Free Miss Simpkins' School: Jane by Raven McAllan Page A

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