Miss Simpkins' School: Jane
Miss Simpkins’ School: Jane
Miss Simpkins’ School for Seduction, Book 4
Raven McAllan
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Miss Simpkins’ School: Jane
Copyright © 2014 Raven McAllan
ISBN: 978-1-77101-275-1
Cover Artist: Victoria Miller
Editor: Deadra Krieger
Photographer: Jenn LeBlanc/Illustrated Romance
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
For everyone who has encouraged me over the years.
To those of you who read my stories and enjoy them.
Thank you all.
Chapter One
A loud and continuous thumping noise echoed throughout the house. It sounded like someone was doing their utmost to break the front door down. Cursing the fact Towse left not five minutes earlier to take a letter to the mail, Molly hurried out of her study and along the corridor. She’d only returned from the country the day before and hadn’t bothered to have all her staff back in position yet. They worked hard and if she promised them a week of no duties, she kept her word. Therefore until the morrow only Towse and her personal maid, Dorothy, were around. Before that moment it had been perfect. She cursed as she missed a stair and had to grab the banister to save herself from a nasty tumble.
The thumping carried on unabated as she crossed the hall and fumbled with the lock. When she opened the door her visitor just about fell through the gap and slammed the door shut behind her.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here. That old tabby, Horatia Gorman, was about to turn into the square and you know what a cat she is. She gets worse by the year, and some young idiots try to emulate her.” The lady shuddered. “’Oh, Jane dear, was that you I saw outside that woman’s house? Why on earth?’” Her mimicry of the lady in question was perfect. “Aghh. One day I’ll say something rude.” She sighed. “Well, no I won’t because I just can’t. Oh, sorry. Perhaps I need to introduce myself?”
Molly laughed and shook her head. “No need, my lady. I recognize you. But I confess I’m at a loss to understand why you are...ohhh...” She remembered just what had been imparted to her of late.
“Exactly.” Jane Nicholby grimaced and undid the ties of the large and unflattering hat that had partially covered her face. “The fact that people knew Felix Sotherby was even contemplating asking me for my hand in marriage was bad enough. I personally had no idea. To cap it all, now he has kindly informed me,
as a friend,
that he will announce his engagement to Miranda Copthorn within days. What is it about men?”
Molly patted her arm. The information Jane had imparted surprised her. “So there had been no communication between you?” she asked.
Jane shook her head. “No more than with any other gentleman. A dance at Almacks and a polite conversation or two at a soiree. Nothing that made me think he was contemplating a change in my status. I had thought I’d made it very clear I was not of a mind to alter that. Well, not unless...” She nibbled the finger of a grey glove, and Molly realized how inhospitable she was being.
“Ah, perhaps we should go into the drawing room, my lady,” Molly suggested. “I’m afraid my staff is not here at the moment, but I do have a fine Madeira handy.”
“That sounds perfect.” Jane stripped off her gloves and opened her pelisse. “Make it a large one please. And please, if you will, do not keep calling me
my lady
. My name is Jane and if I don’t hear it on someone’s lips soon, I’ll forget it.”
“Then
Jane
follow me. We’ll get cozy and you can explain why you’re here.”
“Ha, I wonder.” Jane’s voice was gloomy and her countenance showed a degree of strain. “I’m not sure I know myself.”
Curiouser, and curiouser.
However, Molly knew how hard it was for some people to admit they needed help of any sort, let alone with sexual connotations. She opened the door to the snug parlor she used when alone and indicated the soft chair set to one side of the glowing fire. “Let me have your pelisse.” She put the garment over the coat stand she kept tucked in the corner of the room. “That chair is comfortable.” She poured two glasses of Madeira, handed one to Jane, and took the chair opposite. “Now, how can I—or not—help?”
Jane twirled the glass between her hands and the golden liquid glinted in the firelight. She was silent for several seconds. Strangely, Molly decided the silence was restful, even though she sensed Jane was in turmoil over something.
At last Jane spoke. “This is so hard. You know, of course, I am a widow with a reputation for being so devoted to my late husband that no other man interests me?”
Molly nodded. “It is said you would only entertain a marriage for security, nothing else.” She chose not to impart other information she’d heard. This was down to her guest.
“Well, that’s something I suppose.” Jane spoke in a bitter voice. “Though why, when I have never ever shown any interest in remarrying, that should be decided I have no idea.”
“The ton has to have a reason for everything. As most widows wish to remarry and you have shown no interest, I assume it was decided you were heartbroken and no one could take his place.”
Jane sipped her wine and looked at Molly from over the top of her glass. Molly thought she’d never seen so much misery in a pair of eyes before. Their normal green had darkened almost to grey, and she was sure the sparkle of tears coated the lashes that surrounded them. Molly said nothing, and waited for Jane to compose herself.
“In one way that’s true. In another it’s nothing like that at all. Oh, this is so difficult. I’ve never had someone I could confide in, and I hardly know where to start. For if what I’m about to impart becomes widely known, my dear Nic’s reputation will be in tatters and that I could not bear.” She squared her shoulders and downed the rest of her wine in one large swallow. “Right, so this is in confidence?”
“Of course.” Molly was mystified, and knew it showed in her tone of voice. Since she’d begun her school she’d tutored many young people in the art of seduction. This led to being privy to many secrets, some of which were not as well hidden as others. But she had never heard anything about Lady Jane Nicholby’s late husband. “My reputation is staked on my ability to remain silent about others. I never judge, for I have been in the position of the one condemned and I believe the adage do not judge until you have walked a mile in the person’s shoes to be apt. Who knows why we need to do some things and not others? It is a mystery only the person involved can answer. Believe me when I say anything discussed remains between us unless, with your permission, it is divulged to one other person who may be able to help. Only you know if my word is good enough, but I can’t reassure you any other way.”
“I know, and I must trust you or I wouldn’t be here, would I?” Jane said prosaically. “So, this is my dilemma. Oh, may I have more wine? I promise I won’t get bosky. If there was one thing Nic taught me, it was how to hold my liquor. Usually port or brandy, but Madeira is good.”
Molly laughed and refilled both their glasses. To say she was intrigued would be an understatement. “I have all here, but perhaps we best not mix our drinks? Not if we need to keep a reasonably clear head.”
Jane giggled. When Molly thought about it, she realized it was the first carefree sound she had heard Jane make. Even though she’d never spoken to Jane, Molly had seen her around ever since she—Molly—had become Addersley’s mistress all those years ago. Young ladies and the demi-monde didn’t interact. Now as a semi-respectable schoolmistress who could count both the Earl and Countess of Addersley amongst her closest friends she still saw Jane often enough to know she rarely looked happy. The giggle, short lived though it might be, gave Molly heart that whatever was wrong could be overcome.
“True enough,” Jane sobered and answered Molly. “What I have to say will be hard enough without befuddling my thought process. I feel as if I’m about to commit the biggest betrayal ever, and it is crucifying me. But for you to understand my predicament I have to tell you a story. One that goes back many years to when I was sixteen and spending the summer at the home of my cousins. Reginald Nicholby was their closest neighbor and he and John, my cousin, were bosom pals, along with Luke De Freitas. They were the golden boys. I adored them all. Or maybe that is a simplification of the situation.” She bit her lip as she concentrated on the best way to continue. “I adored John in a cousinly way, and by default Nic, as he seemed to be an extension of my cousin. Imagine my shock when I discovered how true that thought was. Luke, I just worshipped. I only had to see him to get the strangest tingle inside. When he touched me, in any innocent way, my skin went on fire and my nipples would peak so hard they hurt. And my—” she blushed, swallowed, and cleared her throat. “My quim and channel would be moist. Of course I had no idea what it meant. Nor the way Nic and John looked at each other, frequently held each other, and Luke stood back, almost as if he was on guard for them.”
“Ah.” Now Molly had an inkling what Jane was hinting. “I had heard nothing.”
“I’m relieved to hear it. Now where was I? Ah yes. I yearned for Luke, but he ignored me. Except sometimes I saw the way he looked at me. As if I was the Holy Grail, and he couldn’t touch or hold me—it... It gave me hope. Maybe one day, when I was older, he’d let us discover what we may feel for each other.
Then one hot afternoon, the boys—well, men as they were nigh on twenty then—said they were going to swim in the river and I was not invited. Of course it annoyed me. Why not? I was as hot as they were and I needed to cool off as much as them. So I followed them. And what I saw, well...” Her voice trailed away and she stared into the fire.
“They were getting hotter?”
Jane jumped, as if she’d been deep in thought. “Oh, yes. I must have been fully half an hour behind them. Long enough for them to get naked, swim, and carry on as they intended. When I arrived, Luke was nowhere to be seen, John was bollocks deep inside Nic’s arse, and they were both shouting their completion.”
Chapter Two
As she spoke those words, words she’d carried around inside her for almost twenty years, a great weight lifted from Jane’s heart. Molly looked neither disgusted nor surprised, and for that Jane was thankful. Whether Molly would accept her next revelation so easily she had no idea.
“I turned away so that they wouldn’t know I was there, and ran into Luke. A very naked Luke. And I looked my fill. He was magnificent. I stretched out to stroke his staff. He was furious, and pushed my hand away. Heaven help me I slapped him for asking me what the hell I was doing. He shook me, and then kissed me.” She smiled at the memories. “It was enough to set those trembles off even faster. When he put his hands on me and stroked my breasts, I wanted more. I pressed myself to him, and he nigh on threw me away. Then he told me he apologized. That his dark side had taken over, and he hoped I could forgive him his temerity at doing such a thing.” She sighed. “Forgive something that made me yearn for whatever else men did to women? There was nothing to forgive and I told him so. However, he bade me go home and forget all of what had transpired that day. But I could not. Luke had given me a glimpse of what I wanted. John and Nic had seemed so happy, and I wondered why it was considered perverse, and why so few people indulged.”
“It’s more common than a lot of people think,” Molly said softly. “I pity those who feel that way and have to be so clandestine about their feelings. Love, in my mind, is love be it between men, women, or a mixture of each. But it must have been hard for you. Did you love Nic?”
“Nic? No, but he was special, an extra cousin, so to speak. Luke? Oh, I had what would be known as an infatuation for him. I’d weave the most ridiculous scenarios around him in my mind. He was my hero, my savior, and my husband all rolled into one. Well, none of those came true. However, I did marry. Just not in the manner I expected.” She took a deep breath. “No, that is not fair. I knew fine why Nic asked me to marry him and what to expect. You see I didn’t let him know I’d seen them, not then. How could I? Not because it disgusted me, for it didn’t. It intrigued me, and made me wonder if it would be the same between a man and a woman. I dreamed of the day Luke would show me, because I read some books, and learned that lots of boys experimented—especially at school. I wondered if Luke had. He, along with Nic and John, had gone away to school together, so I thought it was the done thing there. I had no doubt that once they left Cambridge, Luke would offer for me, and then after we were married I would know. Well I married, but not to whom I expected. Luke came to me one day. Told me he was leaving the country and to watch over Nic. I asked why, but he wouldn’t say. Then Nic offered for my hand, and I accepted.”