Miss Simpkins' School: Jane (2 page)

“So you married and learned the mysteries and joys of love making.”

Jane swallowed. Could she say the words out loud?
I must.
“Well, actually, I didn’t. That’s one of the reasons I can never marry. For after a marriage that spanned almost two decades, I’m still a virgin.”

Molly got up out of her chair and put her arms around Jane. The sympathy needed no words, and Jane gulped back tears. If she started to cry who knew when she’d be able to stop? Some might say crying was cathartic, but not at that moment. It would more likely become a full-blown attack of the dismals.

“No wonder you always looked sad,” Molly said. “Never to have experienced a man’s cock in you anywhere is a sorry state of affairs. We must remedy that. Oh, if that is what you want of course.”

“I do, but I fail to see how it can be accomplished without giving away the state of my marriage. Please, do not think I was unhappy because I wasn’t. I married Nic willingly, and knowing what to expect. He was open and frank with me. I knew it was the only thing to do, for both his and John’s sake. Luke had left the country, so I didn’t worry overmuch about never experiencing anything physical. I knew that in their own way Nic and John both loved me. It was just that their love for each other was stronger and more compelling.” She scrubbed at her eyes, where the sting of fresh tears warned her of her emotional state. Molly passed her a square of linen and Jane wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Luke? I have no idea what his feelings were.” She twisted the handkerchief between her fingers. Molly took it from her and placed it on a shallow tray.

“Thank you. Anyway, I need to go back in time. To explain how we came to marry. After that afternoon, when Luke broke my heart I began to notice how John and Nic looked at each other. How a seemingly innocent touch was not innocent, and how often they had a need to do something in a hurry and would be back soon. Then one afternoon, I went into the library to find Nic weeping on John’s shoulder. It seemed his papa had noticed their closeness and decreed Nic had to marry to get rid of his unmanly ideas. His cousin Honoria, yes she of the cat like tittle-tattle, was suggested. I was only sixteen, and not fully out, but even I knew what a shrew she was. Nic’s life would be made a misery. So I suggested he married me, and divulged I knew how close he and my cousin were. At first I thought we would still be man and wife in the conventional sense, but that he and John would also be lovers. Nic explained it would not be so, and said he’d understand if I changed my mind. I didn’t. So, unconventional as it may have been, it worked for us and in our own ways we were happy. Until someone got wind of what was really going on. I think, though I’m not sure, that blackmail may have been involved. All I do know is that John and Nic were experienced sailors who wouldn’t have fallen over board, storm or not, unless they wanted to. I honestly think they chose that way to save us from humiliation and ruin. The problem is though, here I am, and if I do remarry as expected, the humiliation and ruin could well happen anyway. Any man marrying me would expect an experienced woman to warm his bed, not an inexperienced virgin.”

The silence was broken only by the shout of the lamplighter in the square outside and the rumble of wheels as a carriage trundled over the cobbles. Molly stood up and lit the lamps before she turned to look down at Jane.

“What do
you
want though?”

“That’s just it; I’m not sure. Oh, I’d like to experience a man in me, or whatever happens, but I reckon it would be a messy business.”

Molly shouted with laughter. “Only if you chose for it to be. But why do you say that?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Well, on the few occasions I came upon my... er well, you know, one spilled over the other’s body, it looked sticky and messy. Does it really happen like that?”

Molly contemplated her and Jane’s breathing sped up. Maybe after all these years she would find out.

“Sometimes, but it’s a pleasurable messy. Do you want someone to show you?”

“Who?” Jane asked baldly. “It would need to be someone very special I think. Because it’s not for love and well—”

Molly held up her hand and Jane faltered into silence.

“Jane, love doesn’t have to come into it. Of course it adds something extra, but believe me, sex and love are not the same thing. Lots of people enjoy one without the other. How else would the demi-monde ply their trade?”

That was something Jane hadn’t thought of. She felt somewhat foolish, but before she had a chance to say so, Molly began to speak again. “Lovers come in many guises, and I think I may have the very man for you. You do want a man, and not a woman?”

A woman?
“Oh yes, a man please. Do you mean ladies er...?”

“Yes, ladies do er...not all, but some, and why not?” Molly asked. “We don’t choose our sexuality; it is part of us. If men can love men, why not women loving women?”

“No reason, I just hadn’t thought of it,” Jane said. “Now I have, and I want a man, please. One who will show me everything there is, and teach me how to be involved. Then, if I ever do have to remarry, at least I can do so on equal terms.”

“Have to?”

Damn.
Jane wanted to kick herself. She aught to have known Molly would pick up on her terminology. “At the moment I’m able to live my own life, but sooner or later I suspect some well meaning relative will interfere. Probably my uncle, who will decide my single life is a waste. He grieves for John, and has always seen me as a surrogate daughter. In his mind women need a man. He always said how sorry he was that John and I were first cousins and he disapproved of such close relatives marrying. It’s as well, for John was the brother I never had. It would have seemed like incest.”

“I can understand that. It may take a while, but I do have a candidate in mind. I’ll get back to you when I have spoken to him. Where do you want your initiation, for want of a better word, to happen?”

Jane blinked. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Certainly not where they might be discovered. “Um...”

“It’s all right. If he agrees, he and I will arrange things. Can you be available to leave town at short notice without alarming anyone?”

“Let me see.” Jane thought rapidly. “Yes, well if you give me a day’s notice, I can say I need to visit Leenie, my old nanny. Whenever I go there I go alone, for she has no space for anyone else in her house. Allegedly. In fact there’s plenty of room, but it’s our time without rules and regulations. Just me, her, and Pootie.”

“Leenie? Pootie?”

“Ah,” Jane said and giggled. Really it was becoming a new habit. “Miss Lenzie, and her, well man friend I think you could say. General Postlethwaite. They’ve lived together this past ten years, and if ever I need to escape it’s to them in Yorkshire I go.”

“That sounds perfect. Yorkshire is a fair distance and news won’t travel fast.” Molly picked up Jane’s pelisse, and Jane realized it was dark outside and the fire had burned low. “Can you take clothes with you?”

“What?” Jane fastened her pelisse and picked up her gloves. “Yes, that’s no problem. Just perhaps not ones suited for the occasion.”

“Then pack what you would usually pack, and I’ll sort the rest. How do you travel there by the way?”

“I hire a coach.”

“Even better.” Molly’s voice was full of satisfaction, and Jane couldn’t help the thrill that ran through her. Life was looking up apace.

“One thing, Jane?”

Jane looked up in query as she fiddled with the buttons on her gloves.

“I will need to tell two people at least some of your story. They can be trusted.”

Her heart sank. “Two?” Even one more person was enough for all sorts of unwelcome scenarios to rush into her mind.

“One is a lady who can advise me if I have the right man in mind. She has suffered herself, and will be as close as the grave with the information. The other is the man himself, if she thinks I’m right.”

“Then if you trust them, so will I. After all, I have trusted you.” There really wasn’t anything else she could say, even though spiders crawled over her skin, and a troupe of Morris Dancers performed in her stomach.

Chapter Three

Luke De Freitas contemplated the glass of brandy he rested on his stomach and sighed. The glass rose and fell, and the liquid swayed perilously near the lip of the goblet. He was bored. Of the capital, of his soon to be ex mistress, and of the ton. Heaven help him if he wasn’t ready to go back to sea except his papa would no doubt expire in an apoplectic fit and he’d just be called back to be the earl. As it was, he lived a fairly unencumbered lifestyle—if he ignored the ever-increasing demands of Lady Matcham—as the alleged spoiled elder son of an aged father, and doting mother.

His title, taken from their sugar plantation in the West Indies, was one well known in the upper echelons of society with the additional sobriquets of mad, bad, devil may care De Freitas. He knew it was well earned. Luke lived hard, and didn’t care who knew it. But only he knew why. To be told by your father you were born on the wrong side of the blanket, a bastard, and only the heir due to his parent’s desire not to be known as a cuckold, tended to upset your equilibrium—and your life. Luke had left the country, and did his best to forget the young lady whose eyes followed him whenever they met.

It was hard. He also had to do his best to forget the feel of her lithe body pressed up against his naked one. How he’d ignored her unconscious invitation he had no idea. It was one of the few truly noble acts he’d accomplished for many a year. He forged a path at sea and in the Caribbean for himself, and established a new and comfortable life there. If he knew something was lacking, Luke hadn’t admitted it to anyone. Life was what it was.

Called home due to his parent’s increasing ill health, Luke had discovered things he liked and didn’t know he’d missed about England. Along with an ability to manage the family estates well and profitably. Even so, he’d been loath to change certain parts of his lifestyle at first, and continued to live hard and fast. Now, however, he sensed a difference in himself and he had no idea why. Maybe it had something to do with the fact the only woman he thought he could have cared for told him in no uncertain terms she wanted nothing to do with him, and his offer was offensive. As he thought it was an agreement similar to the one she had enjoyed with a certain earl, he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. However, he had been sent away with a flea in his ear. To make matters worse and compound his misery, he suffered a visit from the aforementioned gentleman. Words such as duel and de-balled had been uttered in a tone that meant it was no idle threat.

Luke had accepted the diktat, and set out to earn his nickname even more. A further approach, much later, to another lady resulted in a more physical set back, and Luke was forced to look at himself hard and long. It was unpleasant viewing.

A recent visit from the first lady he’d tried unsuccessfully to win since his return had sobered him. She’d been scathing about his activities and told him that those showed her, if anything did, how right she was to turn him down. He obviously hadn’t meant a word he said, and if he wanted to kill himself that was all fine and dandy. Just do it in a less messy fashion and don’t take anyone else with him. Her look of contempt, more than the words she spoke, hit him hard and he took another long look at himself. Again, Luke didn’t like what he saw.

Now, as he slumped deep in thought, he knew he had to shake himself up and get out of his rut. For the last six months, he’d lived an exemplary life in the main and it nigh on killed him. The odd sparring match at Jackson’s Salon and the few gaming hells he’d been to didn’t count. Luke was no gambler, and his peers hardly bothered to ask him to attend the hells any more. He’d enjoyed his time at his father’s country estates, and learned a lot, but it wasn’t enough. A quick and able student, he needed more than yields, thatching, and the rotation of crops and animals. He needed companionship and a good session of sex. Several good sessions. His hours with the fair Lady Matcham left him dissatisfied, and if the rumors were true, he wasn’t getting all her attention these days. Enough was enough.

With sudden determination Luke sat up, knocked back the brandy, and disturbed Bet, his border collie who snored gently over his tassled hessians. She grunted and half sat up. Luke slipped his feet from under her belly and gave her a quick rub with the tip of his boots. “Don’t move. I’m only going to finish what I should have done weeks ago. I’ll be back before you even want your supper.” Bet yelped in agreement and Luke snorted. Now he was holding full conversations with a dog. He had to do something positive with his life. “Wish me luck and let this cursed affair be over and done without insult or injury.”

Bet snored.

***

He was almost in luck. Nursing a swollen jaw with a glass of brandy, which he decided was surely acceptable after the last few hours he’d had, Luke once more spoke to Bet. “Damned if it wasn’t worth this.” He gestured to his jaw. “I might have been taken for a fool, but not an incapacitated one. Rushton will be walking with a limp and a wince for a while now. How dare she?”

Bet snuffled.

“Yes, well, I could almost accept she’d taken another lover, but not in the house I paid for. Anyway it’s over and the house goes on the market tomorrow.”

He’d taken great pleasure in bundling a naked Lady Matcham, and an equally naked Rushton onto the pavement surrounded by her dresses and furbelows. She’d cried, Rushton had cursed, and Luke had laughed. That was when a wild swing by Rushton had resulted in Luke’s sore jaw and Rushton’s aching balls.

Luke experienced so much enjoyment at the sight of Alicia Matcham trying to cover herself from the prying eyes of three potboys and the Watch that he failed to retaliate. In truth, he decided seeing Rushton’s swaying bits and bobs shrivel in the unseasonably chill evening air was enough punishment for the man. The nicely timed kick Luke gave him was the icing on the cake.

He had to hope no news of the fracas got back to his father, or indeed any member of the ton. Luckily, the house he’d purchased for his mistress and himself to enjoy their liaison wasn’t in the most fashionable area of town, and the contretemps had occurred when the ton was thin on the ground. Those who were in the capital were already out at their evening activities. Luke was more than glad he hadn’t bowed to Alicia’s pressure and purchased a dwelling in a fashionable square. With luck, all that would be known was he no longer had a mistress. He made a note to let it be put about he didn’t want another one. It was time for something deeper and more meaningful. Heaven help it, maybe time for a wife? He shuddered.
Please, god no.
Not when the one person he could have married would probably never speak to him again.