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He no longer responded in kind when I told him I loved him.
Sunniva told me he kept in close contact with Camden, would eat when something was brought to him, and was going to Hadley on the days he was obligated though never any others. My heart was torn—part of me wanting him to give her a child quickly so his melancholy state could be tempered, and the other part glad to know he was not spending any more time with her than was required of him.
My chest grew heavy as I watched him move further and further away from me, unsure of what I should do and praying Hadley would carry a child for us soon so I could find a way to bring my husband back to me. However, my prayers were not answered.
Spring came and went, and Hadley was still not with child.
“Sit with me,” I said quietly to her as I sat in the Women’s Room with my sewing in hand.
“Of course,” Hadley said softly. She had only just entered the room where I was already staying the previous night though I probably could have stayed in my own rooms. Branford had apparently left for Seacrest though he had not even informed me of his departure.
“Are you well?” I asked.
She tilted her head to the side, and I nodded to Janet, who brought us both tea and fruit.
“I saw you walking in the garden with Sir Brigham,” I said with my lips in a tight, teasing smile. Hadley blushed and nodded. Given her role, Sir Brigham was not allowed to touch Hadley, but they seemed to enjoy their time together. She was also always accompanied by Samantha or one of the other women. I hoped for Hadley’s sake she would someday be able to be at Sir Brigham’s side.
“He is…kind.”
“He is,” I agreed.
Hadley looked around the room as she sipped her tea, and as the other women moved farther away, she leaned toward me.
“Is Sir Branford terribly angry?” she asked.
I could only shake my head.
“I do not believe anger is what plagues his mind,” I told her. “I cannot say for sure, for he has not spoken to me of many matters for some time now.”
“He does not speak to me,” she said softly.
I felt a now familiar pang in my chest, and as my throat tightened, I swallowed hard and blinked several times. As I fought to control the emotions that threatened to overcome me, I felt Hadley’s hand on my arm and looked at her.
“I am sorry it is this way for you,” I whispered. “I thought…well, we all thought…”
“I should be with child,” she stated.
“Yes.”
“Alexandra?” Hadley turned her questioning eyes to me. “Is it…is it possible that Sir Branford…could he…or rather, perhaps he cannot…”
I shook my head slightly, but sharply. I understood what she was suggesting, but if such an insult were heard from her lips, it would not be taken kindly by many in the kingdom.
Some thoughts were simply not spoken.
*****
Branford’s state deteriorated as the months went by. He spent many, many hours in council with King Camden, who was now forced to rule from the royal bed. Edgar made a point of coming to Silverhelm at least once a week, demanding to see Camden for himself and insisting Branford take the throne immediately. Branford refused on both accounts, but even with our distance, I could see the strain it placed on him as Edgar continuously threatened both Branford and Silverhelm with violence if he did not get his way.
Branford rarely spoke to me or even looked my way unless decorum demanded it.
As the summer heat beat down on the castle walls, Ida and Parnell came to visit from Sawyer with their petite daughter, Emma. She was already becoming a beautiful blending of her parent’s features—with Parnell’s laughing blue eyes and Ida’s dark, straight hair. I took the child in my arms and held her up high, smiling as she giggled down at me.
Branford acknowledged his sister and her family but turned away from them quickly. His gaze met mine, but he looked away from me and down to the floor. Ida glanced at me, and the hurt in her eyes was evident. Though I had traveled many times to Sawyer since Emma’s birth, it was the first time Branford had even laid eyes on his niece because he had been away when Ida brought her to meet Camden. Every time we were to visit, Branford would come up with an excuse not to go to Sawyer.
It was then I decided enough was enough. I returned the child to her mother, made my apologies, and followed him out the door and into the hallway.
“Branford?” I called. He did not turn, and I had to hold up my skirts and quicken my pace to keep up with him. “Branford!”
