Branford’s eyebrows rose as he peered at me. He laughed through his nose.
“Then I would be taking you every night and every morning without fail,” Branford said, and his words sounded like a promise. His gaze darkened and his mouth turned up in a smile. “You would likely wake to my hunger in the middle of the night as well.”
“I will have to find some way to disposed of them, then.” I heard myself say the words, and I bit down on my lip, instantly horrified at my brazenness. Branford was still beside me, and when I let my eyes glance quickly to his, I could see the return of his appetite.
“Just your suggestion has made me hard for you again.” He confirmed his words as his body pressed close to mine, making it clear to me that he was quite serious.
A moment later, he was on top of me, his mouth and hands seeking and finding my breasts, stomach and sides. He growled against my skin, moaning something about how good I tasted and not needing anything else for breakfast, then crawled back to look me in the eye. He stared down at me for a moment while I reached out and ran my fingers over his rough cheek.
A knock at our door coaxed a different sort of growl from my husband’s chest, and he barked at the kitchen servants to leave our morning meal in the outer room and get out. Though the curtains around the bed were drawn back on the side nearest the fireplace, the end of the bed, which faced the morning room, was still significantly covered. I didn’t think the attendants would be able to see us even if they did walk all the way in
to the bedroom, but I attempted to hide myself under the blankets and Branford’s body anyway. As soon as the door closed behind the kitchen staff, his mouth was on my breasts again—licking and sucking them between his lips as he took me again.
And again.
A while later, on unsteady legs, I warmed breakfast near the fire. I was pleased the kitchen servants had brought cream and sweetener without my asking so I could fix Branford’s meal the way he liked it. Branford washed, dressed, and ate while keeping his eyes on me. Every time I looked at him, he was staring at me, which made me blush scarlet and made him smile. I gathered the dishes together and placed them on the tray in the morning room when something caught my eye. On the small table next to the fireplace was my mother’s bowl. I immediately remembered Branford saying my things had arrived, and when I looked at the small bundle of objects, the bowl was the only thing I truly saw.
I picked it up and held it in my hands. The bowl was unlike any I had ever seen. The wood was smooth, and there were distinct lines where one kind of wood met another—blond woods and dark woods, mahogany and oak segments seamlessly swirled together and spiraled up to the rim. I could not help but smile as I held it to my chest for a moment before placing it back on the pile of clothing that had accompanied it from Silverhelm. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever been able to call my own and the only thing I had of my family. It was both decorative and useful, and I hoped Branford would let me place it on the nightstand where I could look upon it often. I decided I would ask him later.
When I came back into the bedroom, Branford was standing near the bed and running his hands through his hair. I walked up behind him, wondering what had him so focused, and saw the pink stain on the sheets where we had been.
“Branford...” I squeaked as realization hit me.
“Do not concern yourself, Alexandra,” he said sternly. “I shall take care of it.”
“Someone will see,” I whispered. I could feel the tightness in my chest, and I was having difficulty drawing breath into my lungs. “They will know.”
“Hush,” Branford said. His tone was harsh, but his touch was soft as he held me to his chest for a moment before kissing my temple. He took my face between his palms. “Trust me, my wife. I told you I would protect you in this matter, and I will. Did you think I had not considered it before now?”
He removed his hands and walked across the room to one of the wardrobes. He opened the wooden doors and brought out clean linen sheets that appeared nearly identical to the ones on our bed. He raised his eyebrows at me and tossed the sheets into my arms. Within only a few minutes, he had the stained sheets nearly completely burned in the fire, and I had the clean sheets spread out on the bed.
“Now we will have to make sure they look well-used,” Branford informed me. I looked up as his eyes bored into me and his words became clear in their meaning. He stalked across the room toward me, and a few minutes later, my dress was on the floor, and I was again supine beneath my husband’s body.
I heard another sound at our door and glanced over Branford’s shoulder to see none other than his sister standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. I gasped and tried to duck myself underneath my husband and hide from her eyes. Branford reached behind himself and drew the blankets up over our bodies.
“One of these days…” Branford mumbled as he glanced over his shoulder and yelled at his sister. “Ida, I told you not to come barging in here anymore!”
“Good morning to you too, Branford,” Ida said, raising an eyebrow at him. It was the same expression I had seen on Branford’s face before. She smiled at me though I was still trying to hide behind her brother. “Hello, Alexandra. Is my brother still being an ass?”
I took a sharp breath; any words I may have had suddenly caught in my throat. Branford grumbled under his breath, his forehead resting against my shoulder.
“Um, no,” I finally mumbled, trying not to allow my words to sound like a question.
“Ida!” Branford yelled over his shoulder. “Get out of here, or all you are going to see is my ass.”
“I was sent by our mother, I’ll have you know.” Ida crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her head to one side. “It is nearly midday.”
“Speak her message and leave my room.”
“Mother wants you to know dinner is early tonight, and she expects you there,” Ida said. “Parnell wants to know if you plan on jousting tomorrow.”
“Fine and yes,” Branford said with a snarl. “Anything else?”
“I would like to…” Ida’s voice trailed off, and I saw her lean to the side so she could see me better. “This afternoon, if Alexandra would allow me, that is, I would like to help her prepare.”
Branford’s eyes turned to mine.
“Alexandra?” he asked softly.