The Princess's Bride

  The Princess's Bride

  A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication

  KT Grant

  A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication

  www.ravenousromance.com

  Copyright © 2010 by KT Grant

  Ravenous Romance™

  100 Cummings Center

  Suite 123A

  Beverly, MA 01915

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-356-6

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Once, in the far off, distant land of Flaundia, there lived an exiled king on a humble property. The former king had two children: a son Thomas, and a daughter Daisy. The king, now known only as Conrad de Fleurre, was a simple gentleman of means. He loved his children and only wanted the best for them. One day Thomas would run his estate while Daisy would take charge of the household until she married a fine gentleman and had her own offspring. At the moment, though, Daisy was barely a woman. She had just turned eighteen, and she preferred spending her days sitting under a tree and reading a book. Many times Daisy's father accused her of having her head in the clouds. Daisy did not refute her father, for she dreamed of exotic lands and exciting people based on the stories she had read. Thomas assumed Daisy waited for a handsome man to sweep her off her feet. Part of what Thomas believed was correct. But Daisy did not long for a man; rather, she hid her growing feelings for a young servant girl named Chelsey.

  Chelsey was the de Fleurre cook's daughter. She and her mother had started working for the exiled king's family a few months after they had arrived in Flaundia. Chelsey was only a girl herself when she’d first met Conrad and his two small children. Thomas didn't appeal to Chelsey at all, but the young Daisy, with her shiny blonde curls and beautifully shy smile, made Chelsey's stomach twist and turn in ways she couldn't explain. While her mother Wilda welcomed their good fortune for finding stable employment, Chelsey tried to seek out Daisy’s company. She watched the other girl closely and longed to be her friend. And as the years went by, Chelsey's feelings for her employer's daughter changed from that of friendship to companionship, and finally something much deeper that nestled inside her heart. Those feelings… that need, had turned not only into love, but also into passion and desire.

  Chelsey craved for Daisy much like a man and woman wanted one another. But she knew this could never be. Her love was a forbidden one. So, Chelsey hid her feelings from the unaware Daisy, silently yearning for the young girl who was slowly becoming a woman before Chelsey's eyes.

  One cloudy spring morning, Chelsey had just come back from an errand her mother had sent her on. There were no eggs left for Wilda to make a quiche for luncheon. Chelsey volunteered to go into town to purchase these ingredients, for she enjoyed being out in the open and away from her normal, mundane chores. As she walked down the lane that would lead her back home, Chelsey whistled a bawdy tune. She had learned it from one of the serving wenches at the local pub she liked to go to most nights. She glanced up at the sky and noticed that storm clouds were rolling in. There would surely be a downpour to follow. She hurried along, not wanting to be caught out in the rain.

  As Chelsey walked past the stable, a woman's voice rang out.

  "Chelsey! Please come here this instant. I need your help."

  Chelsey stopped and took a deep breath. She tugged on her braid, tightening the black ribbon that pulled her hair away from her face. Lately, Daisy had been acting shyer around her than usual. Many times Daisy's stuttering grew worse whenever Chelsey was in the same room.

  This confounded her in so many ways.

  "Hurry, Chelsey!" Daisy cried out again, sounding more agitated than before.

  "Coming, Miss Daisy!" Chelsey called out and walked into the stable.

  It was very dark inside the shelter, for the sun had completely disappeared behind the clouds. There was no stablehand in sight, only the petite Daisy wearing a light green riding outfit and holding a riding crop.

  Chelsey stared at Daisy, who was turned away, standing on her toes as she reached for a saddle lying on the shelf. Chelsey smiled as Daisy grunted and hopped on one foot. She set down the basket of eggs and went over to her mistress.

  As Chelsey's boots made a scraping sound across the sawdust-covered ground, Daisy turned and pressed a palm against her chest.

  Chelsey almost licked her lips at the sight. Daisy’s hand was covering a part of her body that Chelsey would have loved to place a kiss upon.

  "Chel-chelsey. Finally." Daisy's eyes went wide for a moment.

  "Yes, Miss Daisy? What can I help you with?"

  "Um… I want to go for a ride and I need my horse saddled. I would like you to help me do that."

  Chelsey crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well, princess, shouldn't that be one of the stablehands' jobs?"

  Daisy's mouth dropped open at Chelsey’s brash tone. Chelsey held back a snicker, grabbed the end of her braid, and swiped it back and forth under her nose.

  Daisy dipped her head down and kicked a piece of hay with the toe of her boot. When she snuck a peek back at Chelsey, her face had become flushed.

  Oh no. Maybe I went a little too far with the teasing… The last thing Chelsey wanted to do was hurt Daisy. She took another step forward.

  Daisy lifted up her hand, but then dropped it to her side. "You… you shouldn't question m-me that way. After all, you are my servant, are you not?"

  Chelsey kept from rolling her eyes. Ever since Daisy had turned eighteen, her attitude had changed in a way she didn't like at all. If Daisy had been any other woman, Chelsey would have called her a bitch. But the Daisy she knew and loved was kind and gentle. She would excuse Daisy's snobbish words as growing pains. Chelsey’d had her own "growing pains" three years ago when she was Daisy's age. That was when she had come to realize that her feelings for Daisy were deeper and stronger, and that she would never look to another man for pleasure. Daisy was the one and only for her.

  "Miss Daisy, I will do whatever you desire, but you may want to rethink about going riding just now."

  "And why is that, Chel-chelsey?" Daisy lightly slapped the riding crop against her leg.

  "From the looks of the clouds in the sky, I would say it's likely to rain at any moment." In a moment of daring, Chelsey took another step forward and placed her face close against Daisy's ear. She held back from taking a deep sniff where Daisy's shoulder and neck met. "And we wouldn't want you to get all wet now, would we?"

  Daisy stared up into Chelsey's face. The tip of her tongue slid out, wetting her bottom lip.

  "Ah…I didn't take that into consideration."

  Chelsey stepped back. It took everything she had to stop from swiping her tongue across Daisy's mouth and sucking gently on her virginal lips.

  "It's a good thing I passed by when I did, then," Daisy responded. She went over to Daisy's mare and rubbed her side. The horse neighed in delight.

  "Well then, I would like you to brush down Melon for me."

  "Whatever you desire, your highness."

  "Chelsey, for the umpteenth time, I'm Daisy or Miss Daisy, not ‘your highness’ or

  ‘princess.’"

  Chelsey glanced back at Daisy, who had crossed her arms. She snorted and pressed her face against Melon's neck. "But you are my princess," she whispered.

  Daisy walked over to Chelsey. "Wh-what did you say? I missed—"

  A loud boom of thunder ripped through the air, and a flash a lightening lit up the sky.

  Daisy squeaked and
grabbed hold of Chelsey's hand.

  Chelsey swallowed a moan. She was in absolute heaven right now as Daisy clenched her hand in a tight grip. Chelsey began to turn her hand over to link their fingers together when she noticed how pale Daisy's face had become.

  "Prin-Miss Daisy, are you all right?" All thoughts of seduction were forgotten as Chelsey rubbed her hands up and down Daisy's arms.

  "Qu-quite alright. I… um, don't care for storms like this with the loud thunder.

  Sometimes it frightens me." Daisy looked down and scuffed her boot across the ground. "You must think I'm a ninny, acting this way. Papa would say that—"

  "Shh." Chelsey placed her finger over Daisy's mouth. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Miss Daisy. Sometime storms scare me."

  "They do?" Daisy asked, tilting her head back.

  Another boom of thunder came right over their heads and the wind picked up, making Daisy and Chelsey's hair fly all around. Both women stared at one another until they broke apart as the rain pounded on top of the roof.

  Chelsey released Daisy and backed away. She turned, facing the entrance, and rubbed her palm over the back of her hair. The action loosened her braid, but she didn't care. She needed to leave before she did something very stupid, like ask Daisy to wait out the storm with her in the hay loft. They would sit together and chat, watching the rain. Chelsey would hold Daisy close, and as Daisy snuggled in for protection, Chelsey would lift Daisy's face up, press her lips against her mouth, and ever so slowly slip her hand inside Daisy's bodice to cup—

  Chelsey was startled as Daisy lightly touched her hand. "What if we wait out the storm together—"

  "No!" Daisy said loudly. She turned around and swallowed deeply. Daisy stood there looking startled and… wounded.

  "Forgive me, my lady, but I have other chores to finish. My mum will be wondering where I am. We still need to make lunch and I have the eggs for the meal." Chelsey knew she was rambling. Her mind was all jumbled as she tried to ignore the throbbing in between her legs and her swollen breasts, which ached to be fondled.

  "Oh my, we can't have you get in trouble. You should go now. I think I'll read for a short while until the storm passes. If only you…"

  "If only what?" Chelsey asked in a low whisper.

  Daisy blinked and shook her head. She gave Chelsey a look that made her stomach clench. "N-nothing. I'm just thinking out loud. If you have t-time after you've finished with your chores and making lunch, would you still m-mind rubbing down Melon? I would, but you do have this wonderful w-way with your… hands."

  "Whatever you desire, my Daisy… I mean, Miss Daisy! Now excuse me." For the first time in her life, Chelsey was flabbergasted. She spun on her heel, grabbed her basket, and ran out into the rain as if the devil was on her backside.

  She almost stopped and turned to look back at Daisy, but she kept going until she was safely inside the house. As she stood panting against a wall in the doorway, she wiped away a few raindrops that were falling down her face. As she pulled her hair back, she cursed silently.

  Her favorite ribbon was missing.

  Damn. Must have fallen out in the stable. Maybe I should go back… Chelsey snuck a peek back outside and looked over at the stable. As she reclaimed her breath and her heartbeat calmed down, she placed her forehead against the side of the window and examined her hand; the same one Daisy had grabbed during the storm.

  If she had a choice, she would never wash that hand again. For a small moment in time, her one true desire had handed over her trust without question. She would never forget that moment as long as she lived.

  Her heart now belonged to Daisy ever more.

  Chapter One

  The sound of Tuck, the rooster, crowing interrupted Daisy from her reading. She had reached the much-anticipated point in the story where the villainous Lord Ramsey had begun ravishing the simple-minded dairy milkmaid.

  Daisy looked down at the page and found her place once more, but the annoying bird let out another ear-splitting cackle. She sighed loudly and fell back onto the bed, her white cotton nightgown pillowing under her as she looked out her bedroom window at the acres of land her father owned. She would have to finish later; Wilda would be calling her down to breakfast soon.

  “There’s no reason for a rooster to go on as if the sun had only just risen,” Daisy muttered and stretched as she got ready to start the day.

  She yawned and covered her mouth with the back of her hand, longing to catch a few more hours of sleep. Her exhaustion was entirely her own fault; she had stayed awake late into the night reading from The Masterful Villainy of Lord Ramsey, a novella series she enjoyed. She would have to wait until after breakfast to continue. Then she’d be able to sit under her favorite tree near the lake and read without interruption.

  Her father was expecting her to help their housekeeper oversee the chores today, but as long as he or her brother Thomas couldn’t find her, she would be free to spend the day however she chose.

  And to think her father had once been the honored king of the small Isle of Ilgeria. There, she and her brother had had enough servants at their disposal to do such mundane tasks as keeping house. But that had been over a decade ago. After the revolution that had forced her family into exile, her father was now one of the many dethroned noblemen who owned a modest estate in a neighboring county.

  The young exiled princess yawned again and walked over to her vanity to fix her hair.

  She sat and grabbed her brush, spotting a black, wet-stained velvet ribbon that lay on top of her journal. She smiled and picked it up, rubbing the smooth fabric under her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. A faint peppery scent drifted up into her nostrils. The fabric smelled exactly like Chelsey, her cook’s twenty-year-old daughter. Daisy had found the ribbon on the stable floor after she’d asked Chelsey to help her saddle her horse for a ride. Though the rain storm had ruined her plans, it was well worth it for the short time she was in Chelsey's company.

  After Chelsey had left to go finish her chores, Daisy swung around in circles, giddy that she had gained the courage to speak to her. This was daring on her part. More often than not, Daisy could barely look Chelsey in the eye, let alone talk to her.

  Unfortunately, though, this was one girlish infatuation that could never be acted on. If her father found out, she’d be in a world of trouble. He would send her away on the next carriage to a nunnery for her unnatural attraction to the dark-haired, soulful-looking older woman. A woman of Daisy’s rank – a princess by blood and birth – would dare not commit an act that the church considered to be an abomination.

  Daisy smiled sadly and caressed the ribbon one final time before deciding to return it to its rightful owner. This would give her the perfect excuse to engage in conversation with her servant, as long as she didn’t end up blushing and stammering like some immature twit.

  She sat up straighter and pushed her shoulders back, thrusting out her less than impressive chest. Daisy glared at her reflection and stuck her tongue out at the sight of her rounded, babyish face. Her head was crowned with lackluster dirty blonde curls that refused to lie flat, especially when the weather was humid. She glanced over at a discarded corset lying on the floor; not even that piece of clothing could increase her bosom to her liking. But it did make her look much slimmer and hid the overabundant hips that had plagued her for years.

  Daisy doubted that a corset, regardless of how tight it was pulled, would impress Chelsey. What would a mature woman, with a wonderful-looking bosom, want with a girl whose father often patted her on the head before telling her to run along and play house?

  Daisy ignored those discouraging thoughts and, instead, opted to fantasize about handing over Chelsey’s ribbon and asking for a kiss as her reward. Her nipples grew into points, and dew coated between her legs when a voice called up to her.

  “Miss Daisy! Breakfast is served.”

  Daisy blinked and shook her head as she came back down to reality.

  Imagine if
she had drifted off in public! How would she ever explain her body’s reaction to those thoughts of forbidden desire?

  Daisy placed the ribbon on top of her journal and stood to get dressed before starting her day.

  ****

  Daisy slipped the precious ribbon into her hand as she walked down the stairs. She had already memorized what she would say to Chelsey when she found her. Because she was looking down and mumbling under her breath without paying attention to where she was going, she turned a corner and bumped into someone.

  “Oh, forgive me!” she apologized and looked up.

  Her heart flew up into her throat.

  Chelsey grasped her arms and stared down at her with the dark, hooded look that Daisy loved. Chelsey titled her head, exposing full, rose-pink lips, and then released her.

  “I should be the one asking your pardon, your highness,” Chelsey said, pushing her sable-colored hair back over her shoulder.

  Daisy’s eyes lit up at Chelsey's remark. Chelsey was the only one who continued to call her by her title. It sounded oddly seductive, such that hearing it gave her a funny feeling deep in her stomach. She swallowed and looked away, suddenly convinced that her mind was playing tricks on her. She could have sworn Chelsey had snuck a peek down at her bodice. It was a much lower-cut style than what she usually wore. She had wanted to wear something light and airy to match the weather and was determined not to act ashamed, although the tightness of her bodice did nothing to improve her lackluster cleavage.

  “Here.” Daisy looked down at her ivory velvet slippers and held out Chelsey’s ribbon.

  “What is this, Princess Daisy?” She smiled coyly. “A present from you?”

  Daisy could feel a blush rising up from her neck to her face. “A-ah no. Th-this is your r-ribbon. Re-remember when were in the s-stable a few weeks ago during the rain storm? Your r-ribbon fell out of your hair. I found it and held onto it for safe keeping.” She cringed inwardly, resenting her stutter, and looked around the room at anything besides Chelsey’s face.