Just Like A Bear: A Steamy Shifter Romance (A Ravenswood Romance Book 3)

by Jada Turner

  That evening, Emma had gone out to meet a boy from the stables with whom she was having a whirlwind romance, so Beth was alone in her bedchamber working on some embroidery. As the evening sky began to darken, Beth knew she would have to make a decision regarding the King, who was expecting her at nightfall. She was flattered by his obvious lust for her, and certainly had felt stirrings of arousal herself the previous evening, but she wasn’t sure whether she could make the monumental decision to go to him again, knowing exactly what it was he wanted. Casting her work aside, Beth stood and moved to the mirror beside Emma’s bed. Looking at her reflection, she could see her wild and shining hair, the faint sprinkling of freckles on the bridge of her nose, and a glisten of moisture on her lips. Feeling as if she barely recognized the young woman reflected back at her, Beth sighed, feeling the night drawing ever closer and knowing that a decision needed to be made. Then she heard a firm tap on the bedchamber door. Moving across to open it, she was greeted by a well-dressed man brandishing a silk purse and a sealed letter. Surprised, and a little embarrassed, Beth took these items and thanked the man who had brought them. Settling herself on her bed, Beth took a deep steadying breath and opened the parchment.

  My dearest Elizabeth,

  Since yesterday you have not been far from my mind for a single moment. As I have gone about my business attending to meetings with my advisors, out hunting in the grounds, and eating alone in my chamber, your image has remained before my eyes. I do hope I did not startle you last night, but when I discovered you in my rooms it was as if my imagination had summoned you there myself. I had wondered whom the beautiful new servant was when I saw you at the feast, and to find you there in my chamber it was as if you had read my mind and sought me out.

  I understand that you must be feeling unsure about my declaration of desire but a young, and no doubt chaste, girl such as yourself is a prized possession here at court, and I cannot bear the thought of another man possessing your body and your heart. This is why, despite the difficult circumstances, I could not help but let my feelings be known. I suspect that you felt the moment of attraction too.

  Please find me tonight, I cannot bear to wait a moment longer. I shall treat you well, and endeavor to make you happy in any way possible. My mind will not be at rest until I have felt you in my arms and whispered your name into your hair. You will find in the accompanying purse a gold ring to demonstrate my ardor for you, and a blue satin ribbon that will look beautiful against your hair.

  Please, Elizabeth, I shall be waiting.

  Yours, in any way you wish,

  Henry

  Chapter 7

  As Beth entered the bedchamber of the King of England her immediate impression was that it was far less intimating than she had expected. The furniture was grand, of course, but the soft flickering of the candles, and the dark red drapes over the bed made the room inviting and intimate. The King was standing at the far end of the room, leaning casually against the wall, and Beth smiled to herself as she realized that he probably positioned himself there carefully in an attempt at nonchalance. Not a word passed between them as Beth moved towards the King. Her palms were sweaty with nerves, and she was sure he would hear the thudding of her heart, but as he smiled at her with a look of pure joy that she had come, she began to breath a little easier. Once she was within touching distance of the King, Beth paused not knowing how to proceed. She really had no experience in this area, and hoped that the King would take control. As soon as she had thought this, the King reached out his hand and stroked her hair, drawing her face towards him as he did so. Their mouths were now millimeters apart and Beth could feel her heart racing at an incredible speed as her nerves began to be replaced with excitement. Before she even knew what had happened, they were kissing. The firm but gentle pressure of the King’s lips against hers felt exquisite, and his tongue gently edged into her mouth, exploring and caressing. His hands were now around Beth’s waist, and she felt herself melting into him, willing him not to let go. Very slowly, his hands moved to her bodice and began to unlace the ribbons that fastened it. They continued to kiss as Beth’s outer garments fell away and she was left standing in her shift. The King took a step back and his dark eyes took in the curves of her body, and her naked legs and arms. With his breathing now shallow and his cheeks flushed with desire, be began to kiss Beth’s neck, arms and fingertips. He then tenderly removed her shift, and she stood entirely naked in front of him. Leisurely the King cast his eyes over her from head to toe, taking in her darkened and pert nipples, the smooth skin of her stomach, the womanly curve of her hips and her slender legs. With a soft groan of arousal he led Beth to the bed, and she lay against the soft pillows and watched as he hurriedly removed his own clothes.

  Joining her in the bed, the King pressed the length of his body against hers and Beth gasped with a mixture of surprise and pleasure as she felt the hard proof of his arousal press against her thigh. They continued to kiss and the King slowly removed the blue satin ribbon that he had given Beth from her hair. His kisses moved lower and he took one of Beth’s erect nipples in his mouth, gently sucking it and flicking his tongue across is. Beth was by now breathing deeply, feeling herself getting wet with arousal. The King took her hand and guided it to his groin, closing his eyes and sighing with pleasure as she took him in her hand. With his hand still guiding hers, the King began to move it up and down so that Beth was pleasuring him, and his breath began to come in short sharp bursts. Positioning himself over Beth, he slowly and gently entered her, watching her face for any sign of pain. At first the sensation was uncomfortable, but as he began to slowly move back and forth, Beth began to feel a sense of overwhelming pleasure. His thrusting began to speed up and both of them, man and woman, servant and King, experienced and inexperienced, were moaning into each other’s necks. Beth’s fingernails were digging into his back in her enjoyment, and the King’s hands were clinging to Beth’s hips, drawing her closer towards him. He then lifted her legs so that they were over his shoulders, enabling him to get deeper inside her. Beth felt her pleasure increase and she was now entirely given over to the ecstasy of the moment. Suddenly the King grasped her face between his hands and pressed his lips against hers; he gave one final thrust before shuddering and omitting one long low moan. Seconds later Beth herself felt her arousal reach a climax and she cried out and grasped the King to her. She lay, satisfied and exhausted, her body trembling with the after-effects of such pleasure.

  The King was lying beside her with his eyes closed, his large tanned hand resting on her pale stomach, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. Beth felt as if she would never be able to move again, so overwhelmed she was by the intensity of their coupling. A thin sheen of sweat covered them both, and their hair was wild and tangled on the pillows. As her breath began to steady, Beth took in the King’s physique as he lay there beside her. She had never seen a naked man before, and her eyes were drawn to the bulging muscles on his arms and legs. She knew he was an avid sportsman, and had the reputation of having admirable calves, but she hadn’t expected him to be quite this muscular underneath his expensive clothes. Beth moved over so that her head was resting on the King’s firm chest, and his hand idly stroked her back. They lay there for a while, exhausted and satisfied, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually the King extricated himself from Beth’s embrace, got up, and began dressing again.

  “Elizabeth, you do not disappoint. I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to me this evening; I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I shall see you again very soon.” Then, with a final appreciative look at Beth’s body reclining in his bed, the King of England strode away. Beth smiled to herself at his formality, and then flopped back against the pillows that still smelt of the King.

  Chapter 8

  The following day, Beth and Emma were glad to be released early from their duties in the kitchen, as it enabled them to spend time getting ready for the dance. They got a tin bathtub, filled it with jugs of warm wate
r, and sprinkled in some rose petals and sprigs of lavender from the gardens. As Beth luxuriated in the warm water, Emma rubbed soap in her friend’s hair, and they talked happily about the evening to come. After they had both bathed the girls rubbed oil into their skin, dressed in their best gowns, and did each other’s hair. Once these preparations were complete they looked at themselves side by side in the mirror, and were pleased with their handiwork. The blue satin ribbon that the King had given to Beth was fastened in her hair, and her skin was flushed from the warmth of the bath and the excitement of the night ahead.

  “Is that a love bite?” Emma asked, peering closely at Beth’s neck.

  “Of course not, who could possibly have given me a love bite, silly?” Beth retorted quickly, still not ready to confide in her friend. Before she had to say anything else though, there was a rap at their door. John stood there looking dapper, also in his best clothes, and with a sprig of blossom in each hand. With a grin he unceremoniously thrust his gifts forwards, one for each of the girls. Thanking him, they attached the dainty flowers to each other’s hair, and the three of them set off for their dance.

  The evening was a great success. Emma kindly stayed with Beth at the beginning, introducing her to other servants, but after a while she disappeared off to find her stable boy. When John and Beth were left alone, he held out his hand with a cheeky look in his eye, and asked Beth to dance. The dancing was fun and tiring. Beth had never been to a dance before, but John was very patient when she kept treading on his toes. After a few songs, they went to the bar to order a drink, needing a rest from all of the exercise. Once they had their drinks, John led Beth outside, and they sat down on a bench outside the tavern.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Beth?” He asked after a long swig from his tankard.

  “Yes, it is fantastic. Thank you so much for inviting me,” Beth replied, smiling at him shyly.

  “I am so glad you are having a good time. I am sure that my toes will recover eventually from their terrible mistreatment!” John said, and the two laughed together, enjoying the warm evening air and the feeling of intoxication caused by the drink and the excitement. John gradually stopped laughing, and became suddenly serious. He drew a deep breath and then began speaking quickly: “Beth, my father has been bothering me for a long time about my need for a wife. I know we have only known each other for a short while, but I wanted to ask… that is, I had a suggestion that… would you do me the pleasure of…” Beth’s eyes had widened as she grasped what he was about to suggest. A sense of panic gripped her; John was so lovely and he was certainly handsome, but she was no virgin anymore and having tasted the ecstasy of her night with the King she wasn’t sure if she felt the same attraction towards John. He was less manly somehow, more timid and youthful, and she wasn’t sure she could feel for him the lust she had felt the previous night. It was all so confusing and happening too quickly. She stumbled to her feet, muttered her excuses, and disappeared back inside to find Emma, leaving a heartbroken John staring blindly into the night.

  Chapter 9: Six Months Later

  “His Royal Highness has a lot to answer for,” Emma grumbled as she held back Beth’s hair as she once again retched into a bucket. “A fine mess he’s got you into. I am of a mind to go and speak to him myself if you will not go and plead for his support. He cannot simply choose a servant girl, have his way with her, and then cast her aside if she finds herself with child. He might give you money if you explain that the baby cannot be anyone’s other than his, you must speak to him.” Beth felt too ill and despondent to even consider going to the King. She couldn’t believe that this had happened. She had now shared the King’s bed for six months. She had celebrated with him at the birth of his son and heir, and grieved with him when the child died a mere 52 days later. Their romance had become ever more passionate and lustful since then, and Beth suspected that Henry despaired of ever fathering a child by Catherine. Now though, Beth found herself with child, and she couldn’t help but hate herself for conceived, however unwittingly, a child when Catherine herself was struggling to produce any living offspring. Moreover, Beth knew her life was now ruined: she could never marry having proved herself an adulterous, sinful woman. Moaning in despair, Beth leant over the bucket and vomited once more.

  Beth felt too weak to look up when she heard footsteps and shuffling behind her. Within moments though, she felt a reassuring hand on her back and could smell the leather that always accompanied John when he entered a room. She smiled gratefully at her friend’s support, although she did register a slight wariness that a man had entered a woman’s bedchamber. Beth began to feel better as John stroked her back in circular motions, and finally felt able to remove her head from the bucket and rest against John’s shoulder. She surprised herself by feeling extremely glad that John had come. She realized in a flash that the King might stir her loins, but it was John’s unassuming, reliable nature that stirred her heart. Now Beth felt more confused than ever, and a tear escaped her eye as she reminded herself that she was no longer entitled to be in love, since she was now damaged goods. Unaware of Beth’s thoughts, John launched into the monologue he had come to say: “Beth, Emma has explained the situation to me. I know you are with child, and I know the child is the King’s. I must say you have been very foolish, but it is not my place to judge, and I just hope his Highness treated you well. I know you must be scared, Beth, but there is absolutely no way I am going to allow your name to be muddied or scandal to fall on your back. This may perhaps seem as if I am taking advantage of your desperate state, but please believe me when I say that is not my intention. I think you know I have loved you, Beth, since the day I met you. These last months I have been in anguish knowing that you did not see me in the same light. Of course, the decision is entirely yours, but I have a suggestion that might solve your problem. Elizabeth Scott, would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage? Nobody else needs know that you were already pregnant; we can allow them to think that we had a very fruitful wedding night. I will treat you well Beth, I will consider the child my own, and you do not even need to submit to your wifely duties if you do not want. I just want you to be happy.” As abruptly as John had started speaking, he stopped. The room was silent for a moment, and then with her heart racing Beth leant forwards and pressed her lips against his; her hand clasped the back of his head and her fingers stroked his soft hair.

  “John, you have made me the happiest girl in England,” Beth murmured into his lips, and her tears began to flow freely.

  Facing My Demon

  One

  “I, Eugenia Montague, do bequeath to my worthless nephew and his wife, the amount of ten pounds each. To my lovely granddaughter, Blair, I bequeath my mansion, Pennhalow and all surrounding land and properties thereof.”

  Mr. Haines removed his glasses and peered up expectantly. “Are there any questions?”

  Randall Montague slammed his fist down on the desk, making Mr. Haines flinch. “What the hell is this chicanery?” he demanded in outrage. “Ten pounds each? Is that a typo?” He snatched the will and scanned it in desperation. “There has to be some mistake.” “Oh no,” Mr. Haines replied crisply. “There is no mistake. Your aunt was quite insistent on the change to her will. You can see the document is dated three months before her death.”

  Randall’s wife, Heather, readjusted her mink stole and glowered at Blair. “And where were the doctors?” she demanded imperiously. “That woman wasn’t in her right mind. Her physician can attest to that!”

  The solicitor didn’t appear sympathetic. “I’m sorry. But everything is legal and in order. If you wish to contest the will, then you are free to do so.” Though he added mockingly, “You may want to leave the house to Ms. Evans. It’s not exactly kosher.”

  Randall was livid. “Are you serious?” he choked out, pointing a shrivelled finger at his cousin. “Blair barely knew Aunt Eugenia! She’s nobody!” Randall’s beady eyes roamed over Blair’s borrowed suit in disdain. “She
’s a short-order cook for God’s sake! No offence,” he blustered.

  “None taken,” Blair drawled, wanting to slink away to the nearest pub and get wasted. “Are we through, Mr. Haines?”

  “We are not finished here!” Heather sniffed. “There is still Eugenia’s insurance policy. If anyone should get Pennhalow, it is I! We deserve the money that comes with taking care of that harridan for five years!” She glowered at Mr. Haines. “We changed her bedpans and cleaned up her vomit.” Heather turned on Blair, sneering coldly, “And where were you? Flipping burgers at some roadside hovel that no one ever heard of!” She reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue, wiping at the pitiful dots of moisture rimming her eyes “Now, I ask you, who is entitled to Pennhalow?”

  Blair peeled off her gloves. “Look, I only came here to pay my respects to a lonely old woman who showed me more kindness than you two miserable pieces of shit ever did.” Mr. Haines snickered. “If you want Pennhalow, lady. Knock yourself out!” Blair rose from her seat, shook Mr. Haines’ hand, turned on her heel and left.

  Heather turned to her husband. “Well!” she snorted in outrage. “Have you ever?”

  “Shut up, Heather,” Randall sighed miserably. “Just shut the hell up!”

  ****

  “Well…?” Josie asked over the phone. “What did they say?”