“Relieved?”
“That you…um…you seemed to like it.”
“Like it?” Branford huffed and then let out a single, sharp laugh. “Alexandra, that was simply incredible.” He
brushed strands of hair from my forehead. “Did you think I would not?”
“I didn’t know,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. “I had never…been with a man in such a way.”
He played with the strand of my hair caught between his fingers, and his lips mashed together as he scowled at the lock, making me wonder if he was somehow angry with the stray piece of hair. He released it, and sighed heavily.
“I am pleased that I will be the only man to ever touch you in this way,” he said suddenly. “If someone had taken you before me, I would have overlooked it, but I am very glad that is not the case. I think I would be inclined to seek out anyone who may have touched you, and at least make sure I was the only living man to have had you.”
I turned and looked into his eyes, trying to determine if he meant the words as a joke. I knew immediately that he did not, and I shuddered. Branford tilted my chin upward, and he looked down at me.
“I know your virginity belongs to me,” Branford said, his words becoming somewhat desperate, “but tell me—did any man ever lay a hand on you at all? Touched you? Kissed you? Anything?”
I shook my head.
“Only you.”
“Good,” he murmured. “For the sake of us all, be sure it stays that way.”
I was confused for but a moment until I understood exactly what he was implying. Horrified, I gripped his shoulders again, my eyes wide.
“I would not…I would never even consider such a thing,” I cried out, praying to whatever God he worshipped that he would believe me. “You are my husband. I belong to you alone.”
“If I knew another man looked at you, I would not take it well.”
I could only nod in response, having a pretty good idea what kind of reaction my husband might have. He would kill for so much less. It was not a sight I ever wished to see.
“In fact,” Branford said, “I have the feeling I might become quite infuriated with jealousy at the very thought.”
I turned to him, and his eyes were narrowed.
“I would never look to another. Never, Branford.”
“I know you would not,” he said quickly, “but if another man were to dare approach you, you must tell me immediately.”
“I will,” I promised.
He looked at me before nodding his acceptance of my words. He turned away from me for a moment, but I could still see his eyes in the candlelight—blazing like the fire across the room. He mumbled something under his breath, but I could not understand his words.
“I am yours, Branford,” I told him again.
“I know,” he said quickly. He looked back to me, and his eyes softened. “And I am yours, Alexandra. I will be faithful to you.”
My heart began to pound in my chest again. I had not truly considered it, other than knowing I did not want him to spend his nights in the company of another woman. I vaguely remembered something in the words he spoke to me in front of the altar regarding fidelity, but the entire day was difficult to remember in any specific sense. But now he was promising me again, here alone where there was no one to judge his words, to remain faithful to me, his commoner wife. And I wanted it. I wanted him to be mine alone.
He touched my cheek with the edge of his hand and tilted his head as he gazed down at me. He focused on his hand as his thumb brushed my chin and pulled my lower lip from my teeth.
“We may not have what Camden and Sunniva have now,” he said quietly, his eyes darting quickly to mine, “but we could—someday. I know I will never be an easy man to live with, but I will be good to you. I will try to control my temper with you and—God willing—I will have…have feelings for you…in time.”
As I looked up at the strong, handsome man lying on top of me and listened to him recount his own version of marital vows, I tried to understand what it actually meant to me. Branford was asking me to truly be a wife to him—suggesting that someday we could be in love with each other. I could not deny wanting such a thing, but despite our current position, I knew so little of the man who had taken my body. Some of the things I did know of him frightened me terribly, but I had also seen not just a more tender side of him but the side of him that knew pain and suffering.
Could I also have feelings for this man, my husband? Could I grow to even love him someday?
I wanted children. I even wanted his children though the reasons in my head for the thought were unclear. They would be beautiful; I was sure of that, but I could not be sure what other reason I may have had. Perhaps because they would tie me to him in a way no one else would ever experience. My children with my husband.