeling about as small as I could be, yes. I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, and Branford grabbed me by both of my arms, easily lifting me to my feet. I was drenched in dirty brown water, and the dress I was wearing would surely take hours to clean. I chanced a look into Branford’s eyes. They were blazing hot green, and I could only imagine this was what someone’s eyes looked like when they were actually seeing red. I thought I could feel his hands shaking slightly as they gripped my upper arms.

  Branford leaned close to me and ran his thumb over my cheekbone, which he had done several times now. I was not accustomed to having a man touch me in such a way. Indeed, I didn’t think anyone had ever touched me in any similar way, and I had rarely been touched by a man at all. It was a strangely tender action, and I didn’t know exactly what to think of it, especially when he was obviously so angry. I only knew it sent strange and unfamiliar tingles through my skin where he touched. He gripped my arm tightly with his other hand, likely afraid I was going to lose my balance and embarrass him further. I remembered our talk from our wedding night, his expectations of me and how I was to conduct myself in such a way as to not shame him. I had only been in his kingdom for a matter of minutes before I had failed.

  “I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Hush,” he said with a growl, and I obeyed. “Are you sure you are all right?”

  “Yes, Branford,” I said softly, looking into his green eyes as they looked upon me. He used his fingers to wipe the water from my face and smooth out my hair. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “We’ll enter around the back.” He took a step backward and gave me a small smile, his eyes softening somewhat. “Parnell can find my sister, and she’ll get you something else to wear before you meet Camden and Sunniva.”

  “I would like that,” I said and sighed softly in relief. I could not imagine what the King and Queen of Silverhelm would think of me if I met them for the first time in a muddy dress, as if I hadn’t done enough to humiliate Branford already.

  Branford ran his fingers through my hair once more and straightened it before he leaned down to brush his lips against my forehead. Then he turned quickly, his eyes going instantly dark again. He walked with purpose to the front of the carriage, reached up with one hand, and yanked the driver from his seat. Holding the man by his collar, Branford pushed him against the front of the carriage and drew his sword.

  “Have you no skills with your horses at all?” His voice was a low snarl in his chest. He placed the tip of his sword at the driver’s throat. “Can you not control them? Do you see what you’ve done to my wife? Get on your knees!”

  The poor man dropped to his knees in front of Branford, begging forgiveness and mercy. Branford yelled at him to be silent, and the man dropped forward, his palms to the ground. Branford took a step back and raised his sword. I suddenly realized his intent—he was going to kill the man for my clumsiness.

  “Branford, no!” I cried out.

  “Alexandra, stop!” I heard Sir Parnell’s voice but paid him no heed. I ran to Branford’s side and wrapped my hands around his sword arm.

  “Please, Branford!” I begged. “It was an accident—please!”

  I felt his hard, tense bicep muscle under my fingertips as I gripped him as hard as I could. I could feel his arm shaking under my fingers from the exertion of staying his hand. I knew if he decided to swing, there would be no way I could stop him, but I kept my grip regardless.

  “You could have been hurt,” Branford said, his voice cold and hard. I could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke, not taking his eyes from the prostrate man at his feet.

  “I wasn’t,” I said, reminding him.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that his carelessness could have injured you,” Branford said. “I’ll not have anyone cause you harm!”

  “I’m fine, Branford, please,” I said again. “Please, don’t do this.”

  For several, silent seconds, Branford’s gaze flickered from the driver to me and back again. He didn’t move, save the motion of his chest as he breathed heavily. I wanted to beg him, as the man at his feet was begging him, silently with my eyes, though I didn’t know if he could read the plea in my expression. Finally, Branford took a step back and his arm dropped.

  “Be thankful to the lady,” Branford commanded the carriage driver. “She saved your life.”

  Branford pulled his arm easily from my hands and stalked back toward Parnell, sheathing his sword as his purposeful strides took him near the castle gate. The driver grasped me around my ankles, thanking me over and over again, swearing his life to me if I should need it. I stepped back, disengaging myself from his hands. He tilted his head up to me, tears still in his eyes. I took another step back, but the driver grabbed for me again. I didn’t want this…this…I didn’t know what this was. This man was like me—a servant who lived and potentially died at the whims of those nobles above him—and it was my clumsiness that had endangered his life. He shouldn’t be thanking me; he should be infuriated with me.

  “Alexandra!” Branford called without turning to look at me.

  “Yes, my lord,” I responded automatically. It was hard to draw air into my lungs as I took another step back and turned to walk as quickly as I could to catch up with Branford and Sir Parnell. Branford immediately reached for me and grasped me firmly on my arm, pulling me close.

  “We will talk of this later,” Branford said into my ear.

  “My lord, I only—”

  “Later!” he growled.

  I tried to keep my nerves calm as we walked swiftly under the huge portcullis which served as the main gate, Branford’s hand still on my arm. He veered to the left, toward a stone hallway and staircase, but before we got there, we were approached by a boy in messenger’s garb. He ran up to us, and Branford glanced over his shoulder to speak quickly to him. “Tell my uncle we will meet with him shortly.”

  “King Camden said he wants to see you immediately upon your arrival, sire,” the messenger indicated. “He was quite clear on the matter.”

  Branford stopped short and growled under his breath.

  “You are just going to have to go as you are,” he said, glancing quickly over my mud-stained dress. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. They will understand you fell.”

  I wasn’t sure if I believed the words, especially considering my husband was about to execute the man he thought responsible for my clumsiness. What if Branford told them the driver was responsible, and King Camden demanded his life? One look at Branford’s face told me I had already taken too many chances today, so I remained silent. Of course, he didn’t even know of my eavesdropping and nearly disloyal internal ramblings. Again I considered confessing what I heard though now was certainly not the right time. I looked down at my splattered outfit and cringed. If I had to meet his uncle in my current state of dress…well, there was nothing I could do about it.

  We turned again, and Branford
dropped my arm as he followed the messenger down a large corridor, lit with torches along the grey stone walls. Banners like those from the wedding reception hung evenly spaced down both sides of the corridor. Long before we reached the end, I could see two massive wooden doors looming ahead of us, stretching from the floor to the high ceiling. As we approached, the guards on either side met in the middle of the doors and pulled them open.

  “They are currently holding court,” one of the guards told Branford after bowing low to him. “They are all in the main hall.”

  Branford nodded his acknowledgement and glanced over his shoulder to me.

  “Walk behind me on my left,” he said quietly. His lips turned up in a smirk as he glanced toward the heavens. “God be with me.”

  I moved to walk a step behind his left shoulder, figuring this was something I could at least do correctly. Sir Parnell moved to stand to his right, and Branford led us both through the gigantic doors and into a grand hallway with incredibly high ceilings. Both sides of the hall were filled with people—all in clothing far too spectacular for anyone other than a noble. I continued to follow dutifully behind my husband as we entered the grand hall and made our way across the woven carpets of black and gold. I kept my eyes on the ground, partially because Branford had not divulged to me if I should look up, but also because I could feel the eyes of all in the court as they stared at me. I didn’t want to be able to see their looks as well. I could only imagine what they must think, for my mud-stained dress made me look exactly like what I was—a dirty commoner who had no business being here. This was a place meant only for the likes of me if there was cleaning required. I tilted my head down, and my hair fell across my shoulders, effectively hiding at least part of my face from the onlookers. Unfortunately, that did not stop my ears from hearing some of their hushed words.

  “Who is that?”

  “What is she doing here?”

  “What happened to her clothes?”

  Though it would have been more in my nature to blush, I instead felt all color drain from my cheeks, and my stomach was quite uneasy. I glanced up just a little—peering off to one side as we approached the king and queen of Silverhelm. There was a small set of stairs at the end of the hall leading up to the dais where the king and queen both sat on their thrones. Aside from the many nobles standing to one side of the hall or the other, a small, dark-haired woman stood next to the Queen, her eyes glancing quickly from Sir Parnell to Branford to me. There were two other women standing just to the bottom of the stairs with mouths agape, their eyes boring into me unabashedly. One had beautiful, straight, silver-blonde hair, while the other’s hair was a more golden hue. They both had stunning features and beautiful clothing.