Miss Simpkins' School: Jane (3 page)

The sound of the knocker reverberated through the house, and Luke frowned. Who on earth would be calling at—he checked the clock that ticked away on the mantle—just shy of eleven at night? Most people would be at a ball, or in bed, even if it weren’t their own. He heard the measured tread of Cuthberts, his major domo, cross the hall and felt a pang of contrition. It seemed wrong that Cuthberts had to come upstairs from his own quarters, when Luke had dismissed him for the night. However, it would be useless to say so. Cuthberts had very rigid ideas regarding propriety, and Luke answering the door came nowhere near them. It was no surprise, therefore, when a few moments later there was a discrete knock on the study door. Bet stirred and woofed as she got to her feet, all guard dog. Heavens knew she’d probably lick an intruder to death.

Cuthberts put his head around the door. “Your face looks worse now, my lord,” he said in his usually punctilious manner. “And there is a lady to see you. A Miss Simpkins.”

“Molly?” Good lord had the news of his evening reached her already? “Show her in.”

Cuthberts disappeared to return a few seconds later to usher a very elegant Molly in. She turned full circle as Cuthberts bowed and left the room, and finally brought her gaze back to Luke.

“And how is the other man? Dead?”

He laughed. “He’s fine. He just can’t walk without a wince and looks like he’s second cousin to a newly made eunuch. Enough that if he can sing he’ll make Marchesi jealous at any rate.”

“Hmm. You are an idiot, Luke. I’d heard you’d turned a new leaf and were bored of mischief.”

“I am,” Luke said in a protesting voice. “But what would you have me do, if I find my mistress sharing her favors with another in my house? Step back and say ‘oh please continue and enjoy my hospitality both of you’? I think not.”

“No,” Molly agreed with him. “Oh dear. So this is the result?” She gestured at his face. “To be honest, I had thought you ended the arrangement with Lady Matcham weeks ago. She seemed to intimate it was so.”

“That says it all,” Luke replied and grimaced as the throb in his jaw increased. “She just failed to tell me. I was cuckolded well and truly.”

“Then she is the fool not you,” Molly said. “That, I think, may well work in my favor. If your cock and balls are in full working order?”

Luke howled with laughter, and winced as pain shot through his prick and into the rest of his body. Shaking wasn’t the way to go. “I don’t know. I have had no chance to try them out. Are you offering to help me?” He raised one eyebrow cautiously. As it gave him no extra pain, he followed it with a wink.

Molly stared at him. “In a way.”

Luke knew fine his jaw dropped, because it hurt like hades. It was Molly’s turn to laugh.

“Not personally, but I do have a proposition for you.”

He sat up in his chair. “What sort of proposition? I distrust that look Molly. What are you up to?”

“Very little other than running my school, and standing godmama to the Addersley twins. However, I have a student, for want of a better word, who must lose her virginity, and learn all the little nuances of good sex. Therefore she needs an expert. I thought of you.”

Luke wondered just what Molly had eaten in her dinner. Surely no one served opiates as a side dish?

“Molly, I don’t deflower virgins.”
Not even when I had the chance.
“Never have, never will, unless—god forbid—I marry.”

“Oh, I think you might this time, and you’ll be glad you did, especially when, after you agree, I tell you who she is.”

“No.” He may be cutting off his nose to spite his face, and wonder just who Molly thought he would be eager to despoil, but he had ethics. Or did he? His nosiness got the better of him. “Who?”

“Not unless I have your word you’ll do it.”

“Hell, Molly, she could look like the back end of a farmer’s nag and have a voice like Maria Moorcroft. It would deflate my cock faster than you could say quim. If I could get it up in the first place.”

“After, and remember just what I know about you. Duels, smuggling.... Need I go on?”

“Threats and blackmail, Molly?” He rose to tower over her. Instead of being intimidated, she stood next to him and ran her finger over his reddened and swollen skin, scraping her nails just enough to make him wince.

“No threats or blackmail, Luke. Just good, honest promises. I’ll see myself out. Oh, and you have twenty four hours to tell me what arrangements you’ve made.”

She left the room. Luke watched the door close slowly behind her. Maybe his ethics were not as solid as he thought. He proceeded to empty the brandy bottle.

After one half hearted yelp, Bet hid under the table.

Chapter Four

“That’s fine, Betty, thank you,” Jane watched as her maid slid the last chemise into her valise and closed it, then she turned to her housekeeper who stood nearby. “Now the coach should be here in a few minutes. I have everything I need and intend to spend at least a week with Miss Lenzie. Her aches and pains mean she can no longer crochet so I intend to help her out.
And God forgive me for those lies. In fact, Leenie forgive me for I’ve never known a less achy person than she, and she wouldn’t touch my crochet except to unpick it.

Jane wasn’t renowned for her creative skills, and it didn’t bother her at all.
“I trust you to keep an eye on the rest of the staff, Mrs. Buckingham, and make sure the house runs a smoothly as possible. It may be as well to begin to holland cover the unused rooms because I think we should go to Chivenor and enjoy some time there once I return.” Protecting the furniture with the large sheets of cloth should keep the staff too busy to wonder why she chose to visit her friend at such an unusual time of year. “Actually, now I have a mind to it, I’ll go to Chivenor from Miss Lenzie’s, so arrange for the household to remove to the country as soon as you can.” That should pass the time successfully, and in fact Jane realized she needed the open countryside of her own Lincolnshire home. “Make sure everyone has a day off before you leave.” Some staff had families in London, even though most of them hailed from Chivenor.

The tap on her door heralded a footman to say the coach was waiting. Feeling faintly nauseous, Jane followed him downstairs and outside to stand on the elegant flight of steps that led from the street to the front door. A second footman carried her luggage and handed it to the coachman. Once it was secure, Jane made her way to the vehicle where a liveried attendant helped her inside, and made sure she was comfortable. The hour was not yet advanced, for the message Molly had sent was to be prepared for a long journey and an overnight stay before she reached her destination. She hadn’t told Jane where that destination was or whom she would meet. It was all very mysterious and somewhat worrying. The fact that at the end of her travels she may well change her status from maiden to woman only added to the pressure building inside. What if she had no aptitude for sex? If the sight of a naked man abhorred her, and the actual act bored her. What then?

Jane firmly quashed her worries. After all on the few occasions she had seen a man in his birthday suit, it had intrigued her. So very different from herself.
This will not be as a voyeur, but as a willing participant in whatever is to happen.
She jumped at the sting of excitement that coursed through her. It boded well for the future. Satisfied that she would be able to face whoever he was to meet with equilibrium, be he clothed or unclothed, Jane looked out of the window. To the north then. She took note of a mental map. Hitchin? Not far enough. Stamford? Much too far to overnight there even if if they did a long day’s travel. The coach was well sprung, and the horses prime cattle, which could be changed at any posting inn. Even so, she was sure Molly would put the passenger’s welfare to the fore.

Her destination could be anywhere north of the capital. In fact, it would be easy to circle around and end up back near where she started. Jane gave up speculating, and opened the circulating novel she had slipped into her reticule. It wasn’t often she had the luxury of enforced idleness.

Several hours later—long enough for her tummy to rumble and her mouth to become dry—the coach lurched over cobbles as it turned into the yard of a pretty whitewashed inn. The door opened and a young fresh-faced girl of around eighteen years curtsied to Jane. “My lady, I’ve been asked to tend to you for the rest of your journey. We’ll stop here for luncheon, and then by your leave press on to our overnight destination.” The look on her face was a combination of appeal and terror. Jane translated it as one of
please don’t ask questions
. Jane took pity on her.

“Perfect, I’m famished and I need to freshen up. What do I call you?”

“Lizzie, my lady.”

“Then lead the way, Lizzie.”

***

By the following afternoon Jane was sick of coaches, travelling, and the prosy writings of her alleged romantic novel. Only Lizzie’s innocent cheerfulness kept Jane from screaming. Some might think the journey romantic. Jane was beginning to suspect it was merely to confuse her, and disguise her destination. When, as the sun began to set over an old stone church they rumbled passed, and Lizzie looked out of the window and clapped her hands, Jane sat up and took interest in the passing scenery.

“Five minutes, my lady, and we’ll be home. Look ahead. Do you see the copse of trees? The gates are near there.”

Ah, but the gates to where?
Jane was still none the wiser. The day’s luncheon stop made her think of Nottinghamshire, but that was several hours previous. Lizzie strangely had no definitive accent, and spoke very properly. With each passing mile, Jane was convinced the bulk of the journey was unnecessary.

The coach stopped by the gates and Lizzie stood up. “I’ll be leaving you now, my lady. I hope your visit goes well.”

Her companion swung out of the coach and closed the door behind her before Jane had time to utter a word. To her surprise, the coach didn’t turn through the gates but continued down the lane. The track became narrower and branches began to scrape the sides of the vehicle as they moved forward. Jane changed her mind about looking out of the window too closely and watched from a safe seat in the middle of the carriage as branches and twigs whipped by.

The lane was well rutted and the carriage swayed like a ship in a storm. Jane started to doubt her sanity. After all, what did she really know about Molly Simpkins? Only what she’d garnered from others. Yes, she’d taken to the lady, and the gossip she had heard was favorable, but that faded to nothing as she was driven to where? And to whom?

As one particularly violent lurch landed her on the floor, Jane began to swear under her breath. Her husband and his lover had treated her as an equal and rarely tempered their language around her. Their language had often been impolite, and more suited to a taproom than a drawing room. Jane had never minded. Now, as she ran through her vocabulary of epithets, she was glad she knew them. Really it was ridiculous. Only the thought of the tiny lady’s pistol in her reticule gave her some sense of protection.

She stayed in relative safety on the floor as the vehicle turned a corner. All of a sudden the lurching stopped and the coach moved smoothly forward. She ventured up onto her knees and glanced outside. The view had changed to a wider avenue of trees, and in the distance some cows were settling down, presumably for the night. The first star appeared in the dusky sky, and Jane couldn’t help but gain a sense of peace from the sight. She levered herself from the floor and sat on the squabs again, brushing her pelisse down as she did so. If she was nearing her destination she wanted to look cool and composed, not like a hoyden who’d just enjoyed a roll in the hay. The unfortunate expression and its connotations made her giggle. Not much chance of that.

The sensation of tendrils of hair tickling her cheeks made her withdraw a small comb from her reticule to tidy the strands back into their pins. With a sigh, Jane wished she had the forethought to keep a damp cloth beside her. Her hands were grubby, and she felt she would be at a distinct disadvantage with whoever she was to meet. At least they knew whom they would bed. Jane had no idea.

As it was, she didn’t have long to wait. Just as she glimpsed a honey-stoned house, the carriage stopped, and the door of the carriage opened. A familiar, and most unwanted voice spoke to her.

“What’s the correct greeting now? Oh yes; hell has frozen over.”

Jane almost fell out of the carriage door. A loud ringing in her ears warned her she was about to pass out.
I must be imagining things. Life can’t be so cruel as to play that sort of trick on me surely
. Her skin was clammy and the thud of her heart vied with the ringing to be the loudest and most persistent.

“Ah...” Jane had no idea what to say. She just stared at the man in front of her. Silhouetted against the darkening sky, he looked as if he lived up to every name ever attached to his.

“So, you need a good fucking, Jane? That’s a turn up for the books now isn’t it? And what poetic justice it is that I’ve been chosen as the one to give it to you? I have such a week planned out for us. I don’t think you’ll be able to sit comfortably, and I’m damned sure any material against your tender skin will hurt like the proverbial hell we’ve just melted. But then, as you’ll spend the best part of the week naked it will be not only no material, but immaterial.” Her nemesis laughed. To Jane it sounded like a death knell.

“Now, my lady, may I help you out and into the warm. No time like the present to begin.”

Jane did the only thing she could think of. How on earth, once she’d heard he was back in England, could she have kept a tiny glimmer of hope that they might one day be together? He was a cad. She kicked out hard, felt her foot connect with soft, clothed flesh, got immense satisfaction from the grunt of pain she heard... and fainted.

Chapter Five

It was hard not to feel a flicker of sympathy for the comatose woman in front of him, even though she’d just done her best to rearrange his balls and ensure that if they did have sex there would be no chance of any repercussions. Luke studied her as impartially as he could while looking at a well-turned ankle and pale alabaster skinned legs that seemed to go on forever. His balls hurt like hades and felt lodged in his arse, and his cock deflated and hid. Even the thought of that well aimed thrust gave him pain.