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“My mouth, my lord?” I asked, confused again. “When you…kissed me at the altar…that was the first time…”

“Never mind, my wife,” Sir Branford said softly, his fingers stroking my cheek again. “You shall remain as you are until you are ready for me.”

“But it's...it's our wedding night,” I whispered.

“Are you saying you wish to consummate our marriage now?” he asked, and that half smile crept across his face again. “I'm more than willing, my wife, but frankly, you look rather petrified. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me, and I certainly don’t want you to be frightened of me. When you are ready, you come to me, and I will take you to my bed. Until then, I can be patient.”

His soft laughter filled the room.

“Actually, I think you may want to sleep in my bed this night,” Branford said with a chuckle. “Otherwise, you would be stuck with the floor, and it’s getting cold.”

“I can sleep on the floor, my lord,” I told him. “I have before.”

“Alexandra!” Sir Branford’s voice turned harsh, causing me to flinch slightly. “My dogs don’t sleep on the floor. You are my wife, and I will care for you the way you deserve.”

“I’m sorry, my lord.” It was apparent the idea was not to his liking.

“Alexandra,” he said again, “we are wed. How long do you plan on addressing me by my title?”

“But you are a lord, my lord, and heir to the throne. How else should I address you?”

“When we are alone, you may address me by my given name,” he said. “In public, I normally prefer Sir Branford over lord, but…actually”—he paused, grazing my cheekbone with his thumb—“I think I rather like hearing you call me ‘lord.’”

His quiet laughter filled my ears.

“Whichever you wish, my…Branford.” I just barely caught myself, but he smiled and seemed pleased.

“Hmm…” Sir Branford laughed again and shook his head, still contemplating. “I wonder why that is.”

“May I ask a question, um…Branford?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you prefer Sir Branford?” I inquired.

“That title was earned, not given by birth,” he said. I nodded, for his reasoning did make sense. He turned to me and placed his hand over mine, resting in my lap. “Will you sleep in my bed with me, Alexandra?”

I looked over to the corner of the room and saw the bed. It was large and quite comfortable looking though I was not used to such extravagance nor did I need an abundance of comfort. However, there was no other place in the room to sleep except for the floor, and Branford’s thoughts on that were quite clear.

“There is plenty of room for two,” my new husband said. “I will not take any advantage.”

I nodded dumbly. It was as if my voice simply did not work in front of this man. Take advantage? I was his now, and by right, he could do with me as he wished. I wondered why he would even make such a statement when he could just as easily change his mind partway through the night and do with me as he wanted. I wondered if he was the sort of man who would try to mold me into complacency only to press his advantage later though there wouldn’t really seem to be a reason for him to act in such a way unless he was simply a cruel man.

What if he was?

“There is a screen near the basin and chamber pot,” Branford said. “You may change out of your dress there. Nightclothes were brought for you earlier.”

His voice was quiet, and he didn’t sound as if he were angry at me. Again, I nodded without sound and did as he instructed. I attempted to focus on the quiet calm of his voice and not my own internal fears.

In my haste to hide myself behind a screen to change into the nightclothes given to me by Hadley, I completely forgot the lacing up the back of my wedding dress. Once I was back behind the partition, there was no way for me to remove the dress on my own. I could feel panic welling up inside of me again, and I had to fight hot tears from escaping my eyes. I wasn’t doing anything right. Cruel or kind, what would my new husband think of me?

“Alexandra.” I heard Branford’s voice from the other side of the concealment. I hadn’t heard him approach and jumped at the sound. “What’s wrong, my wife?”

“I cannot remove the dress.” I blurted out the words, closing my eyes tightly to keep the tears inside.

“Come here,” Branford said. I could hear him chuckling at me. I wiped my eyes—just in case any tears had escaped—and slowly came around the screen. Branford motioned for me to turn around. I felt his hands at my back, slowly pulling the laces through their holes. When he reached the bottom, I felt the backs of his fingers slowly trace over the exposed skin from my waist, all the way to the back of my neck, and then down again. I felt myself shiver. He placed his lips next to my ear, and his breath covered my neck. “I think that should do it, my wife. Please don’t hesitate to tell me if you need more help.”

“Yes, my…yes, Branford.” I stepped back behind the screen before my blush could cover me completely. I tried not to focus on the tingling sensation on the skin near my spine as I removed the dress quickly, hung it over the screen, and pulled the nightdress over my head. It hung to my feet and all the way down my arms, but the material was silk and would have been sheer if there was only one layer instead of two. Still, I had never been dressed in such a way in front of a man, and though I was dressed appropriately for sleep, I couldn't bring myself to come out from behind the barrier.

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