The Tutor & the Tyrant

By Sally Matthews

Although Miss Muffett had only done what was right, she still found herself banished from her teaching position at Madame's Select School for Young Ladies. Fortunately, thanks to the efforts of the head mistress, it was only until the furor died down. When things were eventually forgotten, then she could quietly return. However, until that time, her only recourse was to be buried in the countryside for a year with a family who would like her to further the education of their invalid daughter. Little does she know, the quiet countryside will be anything but quiet, and there will be plenty to keep her busy in her new position, particularly from Nicholas Carter, her student's older brother. What he lacks in manners, he more than makes up for with the most delightful kisses she has ever experienced. Yet with her position in the household as neither servant nor peer, kisses are not exactly a binding declaration. She must draw the line, but finds that difficult to do. While she is sorting out her feelings, becoming a victim of dalliance is hardly the only danger she faces while waiting for her sentence of solitude to end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sally Matthews
• Release date: Mar 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311486974

Book preview

The Tutor

&

The Tyrant

by Sally Matthews

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either the sole product of the author’s imagination, or if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Except as permitted by law, no part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.

Text copyright © 2010 Sally Matthews

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other Regency Novels by Sally Matthews

The Masterpiece

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

"I’m sorry, chérie. I know you only did what was right, but the Duke of Beresford is a powerful and influential man. If he removes his daughter, the others will follow like sheep. When they have all decamped, I will have no students. With no students, I shall have no choice but to close the school and will then have to dismiss you anyway."

Madame Sinclair tried to impress upon the young woman seated before her the logic behind her decision. She still wholeheartedly approved of Miss Muffett’s actions, that the Duke’s daughter rightfully deserved her punishment, but unfortunately she could not openly defy such a man. It had taken her ten years to build up the school to be one of the finest in all of England. The Duke could utterly ruin her within a month if he so wished. She must tread carefully. Still, she had weathered worse storms than this. If her plans went accordingly, she would be able to keep both her school and her best teacher, with the detestable Duke and his mirror image of a daughter none the wiser.

Miss Muffett stared at her cup of tea, contemplating the injustice of her world that was not only holding her accountable, but was demanding restitution simply for having done what was right. Even now, the sheer insolence and cruelty of the girl’s actions chaffed her, and if she had to do it all over again, she would willingly slap the girl’s face once more. Had she stopped there, nothing would have come of the incident. But when she made the girl clean up the sordid mess with the maid standing over her—well, that was what had done her in. The Duke could have cared less were the girl punished by her peers, but to let a maid smirk over her betters was insufferable. He loudly and violently demanded the immediate dismissal of the person responsible for so humiliating his daughter. The dent in the table where in his anger he had struck out with his cane was still to be seen. Fortunately, Madame had been able to deflect the bulk of the Duke’s ire, but in the end, Miss Muffett knew a price would have to be paid. She had been on pins and needles all day, for Madame had not as yet actually dismissed her, and until she formally said the words, there was always hope. But now—she mentally prepared herself for the worst.

"But, my chérie, you know how men are. His daughter won’t be here for much longer, and when she leaves, I can safely bring you back. Everyone will have forgotten by then. You know you are my very best teacher. I won’t lose you willingly. In fact, I don’t know how I’m going to properly replace you even for the year."

Miss Muffett was immensely relieved by Madame Sinclair’s words of bringing her back. Things weren’t entirely black. But what did she mean by her last reference of ‘for the year’?

Madame then smiled at her and winked. "Yes, my chérie, I have made plans for you."

She then got up and went to her desk, pulled out the center drawer and removed a letter.

"This came only last week. The request was so unusual, I hadn’t been able to form a reply as yet. In retrospect, it now seems to me the divine hand of le Bon Dieu." She seated herself again in the stuffed chair by the fire and looked at Miss Muffett.

With those startling words as an introduction, Miss Muffett could only wonder at the contents of the letter, and how it could possibly resolve her problem.

This request is from a friend of a friend. You know how things pass from one person to another. But Lady Carrington has written an introduction, so I am quite sure that it is all that is respectable and proper. It is from a family in Berkshire, who are looking for someone to teach their invalid daughter.

At these words, she saw a slight frown appear on the face of the young woman seated opposite her, so she hurried on to clarify things. No, they do not want a governess. She was glad to see the young lady’s face clear at that.

Madame almost laughed out loud that she should even think that a governess position would be offered to one such as she. The life of a governess was clearly not applicable to this young woman. Not only was she far too well educated for a position that involved only young children, teaching them nothing more than their letters and simple subjects of general education, she was also far too outspoken and opinionated to last even a day in a profession that required absolute obeisance and obscurity. She really was the complete antithesis of a governess. After ten minutes in her company most would declare her nothing short of a bluestocking, but that she was also young and attractive in her own way, would alone have blackened her card as a prospective governess from the moment the mistress of the house laid eyes upon her.

"No, chérie, she continued, their daughter is already seventeen. But, as an invalid, she has few prospects to enliven or fulfill her life. They hope that by furthering her education, it will fill that void. And it says she is most interested in learning French, your expertise. You would be more like a—tutor, I suppose. Although I believe the term applies to only males, n’est ce pas? A tutor ess? Is that a word?"

Yes, it is a word, although rather an obscure one, since the position is rarely, if ever, offered to females, Miss Muffett replied, chafing at yet another of the considerable injustices perpetrated upon females. I’m sure people will beg my pardon if I call myself so. Yes, I’m a tutoress, she remarked as if introducing herself to some genteel couple. A what, you say? Come from some foreign country, are you?

Madame Sinclair laughed at the imaginary scene. The word really did sound quite odd. Well, she giggled, perhaps you would do better to avoid the word altogether. But regardless of your title, it would seem the timing of the position and its duration will suit all of us to perfection. If you are in agreement, I will write to them today.

Miss Muffett looked up at her then. Yes, the position was nothing short of miraculous, taking into consideration her present predicament. She really didn’t have much choice but to agree, for she was scarcely qualified to do anything else but teach. And teaching positions did not grow on trees. If she wished to regain her place here at Madame’s most progressive and prestigious school, then she must swallow her pride and gratefully accept what was offered to her.

Thank you, Madame. Your concern for my future is more than I deserve.

"Nonsense, chérie! You realize I am not doing this solely for you. I do not want to lose you. None have ever taught these silly girls more French and with such a superb accent as you! Nor instilled in them an understanding of politics, the challenge of solving complex mathematics, or the liberation that comes from a higher education."

Miss Muffett flushed slightly from the effuse compliment, for she had only done that with a few of the girls whose minds had shown that quickness and desire for learning. Most of her young charges heartily disliked her for her determined prodding to make them learn more French than just, ‘Je suis enchantée,’ or to broaden their minds beyond painting watercolors of flowers in the meadows and setting a nice stitch in their petit point.

But, Madame continued on, until we receive their reply, I’m afraid I must very publicly dismiss you, have your bags packed into the carriage and sent on your way. The Duke and his daughter will expect no less. However, she added, lest the young woman should become uncertain again, it will only be for a quiet ride through the countryside, and then John will bring you back to my apartments while the girls are at dinner. As long as you remain inside, no one will know that you are here. If you have no objections? Madame waited speculatively for the young lady’s reply.

No, of course not, was her answer. I am overwhelmed that you have thought of everything. It’s more than I could ever have hoped for. Miss Muffett was highly relieved that she would not have to trouble herself with securing respectable lodging, particularly the expense. She had replaced quite a bit of her wardrobe this quarter, and she wasn’t that plump in the pocket just at the moment.

"On the contrary, my chérie, I will have a wonderful time pretending to dismiss you in a royal huff, all the while hoodwinking that detestable Duke and his daughter. Perhaps you could dab at your eyes while leaving, and I shall point to the door while holding my nose in the air. It could be quite amusing, don’t you think?"

It turned out to be just the case, the two having so much fun, they almost overplayed their parts, particularly when Miss Muffett fell to her knees begging for mercy, and Madame almost laughed out loud, causing Miss Muffett to have to cover her giggles in her handkerchief. After having been duly banished, the ensuing drive through the countryside was most pleasant, for the flowers were in bloom and the spring air refreshing. As the sun began to set, they returned by the back lane, where the trees gave cover to their approach, and the clandestine operation to get her settled into Madame’s apartments without being seen went off without a hitch.

The next few days were not without some drama, for Miss Muffett, now that she was accustomed to the idea of spending the year with a single student, was several times accosted by the notion that the family had already hired another, or that they might have simply changed their minds and no longer needed her. By the end of the week, it was with considerable relief she received the news from Madame that the family was delighted she was available and that arrangements would be made to see her escorted to the family home.

"Well, chérie, this is turning out better and better, don’t you think? Their son has already written to me that he will have the carriage here the day after tomorrow."

The two were just sitting down to the evening meal in Madame’s apartments. Aside from the confinement, Miss Muffett was quickly growing used to the creature comforts afforded in Madame’s well-appointed rooms. In fact, she had to take herself to task only that morning not to get used to it, for she would certainly not be so pampered in her new position.

Yes, it has turned out rather well, considering, Miss Muffett replied. And, I am quite anxious now to go. Although it has been delightful here, I have already been an imposition on your generosity for far too long.

Oh, I have been happy to have you. I only hope that when you get there, the young girl is not one of those prone to temper tantrums, flinging porcelain figurines about simply because no one dares to oppose her. Still, you have had considerable experience with that kind of temper, so I’m sure you will bring her about even if such is the case.

Miss Muffett was not so sure. She had never dealt with an invalid. The tactic of being strict and stern worked well enough with silly, spoiled young ladies, but it might not work so well on one with a valid reason for being angry with the world. Regardless, she would simply have to do her best, and for at least a year.

On the appointed day, a little after the noon hour, Miss Muffett’s trunk was secretly taken down to the side yard and safely installed on the carriage now standing in readiness, waiting only for her appearance. She said her good-byes to Madame in the apartment, so as not to draw attention should they have done so before the waiting carriage. She then fastened the strings of her cloak and tied the ribbons of her bonnet. Picking up her gloves and a small beaded bag, she quietly left. She worked on her gloves as she went down the walk, then paused to look back, a quiet sigh escaping her lips at having to leave the place she had considered her home for several years now. She was still committing the picturesque facade of the school to memory when she was jolted from her reverie by the words,

Are you coming or not?

She turned quickly, and not without a measure of pique at the clipped tones that had addressed her, disrupting her fond memories.

The horses are fresh and getting quite restless just standing here, he added, hoping to speed her along. And there is still a good three hours of driving ahead of us, so the sooner we start our journey the better.

Having been caught up with her thoughts of leaving as she walked the path, she had not even looked in the direction of the drive. She was now more than a little surprised to see before her a gentleman’s mail phaeton, drawn by a pair of blooded horses with that distinctive look of racing stock, their bits covered in foam, tossing their heads and stamping their hooves in eagerness to go, and a man much her own age holding the ribbons firmly to prevent them from doing just that. She was even more surprised to see he was alone, with no groom in sight. She had walked up to the passenger’s side of the carriage at his prodding, but now hesitated, biting her lip in concern, for things were mightily suspicious. At first she thought perhaps there was some mistake, but she could see her own trunk secured in the back, so this was obviously her conveyance, peculiar as it was. Still, who in their right mind would send this gentleman’s sporting vehicle to convey her, rather than a closed coach? And even so, what man drove a pair without a groom in attendance?

Her concern was momentarily sidetracked by the thought that if he actually drove as dashingly as his set up looked, she was going to be wind blown to bits and look a fright by the time they reached their destination. She then looked to his face, hoping his visage might allay her concerns, but the man was concentrating on the horses, and she could only see his profile. It was not without some handsomeness, the lips shapely and the contours of his brow and nose very masculine, but the hardness of his jaw was daunting, and the memory of his clipped manner still rankled her. His dress was obviously that of a gentleman, but his demeanor certainly uncalled for. It was then that she was plagued by the thought that if she stepped into this carriage, she was willingly placing herself into this unknown man’s power where, once past the confines of the gates, he might do with her as he willed. And who would ever know what had happened to her?

If you are fantasizing that I’m going to ravish you and leave your body in the woods, I would hardly introduce myself to your Madame Sinclair, and then drive such a bang up pair that they could easily be recognized for several counties.

Her mixed feelings concerning the man were completely displaced by shock at his blunt words, and not merely from the impropriety of them. She knew she had an expressive face, but for him to be able to pinpoint her thoughts so exactly was rather disconcerting—although he certainly had a good point there, which relieved most of her concerns. But still, if he thought he could treat her with such surliness, simply because she was hired help or worse, a mere woman, he was in for a good surprise. She was not about to let him abuse her so without a fight.

"My hesitation—if you must know—was merely in trying to ascertain how to attain my seat—unaided, she stressed the word to indicate her thoughts on his deplorable manners. So I believe the only one to be fantasizing would be you. Her tone was every bit as clipped as his. But since you are obviously so impatient to go, I shall just scramble up as best I can."

With that, she hitched up her skirts, unknowingly showing quite a bit of shapely ankle as she placed her foot upon the carriage step, grabbed the seat brace and hoisted herself onto the cushions. Sitting up as straight and as primly as she could in rebuke, she then added, just to irk him,

I’m quite ready now. You may drive on.

He made no comment, but simply gave the horses leave to go. By his demeanor, it seemed her shots had gone astray, but then she saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, giving her some measure of satisfaction.

The horses were as fast as they looked, moving out at a flying trot, which he did not even bother to check as they passed straight as an arrow through the narrow gates of the school with only inches to spare on either side. Well, at least he knows how to drive these beasts, she thought, relieved on that account at least.

After an hour of mutually agreed silence, wherein she had spent much of that time conquering her apprehensions over the speed at which they traveled down the road, as well as restoring her composure after being treated with such disdain, she eventually came to the point where she had all she could endure of the passing scenery, and decided to beard the lion in his den. Even his terse replies would at least alleviate the boredom.

It is unusual to drive a pair without a groom, especially ones as—lively as these, she commented conversationally.

She didn’t know how to exactly phrase the next part, about why he would dispense with a groom, without sounding nosey, but he was quick to ascertain her motive.

If you must know— he said, echoing her earlier words exactly, I customarily do. However, there are some very nice horses hereabouts rumored for sale, but since the source is not all that reliable, and it would have been an hour out of my way to go see them, there was no point in wasting my time on a possible goose chase. I sent Gibbons, my groom, to check them out for me. If he finds that they are worth seeing, I will gladly make the drive back. If not, I will have saved myself considerable trouble. He will, no doubt, catch up to us somewhere along the way.

Well, that was a relief to hear, even delivered with such brusqueness, for in spite of his making light over her concerns of ravishment, she was still a bit leery of him. So, where exactly is Ashford? she asked of her soon to be new home, just to keep the conversation moving along as well as to glean as much information about things as she could.

Still two hours away, was all he replied, staring upward with a look of concern upon his face.

The sunny skies that had warmed them during their departure had darkened considerably over the last hour. The wind had picked up as well, and together with the dark clouds that were moving quickly in their direction, it did not bode well for the rest of their journey. He then brought the horses to a halt and said to her,

I think I’d best put up the hood. If I give you the reins, do you think you could possibly hold them still?

She bristled at his demeaning tone. Really, the man was most insufferable. I shall do my humble best, she replied. Since her private life was none of his concern, she did not bother telling him that she had driven her own pair for many years and could easily hold even these two hot-bloods to a standstill.

He hesitated, but then nodded assent. Apparently, he thought getting wet outweighed the risk of leaving the horses in her hands. He ordered the horses to ‘stand,’ passed her the reins and jumped down to undo the hood. It crossed her mind to let the horses dash off for a ways, just to make him have to chase after them—that would be quite amusing—but she thought better of it. They were a beautiful pair, but her mischief could easily backfire on her if she misjudged their strength even by a little. Before she knew it, he was back in his seat and took the reins from her hands. Adjusting his whip, they were off again. The road, that heretofore had been a slight but steady climb, now flattened out, the way ahead clearly visible for quite a stretch.

I’m going to spring them here, he told her without preamble. It will save us a bit of time. You won’t shriek, will you?

She pinched her lips tightly at his condescension, and said as coldly as she could, I never shriek.

Good, was all he replied before slipping the reins to give the horses their heads.

Expecting the ‘spring them’ to be a stately canter, she was taken off guard by the sudden jolt as the horses sprang forward, knocking her back into the seat cushion as they attained a full out gallop in seconds. Were it not for his complacent look, and the relaxed manner of his reins, she would have thought they were surely bolting for the wind was soon whipping her face, sending the ribbons of her bonnet streaming flat out behind her. For all his nonchalance, she could not keep herself from clutching the arm of the seat, for although the road was smooth, the carriage began to rock about and soon began to pitch and sway like a ship in a storm. When her bonnet began to lift from her brow, he shouted at her,

You might want to hold on to your hat! Then he cracked his whip above the horses’ backs to make them go faster.

At that point, she was being rattled so violently, she thought she might chip a tooth from their clattering, and if he didn’t kill them both outright in a crash, she was surely going to die from the motion. She wondered if it wouldn’t be safer and saner to jump before he overturned the carriage and smashed them all to bits. She didn’t see how she could take much more of this. The man must be mad! While hanging on for dear life, she glanced