The Apprehension: Unexpected Circumstances Book 6 (5 page)

I heard Sunniva’s sigh and felt Branford’s arms tense around me.

“Get the cloak, Branford.”

Branford growled under his breath, and I did not have to open my eyes to know what expression went with his exacerbated sigh.  He stood and slowly turned to set me down in the chair before he brushed his lips over my forehead.

“I will return shortly,” he stated as he walked off.

“Alexandra,” Sunniva said as she reached out and took one of my hands in hers.  “How long have you felt like this?”

“Just a few minutes,” I answered.

Ida came back with a cup of water and a small bowl of apples and pears.  She held the cup to me as I took a drink, and then I bit into one of the pears.  I did begin to feel better almost immediately.

“What about yesterday?” Sunniva asked.  “Did you feel ill then?”

I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

“I did,” I admitted, “but only for a moment.”

“And did your stomach empty itself?”

“No,” I replied with a shake of my head.

“Did it feel as though it would?”

I bit into my lip for a moment before I nodded.

“But I did not get sick,” I said, emphasizing the words.

“Alexandra?” Ida asked softly.  She laid her hand on the top of my shoulder, and I turned my head to her.  There was a slight smile on her face.  “When were you last in the Women’s Room?”

I looked down to the ground because in the back of my head, I knew it had been longer than normal, but I had refused to speculate on the reason.  If I thought about it, and it ended up being not true…Well, I could not handle any additional disappointments when it came to that subject.

“It has been…a while,” I finally whispered back.

Branford gasped and then dropped to his knees in front of me.

“Alexandra?” he said softly, his bright green eyes staring into mine.

“It is too soon to say,” I replied, my voice still quiet.  I bit my lip as tears brimmed over my eyes and down my cheeks.

Branford’s eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to my stomach.

“You are,” he said quietly, and his voice was full of wonder.  When his gaze met mine again, his eyes sparkled like green emeralds with their intensity, and the smile that slowly spread across his face made them glow.  “You are carrying my son.”

And that is when I knew I was with child.

“It might not be a boy, you know.”

I felt Branford’s arms wrap around my waist as he leaned his chest against my back and kissed my ear.

“It could be a girl,” he said quietly, “but the child is a boy.”

He rested his hands on my hips, and he reached around and wiggled his fingers at my sides.  I laughed and pushed his hands away so I could finish dressing.  Once I had the dress up around my shoulders, Branford quickly laced up the back of the bodice—a chore which he had adopted since I had yet to find a new handmaid.  In reality, he had become as adept at tying up the laces of my dresses as he was at
untying
them. As he finished, he trailed his fingers around to my front where they gently rubbed my belly.

As soon as Branford had overcome his shock the previous night, he had carried me to our rooms and lay me down in the bed.  For hours afterwards, he held me and stroked his hand over my stomach though there was not yet any visible evidence of what we presumed was hidden inside my womb.

Branford turned me around and placed his lips on my forehead.

“I will love our child, be it boy or girl,” Branford said as he looked down at me.  “It is not so much that I have a true preference though a male heir must come eventually.  I will cherish any child from your body, regardless.  I just…I feel that he is my son.  I am sure of it.”

I raised my eyebrows a little as I examined his expression.  There was no doubting the sincerity of his words. I only wondered how he could be so sure and hoped he would not be too disappointed if our first child was a girl.  I reached up to place my fingers against his cheek, and Branford turned his head to kiss my hand.  As I watched my husband’s eyes, they became intense and dark though seemingly with worry and not desire.  He took my face in his hands and leaned forward to press his lips against my mouth, kissing me deeply for a long moment as I wrapped my arms around his neck.  When he broke away, there was still anxiety in his eyes.

“Branford, what troubles you?”

“Do you know how tempting it is now,” he said softly as his fingers brushed over my cheek, “to lock you away in some tower where no harm can come to you?  It will take all of my strength to stop myself from doing just that.”

His gaze settled on my stomach for a moment before it met my eyes again.

“Though Silverhelm does not, Sterling Castle has such a tower.  At least, it did before Edgar tore it apart.  Perhaps it is best I have no control over it, for if it were still in my possession, I would undoubtedly make use of it.”

I worried my lip, biting it and tasting Branford on me in the process.  I considered his words and wondered if he truly meant them.  By the look in his eye, I had to admit I would not have been shocked to have him consider such an action quite seriously.  I tried to push the thought from my mind and distract him from such ponderings as well, for the idea of being locked up in a high tower in such a way caused a shiver to run through my body.

“Did someone live there?” I asked.

“That is where our guards—my mentors—lived,” Branford said.  “The ones who betrayed my family.”

He lowered his hand down my body until it reached my midsection, and he placed the palm of his hand over my stomach as I covered his fingers with my own.

“I did not think you could become more precious to me,” Branford said, “but you have.”

His lips brushed mine once more.

“I love you, Alexandra.”

“I love you, Branford,” I replied.

Branford smiled and took my hand before leading me first to breakfast and then to the practice field.  I took along my sewing and spent most of the day working on a shirt I was making for my husband out of the green silk he had purchased for me when we were first married.  He had bought so much fabric, I wondered if I would ever use it all.  Then it occurred to me that I would now have someone else to whom I could devote my sewing skills.  I smiled as I held up Branford’s shirt, already considering how I would make one to match in a much smaller size.

I touched my belly as I leaned back and looked out over the field.  A young recruit from the borderlands swung his sword haphazardly at Parnell as the experienced knight danced away effortlessly.  Branford further instructed the young man though the novice did not appear to be grasping the proper movements, and I could see my husband’s frustration in his stance.

Eventually, he waved the young man away, drew his own sword, and attacked Parnell.  The two went at it for several minutes, and I must admit I found it hard not to watch the muscles in Branford’s arms and back as he swung his sword.  I found myself daydreaming of the previous night as the same hands had caressed my body so gently.

A call from the road distracted Branford from his battle and me from my fantasy.  All eyes in the field turned as Sir Rylan rode up on his steed with a farmer’s cart behind him, a pair of slow mares pulling it steadily over the muddy road.  Sir Rylan’s arm waved in the air, and I stood to accompany Branford to where the knight had brought his horse to a halt.

“I have a gift for you,” Sir Rylan said.  He looked at me for a moment.  “Perhaps Queen Alexandra should return to the castle first.”

“My queen stays at my side,” Branford told him.  “What gift?”

“I would like to discuss the terms of the gift first, if we may.”

Branford’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at our ally.

“Explain.”

Sir Rylan swung his leg up and over the saddle and dropped down next to his horse.  Michael stepped forward and grasped the reins, moving the large animal off to the side and out of the way.

“You asked for the heads of Lady Kimberly and Sir Leland,” Rylan said.  “You have offered a substantial bounty for them both—more if brought to you alive.”

“I have,” Branford said with a nod.

“I want you to remove the bounty on Sir Leland.”

“Because he is of your blood?” Branford asked as his upper lip curled into a sneer.  “Lady Kimberly is of my own blood, I will have you know.  It will not prevent her from receiving punishment for her treachery against my kingdom!”

“Not because he is of my blood, no.”  Sir Rylan took a deep breath as he looked off toward the cart.  “However, my uncle favors him.  My uncle will still provide you with men, but he wants the price on Sir Leland’s head lifted.”

“He was part of this plot,” Branford said with a growl.  “You heard it from my own cousin’s mouth.  He was part of it from the beginning.  He interfered with a royal bloodline.  How could I possibly let that slide?”

“I intend to compensate you for it,” Sir Rylan stated.

“How?”

“You will cancel the bounty?”

“What compensation?” Branford said, demanding an answer.  “What could possibly be offered in return for this grievous favor?”

“In return, I will give you this.” Sir Rylan took a few steps backwards until he reached the edge of the cart.  Branford followed and we all peered into the back as Sir Rylan yanked back a rough blanket that covered a form lying in a pile of straw.

It was Lady Kimberly—bound and gagged in the back of the farmer’s cart.

“I need no other payment,” Rylan added.

Though I could feel the tension vibrating through the air as Branford’s hands clenched into fists, I was too consumed by my own thoughts as I looked down at the woman.  Nelle’s words entered my head in a rush, reminding me that it was Kimberly’s conniving and information about Branford’s past that allowed Janet to exploit my sympathy and compassion and allowed her treachery into our rooms.

It was Lady Kimberly’s plot to kill Branford’s children as they tried to grow inside of me.

In an instant, my mind traveled to a place it had never before encountered.  My vision became focused on the woman in the cart, and my limbs tensed as my throat constricted.  She was the one who started this plan by revealing information about Branford’s past to his enemies.  She was the one who devised the idea to kill Branford’s children, to deny him an heir, and to force him to take the concubine he did not desire.

A screech unlike any heard before came from my lungs as I lunged onto the cart and began pounding my fists into the former noblewoman’s face.  She cringed back, as if she could bury herself within the straw below her, but I was unrelenting.  She had no escape, and my hands burned and ached as they made contact with her head and shoulders.

I felt arms gently encircle my waist, but I paid them no heed—I just continued to rain blows down upon the woman below me.  Even as the arms pulled me backwards off the cart, I screamed incoherently at her as I reached out as far as I could, trying to inflict whatever damage I could to the horrible woman who caused all of this suffering.

“Shh…hush, my wife.” I heard Branford’s voice as I struggled against his restraint.  “She cannot harm you now…remember who you carry inside of you.  Do not be upset; do not endanger our son with your anger.”

His words stilled me, and I no longer fought as he pulled me away from the wretched view of the woman in the cart.  After he dragged me several feet, he stopped, turned me around to face him, and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

I let my cheek press into the cool links of his chainmail shirt, finding the feel of the armor on my skin strangely comforting as tears streamed down my face.  I fought back choking sobs as Branford continued to run his hand over my hair and whisper quietly in my ear.

“Kill her,” I choked out.  “I want her to die.”

“I shall,” Branford said, making his words a promise.  “She will.”

Footsteps approached us.

“What do you say to my bargain?” Sir Rylan asked quietly.

I felt Branford’s body stiffen, and he was as still as a statue for several moments.  He glared down at the woman in the straw, and the muscles of his jaw clenched.

“I will lift the bounty,” Branford said softly, “but that will not spare Sir Leland’s life should I come across him personally.  Whether he is in my lands, in your own, or at tournament—if I see Sir Leland again, he will die by my hand.”

“Understood, King Branford.”  Sir Rylan took a step forward and offered Branford his arm.  Branford reached out and grasped the other knight’s forearm.

My husband took a slight step toward the cart, and I could see Lady Kimberly’s body still and her eyes widen as he approached.  The side of her face was bruised, and there was a small cut on her lip from where I had hit her.  He looked down at her with as much hatred as I had ever seen.

Branford brushed his hand down my arm.

“Alexandra,” Branford said softly and without looking in my direction, “return to our rooms.”

“I want to stay,” I told him.  I reached up to brush tears from my face.

“No,” Branford said with a shake of his head.

“She did this to me, too!” I yelled back at him suddenly, and Branford turned—his fingers gripping my shoulders.

“You are not staying for this, my wife,” he said most adamantly.  “After Janet, you had nightmares, or do you not remember?  I will have nothing jeopardize my son!”

I glared up at him.  It was true. I hadn’t slept for a week after Janet’s execution, and every time I walked past a fire, the smell of charred flesh invaded my memory.

“I want to stay,” I repeated.

“Absolutely not.”  Branford called over to Michael to take me back to the castle, refusing to look me in the eye.

I grabbed for Branford’s hand and moved myself back into his line of vision.

“I am not to leave your side,” I reminded him.

He looked directly at me.

“Alexandra,” he repeated, “I want you to return to our rooms.  Stay there until I come for you.  Michael will accompany you and remain outside the door.”

“What are you going to do?” I demanded.

Branford’s eyes blazed for a moment but then tightened and darkened.

“I’m going to slowly and publicly torture her to death,” he stated.  “I do not want you to see what is going to happen to her.  Once her head is on a pike at the front of the castle, you’ll be able to see the results, just as everyone will.”

I steeled myself and tried to stand up taller.

“I want to be there,” I insisted again.  “I want to know what is done to her.”

“I will tell you,” Branford said, “but you will not watch.”

“What will you do?” I asked, pressing him for an answer.

Branford’s eyes further darkened.

“She is going to suffer,” Branford said as he snarled through clenched teeth.  “She is going to suffer because you have suffered.  Because I have suffered.  Because all of Silverhelm has suffered for what she did.”

“But I am not to be away from you!” I said again.  “If you are there, I must be there as well.”

“I want her blood on
my
hands.” Branford growled low as he stared at the helpless woman in the cart.  Kimberly’s eyes brimmed over with tears as she cried almost soundlessly into the cloth tied around her mouth.  “But it is not a good place for you…for our child.”

“Branford…you promised,” I whispered and immediately looked away from him.  I could feel the heat in my cheeks as the words came out of my mouth.  What I was doing was horrible, but I could not bear the thought of him doing such a thing without being there myself.  If I had to use his words against him to make sure I also witnessed her punishment, I was willing to do so.