Sharp points jabbed my thighs, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Branford on his knees with his face in his hands and his elbows resting on my legs. He was shaking his head slowly and muttering. I couldn’t understand what he was saying until he finally released his head from his hands and looked back at me.
“How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to figure any of this out on my own? I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know how to do this without your help! Please, Alexandra. Please talk to me.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I whispered. “I want to be a good wife to you. Please…I’ll learn whatever it is you need from me. I promise.”
“I want to know you,” Branford said. “And not just because my queen demanded I do so. But try as I might, I can’t get anything out of you. Every disparaging thing you say about yourself infuriates me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry. Please, don’t…don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Make me leave,” I finally said as tears began to pour down my cheeks again. “I know if I don’t get this right, you will find someone else to...to…”
“I won’t,” he said, insistent. “I told you, I want you to remain my wife.”
“But you still haven’t…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t know the right words.
He sighed again and reached up to my face with his thumb to brush away the tears.
“You know why,” he said. “It’s not for lack of want.”
“It is because I’m afraid,” I said. The word inadequate floated through my head. “And because I don’t know what to do. I’ve already failed you in this regard. If I fail in others, you won’t want me anymore.”
“God, no.” Branford took my face in his hands. “Alexandra, if you fail anywhere, it is because I have not given you the proper instruction, the proper guidance. I want to understand you so I can better learn how to teach you what you need to know. You are not a servant any longer.”
“But I know how to be a servant,” I blurted out. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”
For a moment, Branford just stared at me. His eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth only to close it again before he narrowed his eyes. One of his hands ran through his hair as he looked at me, his expression unfamiliar and confused. He looked away from me, then down to the floor, out the window, and finally back to my eyes.
“Tell me something,” Branford suddenly said. “When have you felt the most comfortable with me?”
“My lord?”
Branford closed his eyes and sighed before opening them again. I realized my mistake and bit down on my lip.
“When have you felt comfortable with me, at ease, like you knew exactly what was expected of you?”
I considered his question, knowing I had to answer as truthfully as I could. There had been so few times when I felt at ease around him, it wasn’t long before I came up with my answer.
“When you have asked me to do something for you,” I said.
“Like making me tea? Giving me a shave?”
“Yes, my…Branford.”
“Will you make me some tea now, Alexandra?”
“Of course, Branford.” I stood and went to the kettle, which was empty. I quickly tied the front of my dress back together, filled the kettle with fresh water, and hung it over the fire. I added a couple of logs to help build up the flames, then went to the basket containing the tea leaves and began to prepare the pot while Branford’s eyes followed my movements.
“Bring me my lunch as well.”
I went to the table and ladled the stew into a large bowl. I added some of the bread to a plate and placed some berries and a pear on it as well and then brought them both to him. I stirred a spoonful of water from the pitcher into the stew to help it cool a little so Branford’s mouth would not be burned. Already, I could feel my body begin to relax as my tears dried up.
“Would you like anything else to drink?” I asked. “There’s wine…”
“Not right now,” he said. His gaze continued to follow me as I set his meal on the table beside his chair. I went back to the kettle. When the water began to boil, I added it to the teapot to steep.
“Who taught you to make tea?” Branford asked.