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 g
oing 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.
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.
Miss Simpkins' School: Jane Page 2