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“If we ride hard, we should be able to reach the abbey in two hours.”
“We don’t have an extra horse. She’ll have to ride with me.”
“That will slow us down.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Sir Branford looked over to me for the first time in several minutes. He had barely acknowledged my existence since King Edgar and his entourage had left us here in the stables. His companion—the knight with the red dragon on his breastplate—glanced at me often, but his look was not the same as the one Sir Branford bestowed upon me. I felt certain the knight did not appreciate my presence though he had said nothing of the sort since his initial confrontation with Sir Branford.
My fiancé.
The words didn’t sound right in my head. Though I was certainly of marrying age, I hadn’t given the idea a single thought in my life—not with any true meaning. I had perhaps entertained a passing fancy when an attractive page or market seller caught my eye, but even that was rare. I was too busy with my duties to consider such folly. When Sir Branford looked at me, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my belly. The sensation made me forget anything and everything that was going on around me.
“You must stay behind us,” Branford told the knight. “We will have to ride too slowly, and I need to know we are not being followed.”
“Of course,” the knight responded, “though I don’t think he would be so bold.”
“I won’t chance it,” Sir Branford said, “not with my fiancée.”
“As you wis
h.” The knight bowed his head slightly, giving me one last cursory glance before walking out of the stables, leaving me alone with Sir Branford.
“Come, Alexandra,” he said, gesturing back toward his horse. “Have you been to Saint Anthony’s Abbey before?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good!” He smiled, which made his eyes light up for a moment. With a quick tug from Sir Branford, the reins fell away from handle of the stall door. A moment later, I was lifted into the saddle, my legs hanging off to one side. He mounted the horse behind me and again wrapped his arm around my middle, holding me securely against his body. “We’re going to ride quickly.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Have you ridden often?” I could feel the warmth of his breath against my neck, and again I thought I could hear him inhaling deeply.
“No, my lord.”
“If you tire, please tell me. If possible, we will take a short break. Understood?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Though the horses walked out of the stables and down the short path to the castle gates, Sir Branford quickly brought his steed to canter as soon as we had left King Edgar’s abode behind. I bounced around in the saddle uncomfortably even though his arm held me tight. After a few minutes, he slowed and shifted forward in the saddle, lifting me slightly and placing me across his legs.
“Put your arms ‘round my neck,” he said quietly. I felt my body tense slightly and blood rush to my face.
“Yes, my lord.” I responded so softly, I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. I had to turn my body toward his to comply, and once I was more or less facing him, though still side-saddle, I reached up and placed my hands around the back of his neck. As soon as I did, he called out to his steed, and we raced ahead. Sitting in his lap as I was, my body moved with his, up and down in the same rhythm as the horse. It was decidedly more comfortable, and in this manner, we reached the abbey without another word between us.
The priest at the door greeted Sir Branford warmly and smiled in my direction when Sir Branford informed him of our hurried nuptials. Sir Branford introduced him as Father Charles, and while Sir Branford spoke to the priest, I tried to remind my legs how to walk again. I had no idea simply sitting on a horse could leave one’s legs barely able to stand! I carefully shifted back and forth, trying to stretch tired, sore muscles. Perhaps I should have asked Sir Branford for a break after all.
“The nuns will care for you until mid-morning,” Sir Branford informed me. “By then, servants should have arrived with your wedding dress, and they will help prepare you.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I will see you tomorrow eve in the chapel, Alexandra,” Sir Branford said quietly. He reached out and took both my hands in his, produced a half smile that made my cheeks warm, and laughed softly through his nose. “So lovely.”
I watched for a few moments as he rode back down the road in the direction from which we had come. Dusk was upon us, and though I could not have been sure, I thought he met with another rider near the darkened horizon.
“Come, Alexandra,” Father Charles said. “You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”
“Yes, Father,” I replied. I followed him inside and heard the gate shut behind me. Throughout the rest of the evening, despite the meal I was fed and the bed I was given, all I could think of was the feeling of Sir Branford’s arm holding me tight and my arms wrapped around his strong neck. I supposed I was in a state of shock from everything that had transpired since the tournament’s end, and it was thoughts of his touch that took me into a surprisingly restful slumber.
