Secrets and Seduction ~ A Victorian Romance and Erotic Short Story Collection. Vol. III

By Lady T.L. Jennings

“Secrets and Seduction” is a short story collection of five newly written Victorian romantic and erotic short stories and includes the following stories:
The Lady in White
Fallen Woman
Nightly Hunting
French Liaisons
The Old Rose Garden

Please note: These short stories includes erotic adult themes such as:
Forbidden desire, romantic liaisons, seduction, sensual erotica, and lesbian/bisexual themes.

Extracts from the stories:
“But still, this was nothing like that. It truly was the most innocent kiss. Nothing more, and nothing less,” he thought as he gently pressed his lips against hers.
And there was something absolutely maddening about kissing this slow and careful. Something perfectly irresistible about kissing so softly and restrained with the knowledge of what could be should they crossed the line. “Like walking on spring ice when you are tipsy,” Ewan thought. Exhilarating, fun, but utterly dangerous."
- From the short story “The Lady in White”

An extract from the story:
“For months I had longed for her, even though I had not completely understood it myself, or perhaps was unwilling to admit it, and now when she was in my arms, kissing me and caressing my breasts through the black linen maid’s dress, it felt like my skin was on fire everywhere she touched me.”
- From the short story “Fallen Woman”

“At first he could not exactly identify what it was that was wrong, distracted by the combination of increasing carnal lust and the fact that his attentiveness was somewhat diminished since he had just woken up. Therefore, it was not until he felt a second female body embracing him from behind and a soft thigh entangle itself in between his own legs that Louis understood that something was very clearly amiss.
“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” he asked out loud in French, too confused to remember to speak English. ‘What is happening?'
- From the short story “French Liaisons”

Product details:
Category: Victorian Romance and Erotica
Format: eBook
Written and published: 2013
Length: ~ 35500 words
Proofread by Pauline Nolet
Publisher: My Secret Quill

About the author:
Lady T. L. Jennings is a shy writer who loves the Victorian era and afternoon tea. She lives on the outskirts of Oxford in England, and writes Victorian erotica and romance with a dash of gothic mystique in longhand with a fountain pen.
She collects books, corsets, and lovers (all with varying levels of success).

Also by Lady T. L. Jennings:

Victorian Romance and Erotica short story collections

~ Lust and Lace ~
a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. I.

~ Corsets and Cravings ~
a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. II.

~ Secrets and Seduction ~
a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. III.

Gay Victorian Romance and Erotica

~ Different Desire ~
a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novelette Collection. Vol. I.

~ Forbidden Feelings ~
a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novelette Collection. Vol. II.

~ Complicated Affairs ~
a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novella

~ Blackmail ~
a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novella

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lady T.L. Jennings
• Release date: Apr 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311440990

Lady T.L. Jennings

Lady T. L. Jennings is a secretive writer who loves Victorian erotica and romance, afternoon tea, and small obedient dogs.Q: Where do you live?A: My residence is in Oxfordshire countryside on a secret location. Search, and you might find it...Q: Is Lady T. L. Jennings truly your real name?A: Why, of course. Well, almost. Oh well then, it is not – I prefer to write under a pseudonym. I am, however, a lady.Q: When do you write?A: Always after midnight, by the candlelight.Q: Where do you write?A: Under my blanket. Or, occasionally, on the back of my lovers.Q: What is your favourite tea?A: Ahmand’s English Breakfast. Served with milk, of course. No sugar; I am sweet enough.

Book preview

~ Secrets and Seduction ~

a Victorian Romance and Erotic Short Story Collection.

Vol. III

by Lady T. L. Jennings

All rights are reserved. This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s peculiar imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be regarded or constructed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons (living, dead, or undead), actual events, locales, organisations, or groups is wholly coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. No part of this book may be used or reused. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright © 2013 Lady T. L. Jennings

Proofread by Pauline Nolet

My Secret Quill

Victorian Romance and Erotica short story collections

by Lady T. L. Jennings

~ Lust and Lace ~

a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. I.

~ Corsets and Cravings ~

a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. II.

~ Secrets and Seduction ~

a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. III.

Gay Victorian Romance and Erotica

~ Different Desire ~

a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novelette Collection. Vol. I.

~ Forbidden Feelings ~

a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novelette Collection. Vol. II.

~ Complicated Affairs ~

a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novella

~ Blackmail ~

a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novella

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~ Short stories ~

The Lady in White

Fallen Woman

Nightly Hunting

French Liaisons

The Old Rose Garden

More by Lady T.L. Jennings

Enjoy your reading...

/ Lady T. L. Jennings

***

~ The Lady in White ~

A Victorian Romance and Erotic Short Story

by Lady T. L. Jennings

Wood! Mr Wood! Stop the carriage! Ewan Morris cried out to the driver through the carriage window, but in vain. I think we ran someone over! Stop, damn you! he added in Welsh.

If the driver refused to acknowledge him or simply could not hear him over the thunderstorm was unknown. The four horses pulling the carriage were close to panic and ran as if the devil was after them and had to be whipped to be kept in control. It was doubtful that they could be brought to a halt, regardless of what the driver ordered. However, Ewan was quite positive that they had indeed hit someone in the darkness. A woman. For a moment, he had seen a figure of a young woman in a pale dress standing awfully close to the carriage as they sped past. For the short second he had met her sad eyes, it felt as if she had looked straight into his very soul. She had a classic oval-shaped face, framed with dark hair, and large blue almond eyes, an unusual combination. Then she had suddenly disappeared, just like an illusionist’s trick at the Egyptian Hall in London. One instant she was there, and the next, she had simply vanished.

He must have run over her! Ewan reasoned, and in desperation, he opened the carriage door and looked back along the muddy road behind them. The heavy rain and the wind tore his clothes like invisible hands. He could not see her; however, that could only mean that she lay–perhaps even mortally injured!–in a ditch next to the road. The driver noticed Ewan and screamed something in Welsh, which was completely lost to a new thunderclap. Why the driver refused to stop due to silly superstition was beyond Ewan. Spineless coward! Ewan thought angrily. A woman was hurt, and there was only one thing to do. Ewan cursed, took a deep breath, and threw himself recklessly off the carriage going full speed.

It was a miracle that he did not break every bone in his body or his foolish neck, he thought, as he stood up unsteadily with a smarting ankle after taking several rolls in the mud. He ignored the pain and started to run towards where he had thought he had seen a silhouette of a woman in the flash of lightning. The driver forced the horses to a full stop despite their whinnying, and they reared in protest.

No, Mr Morris! Not that way! the driver called out in alarm after him as he saw the man following the shape of a white lady away from the carriage and into the darkness.

*

14th of May, 1826. Ewan Morris’s travelling journal

We left Cardiff early in the morning and travelled onwards west. So far, the trip from Birmingham has been without mishap. My driver, Mr Wood, is an excellent driver, and we changed horses at the Green King, a coaching inn, where we stayed during the night. Mr Wood is from Swansea and knows the area very well, and I am confident that we shall arrive on schedule to Swansea. He seems to be a reliable man, but perhaps a little too fond of telling superstitious tales.

I had dinner (a rather sad stew with mostly watery vegetables and overcooked meat; however, the bread was at least fresh and nice) in the common room and tried to brush up my Welsh by talking to the other guests. We discussed the latest news and the weather; however, I might have misunderstood because the innkeeper claimed that there was a storm coming, news which seemed to bother Mr Wood for some reason. This morning the sun was shining and not a cloud could be seen in the sky. In fact, the day has been delightful, and I can honestly say that I, for once, enjoy life as I sit here inside the carriage, watching simple farmhouses and fields passing by outside the window.

I am rather pleased that Mr Graham at the firm did not want me to travel by the crowded stagecoach, and I must admit that I am relieved that I did not have to go by train. I have only travelled by train once, and it disagreed with me profoundly. I worried all the way from London to Birmingham about boiler explosions, which I read about in the newspaper, and was not able to relax until I had both of my feet firmly back on unmoving ground again. It is not natural–and it will never be!–to travel that fast anyway, or at least that is my opinion.

I know, of course, that Mr Graham was reluctant to send me on this errand; however, I have decided to prove myself and my worth to the firm. Drawing and setting up a widower’s last will should not be that complicated, I suppose. It is not a large or difficult matter, but then again, J. B. Graham & Sons is, after all, a rather small lawyer firm. However, I am happy to work there, and should I be dismissed without any references, my dubious career in law would be forever forfeit. There are, of course, other more suitable solicitors at the firm; however, I am the only one who can speak and understand Welsh, since I grew up in Wales. To be honest, I believe that may be the only reason why Mr Graham decided to send me. I know very well that my reputation is against me due to my insensible behaviour when I was young and that Mr Graham only accepted me at J. B. Graham & Sons after speaking to my father. Nevertheless, I shall prove I am worthy and attend matters in Swansea with the uttermost discretion and professionalism.

*

Mr Wood tore the door to the inn open and entered together with a gust of wind, which nearly blew out all the candles on the round wooden tables. A dozen or so startled faces looked up at him in surprise. Behind him, the stable boy tried to calm the frightened horses, which were close to panic and neighed nervously.

She has him! Mr Wood exclaimed in Welsh and sank down on an empty worn chair. The White Lady has claimed a new victim! I tried to stop him, I really did, but he would not listen… The last sentence nearly broke into a sob, and a glass with a generous amount of gin was placed in his hand.

May the Lord have mercy on his soul, an old woman with a straw bonnet in the corner said and crossed herself.

A small baby started to cry.

There, there, a stout man with white hair said and patted the old woman’s bony shoulder. You never know. Sometimes they come back.

She looked at him, her eyes tired. But are they ever the same, Mr Howell?

He did not answer her, but patted her once again on the shoulder.

I told him the story and took all the precautions… The salt. The bible under the seat. Rosemary. But she managed to steal him anyway… Mr Wood said, almost to himself, and added, perhaps strengthened by the gin, We have to go after him!

No! We cannot! At dawn we will organize a search party, and let us pray that we find him… unharmed, Mr Howell said.

But it may be too late by then… Mr Wood said, refusing to give up.

You know we have to, Mr Howell said gently. We will search from the first light, and we will not stop until we have found him, untouched or otherwise. I promise you that.

I do not understand. What is happening? the young kitchen maid whispered to the innkeeper.

Hush, Hetty. Go back to the kitchen, he barked at her.

Let the young girl be. She is scared, as are all of us. Come here, lass. Sit down, and I will tell you the whole story from the beginning. Let us remember what should have been forgotten, the old woman in the bonnet said and continued, Basil, you give her a tot of gin, too. I think she needs it.

The innkeeper sighed, but did as he was told. He poured a glass for himself as well.

*

This is the tragic tale of the legend of the White Lady at Swansea and the terrible incident which occurred before I was born, the old woman said,