Miss Simpkins' School: Jane Read Free Page B

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 going 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