The Invitation (8 page)

Either way, the
limo pulled up outside her house an hour later and Nancy felt like
the shell of the woman she had been just a few short hours ago.

She exited the
limo with her suitcase stuffed full of money and entered the next
chapter of her life.

The End.

Thank you for
reading, dear reader, I hope you enjoyed ‘The Invitation.’ Below is
the first chapter of my novella, ‘His Majesty’s Pleasure.’ But I
must warn you, this one is seriously kinky…

Book
Description of HIS MAJESTY’S PLEASURE by SAMANTHA HYDE:

Jane Winston is
just your ordinary kind of girl…except for the fact she is dating
The King of England’s son, Prince Rupert.

The day Rupert
brings her to the palace to meet His Father, King Humphry The
First, is the day Jane’s life will change forever.

His Royal
Highness is a Dom, and he has his sights set on the virginal
Jane.

But maybe Jane
isn't quite the innocent she first appears to be. Which is a good
thing, as His Majesty’s tastes fall on the far side of extreme.
This Dom just happens to have a genuine, medieval torture chamber
at his disposal in the dungeons of the palace and he isn't afraid
to use it.

He isn’t Sir.
He isn’t Master. He is The King of England. And Jane had better not
forget it…

CHAPTER
ONE

“Relax darling,
don’t look so scared. Just be yourself, my dad is going to love
you,” Rupert, Duke of Cobbold said when he led his trembling fiancé
along the cavernous hallway of Broughham Palace.

“Scared? Why
should I be scared? My fiancé’s father is only the fucking King of
England.”

“Jane,” Rupert
hissed, stopping and digging his fingers into her upper arm. “I
said don’t be scared and be yourself. I didn’t say swear like a god
damn fisherman’s wife.”

“I’m sorry, I’m
just so fucking nervous. There’s no fucking way he’s going to let
you marry a commoner like me.”

“Jane! Control
yourself, for the love of… Hello Dad.”

“I thought I
heard voices,” A man wearing an immaculately cut grey suit boomed
from an open door at the end of the hallway. “Don’t just stand
there gawping, come on through.”

The man’s voice
was deeply familiar to Jane as she had heard it countless times on
the television. And now here she was, face to face for the first
time with the man himself; Humphry Bathurst-Astor. Or King Humphry
The First, as he was commonly known.

“It’s a
pleasure to meet you Your Royal Highness,” Jane said, quivering
from head to toe.

He was tall, a
lot taller than he looked on the TV. He was in his late forties and
still in possession of a full head of thick black hair. His
piercing brown eyes unabashedly swept the length of her body and
her heart beat that much faster. He was dark, brooding and utterly
bloody gorgeous, more like a film star than a member of the royal
family. An entire nation of females had wept the day he had married
his childhood sweetheart, Lady Agatha, twenty-nine years ago.

“Please, call
me Humphry, I won’t have any of that bowing and scraping rubbish.”
He turned to address Rupert. “You were right son, she is a
beauty.”

Jane blushed to
the roots of her long blonde hair as she and Rupert followed the
King of England into one of the Palace’s many drawing rooms.

There was no
two ways about it, she was totally overwhelmed. Jane Winston came
from a relatively ordinary family, albeit a rich one. Her mum was a
teacher and her dad a GP, so she was no stranger to comfort. But
this. Fucking hell. The sheer opulence of the Palace defied
description.

“Thanks Dad. I
happen to think she’s the most beautiful girl in the world
too.”

Rupert smiled
lovingly down at her and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Jane
smiled back, in that moment not being able to stop herself from
comparing him unfavourably with his father. Both men were tall and
broad shouldered, but that’s where the similarity ended. Unlike his
dad, Rupert was blonde and even at the tender age of twenty one,
his thin hair was receding. His jaw was weak too, and his nose was
too big. Not like his father, who had a square jaw and straight
nose that would put James Bond to shame. Rupert looked scruffy
compared to his dad. In his bid to appear ‘normal’ he wore high
street jeans that did nothing to help the shape of his womanly
bottom.

“I am pleased
you brought your girlfriend to meet me Rupert, truly I am. But
there are things we need to discuss with regards your
engagement.”

“I love her
Dad. Nothing you can say or do will stop us being together.”

There was an
edge to Rupert’s voice that Jane had never heard before. She looked
up into his usually gentle face and saw how his puddingy mouth was
set in a grim line.

“Relax, son, I
am not saying you and Jane cannot be together, I am saying that
maybe marriage is not necessarily the answer. Shall we sit?”

King Humphry
gestured to the long, highly polished oak table than ran down the
centre of the room. On it was a bottle of champagne on ice, and
three flute glasses. The King of England took his place in the
elaborately carved, high backed chair at the head of the table, and
Rupert and Jane sat either side of him. He poured out the champagne
and Jane watched his long, elegant fingers. Aristocratic fingers.
She imagined them snaking into her knickers and parting her wet
pussy lips and she blushed hot at the inappropriate thought.

“To your good
health,” King Humphry said, looking directly at her and raising his
glass.

There was a
half-smile on his lips that deepened her blush. It was as if he
could read her mind.

“Dad,” Rupert
began. “Me and Jane are going to be married. To hell with stuffy
old tradition, I love her and that’s final. I love her too much to
keep her a secret or take her as my mistress.”

“My dear boy,
you are still so young, you have so much to learn of life. Are you
a virgin Jane?”

For a moment
she thought she had misheard him. She stared stupidly at him, her
face so hot she thought it might burst into flames. She knew he was
just as famous for his scathing tongue and outspokenness as he was
for his devastating good looks, but to be on the receiving end of
it was something else entirely.

“Dad! What kind
of a question is that? I can’t believe you would ask such a thing,
what in God’s name does that have to do with anything?”

“Do not take
the Lord’s name in vain, Rupert. I am the Defender Of The Faith and
I will not tolerate blasphemy.”

“I’m sorry
Father,” Rupert muttered, obviously angry but apparently too used
to being bulldozed by the old man.

“I’ll let it
pass. This time. But back to the matter at hand. Royals stick to
their own, we simply do not marry beneath ourselves. Can you
imagine the tabloid stories if you two become an official item? All
Jane’s ex-boyfriends would come out the woodwork with lurid stories
to tell that would irreversibly damage the House of Astor’s
reputation. The lower classes have no compunction over, what is the
phrase, ‘selling out.’”

“No one has
come to light yet, and Jane is already in the press,” Rupert
argued.

“Along with a
lot of other more suitable, blue-blooded women. I had no idea you
were serious about any of them. Besides, you are not in the public
eye properly at the moment. I have a deal with the press, you know
this. You are to be left alone for your three years of study at
University to be normal and mingle with the riff raff. No offence
Jane.”

“None taken
Your Royal High… Humphry. And there no ex-boyfriends,” Jane said
softly.

The King raised
a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really? Are you honestly telling me that
you are a virgin at the age of nineteen, looking the way you do,
and being from the class you are from?”

“My father is a
doctor,” she said primly, “I would hardly consider that working
class.”

The King
snorted good naturedly. “He works. Of course he is working class. I
do not believe that you are a virgin.”

When Jane
glanced at her boyfriend, he was a little red in the face.

“Yes, I can
vouch for it,” Rupert muttered.

“If you are
serious about this girl, she would have to undergo gynaecological
tests to ascertain if she is telling the truth.”

“No Father, I
won’t let you put Jane through any such thing.”

“Be quiet
Rupert. In fact, I think I would like a little alone time with your
would-be fiancé. Have someone drive you back to your University
digs, this no longer concerns you.”

“No, I am not
leaving without her.”

“It’s alright
Rupe, I’ll be fine,” Jane said reassuringly.

“Jane is to
spend the rest of the day here at the Palace. If you are as serious
about her as you say you are, then you will not mind her spending
the day with me. I need to find out more about her without you
distracting her and answering for her. This is the biggest decision
of your life and one that will have great impact on this family.
You are the only child we have Rupert, therefore it is of even
greater importance that you make a good choice with regards to
marriage. You do trust me, don’t you? I trust you too want the best
for this family?”

“You know I do
Father. You know I take my royal duties seriously.”

“Then leave us.
Jane will be returned to you in short order, you have my word.”

“Jane? Are you
sure you are OK with this?”

He looked so
pathetic sitting there, his weak chin wobbling so much she thought
he might cry.

“Yes, It’s
fine, your father only wants to do the right thing to honour his
family’s name. I do understand.”

Rupert stood
up, his champagne untouched. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you
Jane.”

Jane smiled in
reply. “Goodbye Rupert.”

Rupert left the
room, leaving Jane and The King alone.

“So, Jane,”
King Humphry The First said when they were alone. “Do you think you
have what it takes to be a Royal?”

Jane fiddled
with the knee length hem of her royal blue dress, a demure yet
figure hugging outfit she hoped would impress her prospective
father-in-law.

“I love your
son, Your Majesty. I mean Humphry. I think I do have what it
takes.”

“Hmmm. You must
understand Jane, there are plenty of more appropriate women for my
son. Britain is positively teeming with blue bloods clamouring to
get their grubby paws on such a position, title and of course
wealth.”

“I do not doubt
it.”

“If, and this
is a very big if; if I were to approve this little love match, you
would have to undergo much training.”

“Training?”

“Yes, training.
You need elocution lessons for a start, I can distinctly hear
cockney shining through your public school accent. You possibly
have the raw material; looks, poise, elegance and not too shabby a
family from the sounds of things. And you must be bright to get
into Cobbold’s University. I wish the same could be said for
Rupert, the boy is as dim as a twenty watt light-bulb, he makes a
mockery of such an academically prestigious establishment. I trust
you are a natural blonde?”

“Yes,” she
said, his gunfire questions and observations making her head
spin.

“Not albino are
you? You are very pale.”

“No,” she said,
bristling slightly. He really was most forthright.

“Good, we
cannot afford anymore weak genetics, healthy children are
important. Well, I have to say a dose of fresh blood may be a good
idea. You do know that bearing children is a requisite of marrying
my son?”

“I’m only
nineteen, I haven’t given children much thought. Of course, I hope
to one day…”

“Do you love my
son?” he barked, cutting her short.

“Yes, of course
I do,” she said, deeply flustered.

“I don’t
believe you for a second, a woman like you could never love a wimp
like him. What is your angle Jane? At best you are in love with the
idea of him. At worst, you are a little whore using your looks and
virginity to worm your way into a life of luxury and privilege. And
to become famous beyond your wildest imaginings. Is it fame you
want, Jane? Do you want that exquisite face of yours adorning
banknotes? Do you want to be as lusted after as much as Pamela
Anderson in her heyday but to be worshipped like some kind of deity
too? Or maybe you just wish to be a Princess and Queen Consort one
day?”

“No,” she
gasped when he had finished. “I just want Rupert.”

“Liar!”

He spoke
harshly and banged his fist on the table to emphasise his
point.

“I don’t know
what you want me to say. I’m telling you the truth.”

Although she
wasn’t. Not entirely. She had worked hard to get into Cobbold’s
University, only partly because Rupert was there. She had studied
hard at college, gained amazing results in her A-levels, and used
her looks and wit to charm her way through the vigorous interview
process such a university required.

So she fancied
being a princess. What girl didn’t? If a girlish fancy had made her
end up in the most prestigious university in Britain, where was the
harm? She hadn’t really expected to bag the prince, yet alone
develop a genuine affection for him.

I am not a bad
person. I am not…

“Jane, are you
one of the simpering proletariat who is with my son purely because
you have had a lifelong crush on me?”

“No,” she
gasped.

But his words
touched on a nerve. So what if she’d had posters of HRH on her
walls? Every girl in the land did. And she did love Rupert.
Sometimes when she looked at him, he made her stomach flip.

Yeah, only
because he’s his father’s son, and sometimes, especially in dim
lighting, he looks like HIM
…