The original framers of the Constitution ratified an official amendment allowing for a stateside royal family. To avoid a civil war in the nascent nation, the founding fathers decided to shred the amendment lest those hungry for colonial independence discover its existence. But the document was never destroyed, instead kept under lock and key ever since 1787. Relegated to obscurity and nearly lost to history, one royal bloodline has secretly existed since the very origin of the United States. The Cambridge family has remained in the shadows, waiting for their chance to take the throne. They are...American Royalty.
Ellie had gotten John into this mess. She had to come up with a way to allow John to escape. If he was caught, John would be executed as a traitor. If he was apprehended, it might incriminate her as well. The valuable inside information she’d passed to him would not be delivered. Many more could die. Ellie’s weakness could end up damning the whole war for independence.
She stood in front of the open window high in the ramparts of the British-style castle built at the edge of Boston. The window was open and the summer breeze was stiff, plastering the thin white silk robe against her shapely figure. She didn’t wear anything underneath, so every gust tickled her skin. Her chestnut hair was undone, flowing easily with each gentle draft. The moon was full and the sky clear, a spotlight shining on the spectral figure standing at the window.
John had to escape the high walls surrounding the estate. There was only one way through—up and over. A dozen guards patrolled the grounds and watched every section of the perimeter. There was no opportunity for John to scale the wall unseen unless the guards were distracted for a significant time. And what could distract such diligent patrolmen?
Ellie grabbed the ends of the belt tied around her waist and tugged at them, releasing the knot holding the silk material closed.
Two hours ago, she’d been waiting anxiously for her guest to arrive. The evening deliveries had been brought in by horse and carriage for the night. A shift of bakers and cooks worked overnight to provide breakfast for the whole house. Supplies came in on an overpacked wagon. No one noticed a rogue American sneaking in with the flour. John snuck up to Ellie’s room on the upper floors.
“Your grace,” John gasped as he stepped into her room. The silk robe was sheer and accentuated the shape of her beneath the sheet of material.
“I told you to call me Ellie.”
“That’s too informal, milady,” John insisted. “In Britain, you’re the Duchess of York. When this war is won, you’ll be the Queen of America.”
“You’re not in Britain and the war isn’t yet won,” Ellie argued. “In my bedroom, I’m neither duchess nor queen.”
John took a step closer. They’d been playing this dangerous game for months, ever since he swam across half a lake to hear her tell him a secret. Every time Ellie had received important information to help the upstart rebels, she'd signaled to one of her handmaidens, who in turn got word across enemy lines. John would always find a way to be alone with her.
The sexual attraction between the two of them was strong.
As strong as those arms appeared. John had been a blacksmith before he’d become a soldier for the colonial army. His face might have been chiseled in his forge, a severe profile featuring a gaze as hard and unwavering as the strongest steel. If he'd grown up in Britain, John might’ve been a sultry squire to some noble knight or the stableman who got all the girls talking. He would’ve been out of bounds for a young royal woman such as Ellie back in England. But here in America, the citizens rebelled against those preconceived notions of propriety and rules.
This was the land of the free.
Ellie wanted to free those bulging biceps.
“I’m either your future queen and you ought to do what I want,” Ellie said, her lips close enough to steal a kiss, “or I’m your equal and you should do as you please.”
He kissed her and Ellie wasn’t sure whether he was giving in to her wishes or abiding by his desires. Regardless, his breath became hers and hers his. His body smashed against Ellie and she could feel every swell and curve of his sculpted form. His hands moved chastely around her waist and held her. Ellie couldn’t tell if he intended to prevent her escape or hold her away from taking this too far. A kiss was as much as he would commit to this night.
Well, a few kisses.
When they finally stepped away from one another, panting and flush, the time had become late and John had missed the last opportunity to escape before the gates were sealed for the night. His only remaining option was to go up and over the wall or risk being caught with Ellie and having them both branded as traitors.
“Go,” she commanded. She knew she’d kept him too long. It had been a bad idea. John was all the way a bad idea. She was going to be queen. He would always be a commoner. They couldn’t have a future, no matter what they were to each other in the present. This could never be serious, although now she’d put him in danger. “I’ll distract the guards.”
Now, Ellie found herself on the precipice of the parapet and opening her robe as she stood illuminated by the moonshine and starlight. Below, guards patrolled every sector of the extensive grounds. She knew they could see her as clear as day in the bright night, the illumination of heavenly bodies making her pale skin glow from head to heels. From her perch on the sill of her open window, six guards could see her standing revealed beneath the midnight sky. They all stared, seeing, stunned.
Ellie had once seen a hypnotist perform onstage at a London show and the effect of her naked beauty on these guards was no less than the shining pendulum of the performer’s pocket watch, capturing every erg of the men’s attention. The breeze ran over her nude body, caressing her like breath slinking between her legs. The air felt fresh upon her intimate areas. The wind softly stirred her downy muff. Her chestnut tresses blew back from her face and she closed her eyes and breathed.
They stared and she stayed, letting them look. She didn’t move. Like art aficionados appreciating a perfect statue, they remained stunned along their routes patrolling the compound. As persistent as the wind, Ellie could sense their gaze upon her. She knew they were staring particularly at her puckered nipples protruding from her firm breasts, reaching for the stars. They’d also be appreciating the wispy patch at the cleft between her legs, a royal peek so very few commoners had ever had the privilege to view.
After a long minute, she peeked through her lids just as John reached the apex of the wall and dropped over the other side. Safe. Ellie had succeeded in saving the brave soldier. She’d put him in danger and then she used her alluring assets to distract the guards and allow his escape. She’d completed her mission. It was done.
Yet she stood awhile, fully exposed and illuminated, letting the men enjoy the view for a little longer. Because Ellie liked them liking it. She was maybe more aroused being seen than they got off on seeing. After some time, maybe after a long time, she went inside. She remained naked as she crawled into bed for the night. Ellie sighed. She knew she would find herself outside, naked again, eventually.
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