Free Miss Simpkins' School: Lydia by Raven McAllan Page B

resigned herself to another five minutes of hell on Earth.
    “You know about that?” Lydia was sure her face matched the color of the ruby pin in his cravat. “Their silly idea?”
    “Of course, I know everything. And who is to say it’s silly? Perhaps you would make an ideal lady? Compliant, considerate, and... careful .”
    She trod on his toes. In your dreams . Her dreams demanded more.
    “Don’t think, just let me lead you.” He bent his head so his breath swept over her ear. “I will be honored to lead you anywhere you want, and even places you don’t think you want.”
    That made her stumble, and his grip on her waist tightened. For one second his body pressed up against her. It was so unexpected and so arousing as the bulge in his evening breeches brushed the thin material over her quim. She gasped. It was lucky, he mistook her gasp for one of innocence not one of “Oh my goodness, I want to feel more.”
    George looked down and grimaced. “My normal condition when I’m near you, my dear. You make me hard to the point of discomfort, and you don’t even realize it. One day, I’ll show you how to remedy that state of affairs. Now stop thinking or I’ll make you. And that would shock the tabbies.”
    As Lydia had no idea what he meant, but decided it might not be a good idea to find out, she did her best to do as he requested. It was oh so hard when his masculine scent filled her nostrils and his hand rested warm on her back. Now she wanted to press against him and see if it had the same affect on him as before.
    For the first time ever she floated in tune with the music and her partner. They reached the end of the ballroom and George executed a perfect turn. To her surprise instead of dancing back toward Tilly, he whisked her to one side. Before she realized what he was doing, he took her through the double doors that were open to the patio, and into the shadows.
    “So why don’t you want to come and visit me?”

Chapter Two
    Molly Simpkins checked her figures one more time, and closed the ledger in satisfaction. Who would have thought a school with such unusual subjects and so well connected tutors would be so popular? When it had been first broached, she had no idea just how many young ladies—and to her amazement—gentlemen had so many needs. Her own needs she tamped down. Once her sojourn as Ashley Addersley’s mistress ceased on his marriage, Molly had resigned herself to a life of celibacy, and achieved her satiation via her own hand. After checking her preference with her, Ashley had warned any prospective protectors she was not available. Molly wanted more or nothing. She was no longer available for that sort of dalliance.
    Now she put her ledgers away under lock and key and hung the key and its ornate chain around her waist, under her dress. The metal stroked her skin, its chill arousing and reminding her that a cold piece of steel could be used in oh so many ways. It also served as a reminder that the information held between those covers would be dynamite on the wrong hands. She looked around to make sure everything that needed to be stored or filed had been, and a note on the desk made her smile. An invitation to a wedding breakfast she would have to decline. But how good to know her pupil was happy.
    The knock on the door made her check her skirts were smooth, and her ankles covered. Really, sometimes convention was such a nuisance. As if a glimpse of an ankle would turn a man or woman into a sex starved beast, intent on plunder. If it did, Molly reckoned there would be a lot more ankles on show.
    Nevertheless, in her precarious position in the hierarchy of London class, Molly knew it was a fine line she walked. Many might wonder why she had friends in high places. No one knew better than she how easily they could turn people against her. Others would be her champion, and for those people she would do her best so that position was never needed.
    She called for the person to come in, and