The Princess's Bride (2 page)

“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.

Chelsey snorted. "Thank you for keeping my ribbon safe. It's my favorite one."

Daisy beamed, overjoyed that she could put Chelsey at ease by taking care of something close to her heart, even if it was only a piece of fabric.

When Chelsey grabbed the ribbon from Daisy’s hand, her thumb pressed gently against the inside of the princess’s palm. Daisy held her other hand over her churning stomach, her inner thighs clenched, and her woman’s dew formed a moist pocket once again.

“I thank you kindly, princess,” Chelsey spoke in a soft whisper and moved closer. Her breath grazed Daisy’s forehead, and Daisy held back a sigh of longing.

“Y-you are v-very welcome, Chel-lsey. Um, I best be going now,” Daisy muttered and looked up at the other woman, who stood at least five inches taller then her. The dark-haired beauty stood so close that if Daisy rose onto her tiptoes, she would be able to touch those precious lips.

“Whatever you desire, your ladyship.” Chelsey’s voice came out as a purr.

Daisy’s eyes grew wide, and she nodded again before rushing away, cursing silently for making a fool of herself once again.

A glance over her shoulder confirmed that Chelsey had remained standing there, rubbing her ribbon over her mouth. This time Daisy did not blame her fanciful imagination when Chelsey winked at her.

****

“Thank you, Wilda, for another lovely meal.” Thomas complimented the cook as she took the breakfast plates away.

“The pleasure is all mine, Master Thomas.” Wilda flashed him a bight smile, and another one to Daisy, which was returned in kind. Daisy preferred to eat in the kitchen rather than in the dining room. Then, not only could she be near Chelsey, but she could also listen to Wilda as she told her the most interesting stories.

“Yes, Wilda. Another well-cooked meal. Glad to have you here.” Daisy’s father, Conrad, burped and patted his full stomach.

Daisy and Thomas shared a look and grinned. Their father enjoyed Wilda’s cooking too much, and his stomach bulged slightly over his breeches.

Wilda nodded and left with the empty plates. Daisy’s eyes followed her, hoping to catch sight of Chelsey through the open door. She glanced back at her father, who was looking at her expectantly.

“I’m sorry Papa. Did you say something to me?”

“Daisy, you must pay closer attention. You are no longer a little girl, but a young woman of noble birth.” He took a sip of his coffee and sat back, folding his hands over his protruding stomach. “Next week is Lord Humphrey’s annual summer celebration ball. I expect you to allow his lordship to have two dances with you, one of them a waltz.”

“Oh, Papa, you know I don’t care very much for balls. They are too stuffy and overheated. I can barely breathe because of the lack of hygiene our neighbors have.”

Thomas stifled a laugh and looked down at his coffee when his father gave him a pointed stare.

Conrad scratched his graying beard. “Young lady, a woman of your breeding does not make mention of a person’s bathing habits. Nevertheless, you will attend, and, if Humphrey gives you his permission, you will engage his attentions.”

“But—”

He held up his hand. “Enough. It is about time you think about marriage and giving me grandchildren. Your mother, god rest her soul, was eighteen when we married. I thank the Lord every single day for our fifteen wonderful years together, ruling in harmony, before she succumbed to the fever.” Her father paused before adding: “Humphrey is worthy of your consideration and quite the catch! He is twenty-seven and a much-respected naval captain with his own shipping company. You need to stop your silly daydreaming and this nonsense of always having your nose in some book.”

Daisy stared down at her lap, fighting the urge to run from the room in tears. She knew that, if she acted out, her father might punish her and take away her precious books.

“Oh, my child,” Conrad sighed and dropped a hand on her shoulder. “I only want the best for you and Thomas. You do realize this, don’t you?” He swallowed hard. “Ever since your mother left us to go to the great beyond, I have tried to be a good parent, but it hasn't been easy without a mother to guide you.”

Daisy gave her father a small smile. She knew he had done his best with a daughter who had lost her mother when she was so young. Not to mention dealing with the anxiety of exile and the task of setting up residence in a strange country. “Papa, you have done quite well with Thomas and I. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. Please forgive me.”

Daisy’s father smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s a good girl. Thomas, let us go into my study and work on those ledgers we have been neglecting.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, and Daisy smothered a laugh. All three stood up from the table and walked out into the hall.

“Daisy, I expect you to help Martha today. She mentioned something about airing the bed sheets.” He shuddered. “Since that is women’s work, I know you will be more than willing to help. Thomas, come.”

Daisy’s father walked away, and Thomas gave Daisy a look of exasperation before following him. She waved back. She did feel sorry for her brother. For the next few hours, he would be stuck inside a small room going over numbers while she would be outside reading on this beautiful day.

“Miss Daisy?” Martha called from above the steps, and Daisy moaned.

“Coming, Martha!” she yelled as she walked up the stairs.

She would spend a few hours in the morning doing 'women’s work,' and then she would get to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. She would read and dream about living on a deserted island where she could sleep as late as she wanted and sit under shady trees eating coconuts.

****

“Oh, Lord Ramsey. You evil, nasty man,” Daisy muttered as she reached the final scene where he would fight against the hero to the death.

“Who is Lord Ramsey?”

Daisy sat up and pressed a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “Dear heavens, you gave me a fright.”

Daisy looked up. Chelsey stood at the edge of the blanket, watching her. Her head blocked the rays of the sun, creating a halo around her face.

“He’s a character f-from my book. But why would you care? I have never seen you read,”

Daisy said without thinking and covered her mouth. “That was very rude of me. I apologize.”

Chelsey crossed her arms, and Daisy couldn’t help but stare at the well-rounded bodice.

Chelsey's dress was laced up in the front, but Daisy appreciated it for more than just the style.

“No need. I can see why you may think I'm uneducated, princess, given that I dust your woodwork, muck your stalls and clean out your chamber pots.”

Daisy's lip trembled, and she looked down at her book in shame. “Again, my prejudice is showing. Please, w-won’t you join me?”

She glanced up at Chelsey, and a thrill coursed through her at seeing the black ribbon tying her hair back. Chelsey knelt down and sighed as she sat back against the tree. Her arm brushed Daisy’s, and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the feeling.

“It is very nice out here.” Chelsey crossed her arms and gazed out at the lake.

Daisy nodded in agreement. This forest wonderland was her favorite spot to escape to.

Here, she could read or nap the afternoon away without being caught.

“I spend most of my time here. I suppose that will all have to end soon.”

Chelsey turned and frowned. “Why? You have an incredible life of luxury.”

“Oh Ch-chelsey, you must think I'm a terrible snob. Yes, I have a wonderful life, even after everything that occurred on Ilgeria. But right now my father’s plans for my future are not the ones I want for myself.”

“What plans?”

Daisy sighed and rubbed a finger lovingly across the spine of her book. “He wants me to get married, as girls of my station must, and give him grandchildren.” She sniffed and tapped her book.

“And you don’t want that, your highness?” She moved closer until her lips brushed Daisy’s ear.

Daisy inhaled softly, enjoying the aroma of herbs and cloves that she recognized from the kitchen. When Chelsey placed a hand on top of her own, Daisy almost leaped up from the blanket. This was one of the few times she had ever been this close to the older woman.