Miss Simpkins School: Flora (2 page)

“I’m sure you can’t but we’ll see.” Tilly worried her lip. “Anyhow this is not about me. It is about F... er, my friend. One moment, you said we. Who is
we
? Not my sister. She is about to produce the start of the next generation of Addersleys. I don’t want her worried.”

“Not Adriana,” Molly said as she made haste to reassure the younger girl. “She has friends who will aid me where necessary. Adriana and Ash are my, my mentors, I think I can say, but several other people have pledged to help if help is needed.” She waited with as much patience as she could muster, while Tilly paced the room. After several minutes, as the air seemed thicker, and the tick of the clock louder, Tilly looked at her cloaked friend, who nodded.

“Then I’ll leave you both to chat,” she said. “Although I may well come for advice at some point in the near future, this isn’t about me.” She hugged her companion who returned the gesture. “When shall I return for you?”

Molly wondered if the hood was ever going to be removed to reveal the identity of her visitor. It was time to intervene. “Do you need to? Can I not procure a hackney? Even though I may not have any staff in place, I’m able to step out and perform that small act. I have feet to walk to the main thoroughfare, and a shrill whistle to attract attention. And I will accompany l…” She stopped herself saying more. After all, she still hadn’t been shown who the other person was.

“I don’t know.” Tilly sounded dubious. “It’s not up to me.”

“No, it’s up to me,” her companion said, and pulled back the hood. “I’m sorry, I’m being so stupid. I’m the one who needs help and fast. I’ll be fine, Tilly, really. My brother is at Tattershalls and won’t even know I’m missing. Anyhow, he thinks I’m at Lady Fenton’s tea party, with lots of other people. She thinks I’m at Lydia Howe’s poetry reading, and Lydia thinks I’m somewhere else. All my tracks are well concealed. I’ll make my way home in a hackney and see you at the Markham Ball tonight.”

Tilly nodded. “Then I’ll leave you.”

Molly accompanied her to the door. “And what about someone to accompany you?”

Tilly grinned. “My maid is waiting in the carriage over there. I covered all eventualities. Bessie is loyal and knows what problems I and others face.” She gave Molly a swift hug. After a brief hesitation, Molly returned it. It still felt strange. At times she was convinced she’d wake up to find herself asleep over a ball gown, needle in hand.

“I’ll be back soon, Molly, for me, once I work out what I need to know.” Tilly sketched a wave, ran down the steps, and across the square to where a carriage waited. With a deep sense of foreboding Molly closed the door, and went back to the sewing room.
I really must start thinking of it as a parlor.

As she entered the room its occupant turned, and gave her a half smile.

“I’m glad you don’t mind me pushing myself on you, but truly I have so little time to decide what to do.”

Chapter Two

Flora Gilchrist bit her lip. Her heart was thumping loud enough to drown out the sound of the clock, and she had the hint of an incipient headache. Had she done the correct thing by turning to Molly Simpkins for help? If it hadn’t been for Tilly’s assistance she would have been stuck in an impossible situation. As it was, Flora didn’t think she’d have any course to follow other than the one set out for her. Nonetheless, she was going to do her best to make sure as much as possible went in her favor.

She glanced at the slender and bright-eyed lady in front of her. It was almost unbelievable that she hadn’t been born into the ton. Her dress, even though it was old and had streaks of dust over it, was of the highest quality, and the needlework perfect. Of course, Flora mused, as Molly was formerly a mantua maker, and perhaps still kept her hand in, her clothing would be so.

“Maybe we need to sit down again and you can tell me what you need?” Molly said, and waved toward a brocade-covered chair. “Would you like refreshments? It won’t take me a moment. As I said, my staff doesn’t arrive until the morrow, hence my grime. I couldn’t be inactive when I have so much to do. If I can be of service to you, believe me it will help me as well. I abhor idleness.”

Flora could understand that. She was of a like mind. Her decision made, she opened her cloak and threw it over the back of the chair before she sat down. “Wine if you have some, please. I’ve a feeling this next half hour isn’t going to be easy.”

Molly nodded but didn’t comment as she went to a sideboard and poured two glasses of a deep red wine into goblets. She passed one to Flora, who took a hasty sip. It went down her throat like liquid silk, smooth and fruity. “This is good.” Why did she sound surprised? “I’m not saying it shouldn’t,” she added in a hurry. “But it looks heavy and it isn’t.”
Argh, maybe I need to ask for social skills, not sex ones?

Molly laughed. “Well, it comes from France, and of course all duty is paid.” She winked, and then smiled. It lit up her face, and Flora saw just how she’d captivated Ashley Addersley.

“May I call you Flora? If I’m to help you, we need to feel comfortable, both of us. And in your own time, tell me what you want.”

Flora took a deep breath. “Call me Flora, please. And as to what I want? Now there’s the difficulty. I’m not sure what I want, but I do know what I don’t. I don’t want to be the sort of wife who only sees her husband in the bedchamber when he decides it is time to exercise his conjugal rights in order to begat an heir and nothing else. I do
not
want to be left to molder on whichever estate my husband decrees whilst he jaunts all over the country following his own pursuits. I don’t want that sort of marriage. Neither do I want the sort where once the heir and the spare are safe, both parties stray. I saw that with my parents, and it was agony. Neither was ever happy, and that is not for me. I want my husband to want only me, need only me. To buck the trend and be a couple who enjoy each other’s company.” She paused and smiled. “And enjoy each other as well.” Flora swallowed as her mouth went dry. She could feel the pulse in her neck beat irregularly, and her headache increase as she waited for Molly to reply. She’d practiced that speech so often it was a wonder it wasn’t imprinted on her forehead.

“Do you know what that entails?” Molly asked.

This was the difficult part. Flora was sure her cheeks were the color of the wine she was drinking much too fast. “Sort of. Fraser, the Earl of Kinfron, is paying court to me, as I’m sure you are aware. Perhaps that’s not exactly correct. The esteemed earl has approached my brother to ask for my hand in marriage. John has told him I’m agreeable and John approves. Ha, I’m agreeable? What John means is he thinks it a good match, and as he is now head of the family, his word is law. I told him I wished to meet the earl for more than one dance and a supper at Almacks before I made any decision. The bastard, oh sorry.” Flora put her hand to her cheek as Molly laughed. “I love my brother, but he rides roughshod over anyone and everyone if he deems something to be in their best interest. So, my beloved brother told me not to worry, and other such ridiculous platitudes. He is a man and thus knows best. Fustian. He may be a man, but this is my life. To be told I will be betrothed at our ball next week, and that my husband will then know what’s best for me is not acceptable. I want more.”

She stood up and began to pace. Each step made her more determined to do her best for herself. It was her life she had to determine, and she hoped there were many years of that life left. She wanted them to be happy ones, not full of misery.

“We’re both at the Markham Ball tonight, and Tilly has found me a nice private room. I want to seduce Fraser. I want to show him what he’ll be missing if he follows the course he has set out to my brother. That I will live at Kilfron. I have nothing against Kilfron; indeed I spent most of my childhood nearby, and I’m happy to spend time there—as long as he is with me. Lud knows it is an open secret in the ton that he has a mistress in Lady Senton, and I have nothing against her per se. But she’s not going to have what I can’t. I will
not
marry someone who brings his staff from one home to seat it in me. Either he wants me to the exclusion of all others, or he has the others and I’ll decline his not so generous offer.” She stood in front of Molly, well aware her hands were shaking, and her breath was choppy. It mattered, oh how it mattered.

“Could you?”

Flora sighed. “Probably not, but I’d do my best. The trouble is I’ve loved Fraser since I was a child. I vowed to marry him when I was seven, and when I was eleven asked him to wait for me. He assured me, from his advanced age of two and twenty, that if I was still of a like mind when I came out, he would offer for me and I would be his wife. Both he and John therefore think it’s a done deal. I may still love him, but times change and I’m no longer eleven with the eyes of a child. I’m nineteen, and according to my brother, well ready to be wed. When I reach the age of five and twenty, I will have money of my own. Until then, John had to support me and look after my welfare. This is his misguided way of doing so. He doesn’t realize that women have needs and desires as well as men. Am I in the minority when I say, I’ve touched myself? That I know what delicious tingles and sensations I feel when I stroke my skin both inside and out?”

Molly shook her head. “More women than anyone thinks do so. It’s normal, and needed. Sadly too often, it’s the only way a woman can be satisfied. In my profession as a seamstress, not a mistress, I heard that many times, and decided it was wrong. Thus when I was given this opportunity, I took it. There are plenty of young, unattached men, for whom a mistress is necessary. I agree that once married, a wife can be both that and a mistress. The expression ‘a wife at the dinner table, a whore in the bedroom’ sums it up.”

“Then can you, will you help me?” Flora’s heart raced, and her skin felt too small for her frame. What if Molly said no?
Don’t think of it; stay positive.
It was hard when you knew the rest of your life was at stake.

Molly nodded, and Flora let out her breath in a whoosh. “When?”

With a smile, Molly took Flora’s glass from her unresisting hand and set it on the table. “Now.”

Chapter Three

Flora smoothed her dress over her hips and took as deep a breath as her undergarments allowed. Molly had been more than explicit, and Flora was both excited and nervous. The clever lace and silk corset skimmed under her breasts and lifted them into two rounded globes, nipped in her waist, and left her newly shaved quim bare. To Flora’s surprise it didn’t make her feel confined, just confident. The silk stockings that were held up by red ribbon garters caressed her legs as she walked. Over those arousing scraps of material, Molly had decided she should wear a dress of a very pale rose pink, which was so very fine it looked almost transparent. Her brother had frowned when he saw it, but for once hadn’t commented. Perhaps it was the way she stared at him, daring him to do so, that had given him pause for thought. Instead, he’d firmed his lips and put her cloak over her shoulders.

The color should have done nothing for Flora’s Celtic coloring, but somehow it enhanced her looks. Her red hair looked shot with strands of gold, and according to Tilly who had winked when she saw her, made her green eyes appear deeper and more mysterious.

Now she stood with her brother at the edge of the ballroom, and looked around with interest. John must have seen where she glanced because he pinched her cheek.

“He’ll be here soon; he promised, and Fraser always keeps his word.”

That was what Flora hoped. Now it was almost time to put her plan into action, she wanted to get it over and done with. “I wish to dance, and if you keep glaring at anyone who approaches, I’ll be with the wallflowers for the evening.” Not that she really minded; the conversation in the chairs along the wall, where those unfortunates who didn’t have a dance partner sat, was often much more interesting than anywhere else.

John glared at her. “I stay until Fraser arrives.”

“Fraser has arrived,” a new voice announced. “I hereby absolve you of your chaperone duties. Go forth and f…find a card game.”

And if that was what he meant to say, I’m the Prince Regent.

John laughed and punched the newcomer on the arm. “I intend to.” He bowed to Flora who smiled. She couldn’t stay annoyed at her brother for long. He truly did love her and wanted what he thought was best for her. It was a just pity he didn’t listen to her point of view.

“May I say, how,” Fraser hesitated and Flora grinned. She hadn’t missed the flash of surprise, and the gleam of what she rather thought was sexual awareness in his eyes when he saw the way she was dressed, even though he had masked it. That brief glimpse of what she hoped was interest boded well. Now it was time to put her plan into action. Over by the window, Tilly nodded and fanned herself, a signal the coast was clear.

“How?” she asked. She moved her shoulders slightly, and her dress slid across her breasts, drawing his glance there. Flora took a deep breath so they swelled above the low neckline.

“Pardon?” He sounded distracted.

Good, now to move.
“You said ‘how’, and stopped,” Flora replied in what she hoped was a playful voice. “How many eggs in the basket? How am I? How long have I been waiting?” She leaned toward him, and made sure her neckline gaped just enough to hint at the rest of her creamy skinned breasts, and showed the barest hint of a dusky nipple. “Or, how does this dress stay across my bosom and not reveal more?”

“All of those,” Fraser said, and took her arm. “What are you playing at, Flora? That dress is almost indecent.”

She laughed and began to walk across the room toward a door on the far side. He caught up to walk by her side, and tucked her arm firmly into his. Most people were in the main ballroom, and they were able to make good progress. The predatory look she’d spied in his eyes on more than one occasion directed at someone else was focused on her. It sent the most delicious shivers along her spine. At least she’d engaged his interest. Now all she had to do was keep it.