Dealing With Discipline (39 page)

So what had happened?  And why
hadn't she spoken to him about it?

He suddenly wondered if she would have
told him beforehand or just slipped away with Irene, leaving a note
or some such behind.  Somehow that seemed very Eleanor.
 Rash, impulsive even in her planned escapades, putting off
the consequences until the last possible minute.  Did the
silly chit truly not think he'd be after her the moment he
discovered her gone?

Over and over his fist clenched on top
of his knee as he was jolted along in the carriage.  When they
reached the townhouse he was out before the groom could open the
door, waving off the astonished man without even looking at him.
 The door to the house opened before he reached it and he
barreled through. 

"Lady Hyde," he snapped out Banks.
 "Where is she?"

"I believe Lady Hyde is in library, my
lord," said the man with a look of surprise on his face.
 After all, he'd never seen Lord Hyde in quite such a state
before, although that look of frustration was becoming more
well-known to the staff ever since Lady Hyde had taken up
residence.  The butler gently closed the door as Lord Hyde
stalked off down the hallway, thinking to himself that the parlor
maids would have ample opportunity for gossip after
this.

Eleanor was indeed in the library and
Edwin paused in the doorway, taken aback for a moment by the
picture of domestic bliss that she presented.  She was perched
on one of the window benches, her knees drawn up to rest her book
upon, wearing a soft blue dress that made her look both younger and
more innocent than he knew her to be.  Still, the sight of her
softened him somewhat, enough so that when she glanced up, sensing
his presence, she didn't realize immediately that something was
amiss.  

"You're home!" she said smiling as she
put her book aside and stood to greet him.  As always, her
heart beat a little faster when she saw her handsome husband.
 "How is Hugh?"

"Hugh is fine.  How was your
visit with Irene?"  His voice was soft, dangerous, and Eleanor
stopped walking towards him, taking a moment to really look at him.
 There was something slightly disheveled about his appearance,
his cravat was just a little off center, his jacket not pulled
quite right and his hair looked as if he'd run his hand through it
multiple times.  The expression on his face was that of
contained emotion, his jaw tight with it.  

Instincts said to run, but she already
knew where that got her.

"Very productive," she said carefully,
watching as his eyes flashed.  Her breath caught in her
throat.  Did he know?  Had Irene said something to him
after promising not to?  "She's a quick learner, by next
Season she shouldn't have any trouble sorting through which events
she and Hugh should attend."

"I see," Edwin said softly.  The
menace in his tone made her spine stiffen, especially as he strode
forward, circling around her like a predator examining a
particularly tasty treat.  Ignoring his prowling as best she
could, Eleanor did not deign to turn with him as he circled behind
her.  

"Is there something wrong?" she asked
lightly, still unsure whether or not he actually knew anything.
 If he didn't then she surely wasn't going to give him any
hints.  For all she knew this was just another side to Edwin
being amorous, although her bottom was already tingling
instinctively, as if trying to warn her. 

"I don't know," Edwin said coming up
on her other side, he'd circled much closer.  Close enough
that she had to tip her head back to look up at him.  "Is
something wrong Eleanor?"

"N-no..." Inwardly she cursed herself
for stammering. 

"Are you feeling quite
well?"

"Yes."

He paused, studying her.
 "Missing your parents?"

Eleanor sucked in a
breath.
 He knew.
  The guilt flashed across her face and his eyes flared,
seeing that confirmation.  She took an involuntary step back
and he followed.  

"I hear we're taking a trip to
Bath."

Immediately Eleanor's chin lifted.
 While she might have been surprised and momentarily cowed, it
was not her natural state.  So her plan had been discovered
before she was ready for it, it didn't change what she wanted.
 Besides, perhaps he would give some hint as to his feelings
for her in his reaction.  After all, her father was always
shipping her mother off to Bath or the estates whenever he could.
 If Edwin was amiable to her trip and only angry that she
hadn't spoken with him about it first then that could be rather
indicative, couldn't it?

"I was planning a trip to Bath to see
my parents and asked Irene if she would care to accompany me, if
that's what you're referring to."

Edwin shifted closer,
staring her down.  Their bodies were only inches, her breasts
a deep breath away from brushing his chest, but Eleanor refused to
back down.  Her roiling emotions were threaded through with
sensual excitement.  Why was it that angering Edwin was so
desperately thrilling to her?  Or was it just that she liked
knowing she affected him? 

Recklessly she tilted her
chin up even more haughtily.  "I don't recall inviting
you
 however."

"Why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why am I not invited?"

There was something incredibly
invigorating about arguing with Edwin this way, their tones similar
to the spats they had when they were younger but with the stakes
and emotions so much higher.  With him standing so close to
her, his dark eyes flashing dangerously, her chest was feeling
tighter and tighter.  She desperately wanted to back away but
she refused to back down.  It felt akin to poking a tiger with
a stick and wondering how long the beast was going to allow such a
thing. 

Eleanor licked her lips and saw her
husband's eyes drop down to watch her tongue.  The room felt
heavy with tension that had to break at some point and she had no
idea which direction it was going to crack in. 

"Perhaps I wish some time away from
you."

Something like hurt flickered across
Edwin's face and Eleanor felt wretched.  She did wish time
away from Edwin, to think and to talk to her mother, to see what he
would do with that time, to give him enough space to test his
interest in her... but she didn't wish to hurt
him. 

"Why?" he asked softly, raising his
hand to brush the backs of his fingers over cheek.  A shiver
went through her at his touch.  "I thought we were getting
along well enough."

Well
enough
, she thought, a little
despairingly.  That summed up their relationship.  She
had fallen in love with him and had no idea if he was in love with
her or if he was just indulging her the way he thought he was
supposed to.  Many
ton
 marriages could be
described as the couple getting on 'well enough' while the husband
had his mistresses and the wife had her lovers.  Eleanor
couldn't imagine letting another man touch her the way Edwin did
and the idea of him touching another woman in that way made her
sick.  She knew that he'd had lovers before her of course, but
that didn't bother her as much because he hadn't been
hers
 then.
 Just the thought of him taking a lover now made the inside of
her chest ache as if her heart might shatter into
pieces. 

The need to know what direction their
marriage would go in was overwhelming to her.  She knew that
her need to separate herself from him wasn't entirely rational,
that like the other tests this one might not give her the
definitive answer that she needed... but it didn't seem to matter
what she said to prompt him, he never responded verbally with any
assurances of love.  Just of affection, caring... the kind of
emotions one might have for a friend or a woman that he'd known all
his life.  

Hearing Grace talk about Irene's
long-time infatuation with Lord Brooke had made Eleanor wonder if
Edwin felt the same way but had married her anyway to make their
families happy.  She knew very well that her father had
arranged the match.  Would Edwin have denied her father
anything? 

It was in her nature to test limits
and boundaries, but she'd never tested anything so important as her
husband's feelings for her.  

For her, well enough was just not good
enough.

"I don't have to explain myself to
you," she said, although the truth was that she couldn't think of
an explanation that sounded at all reasonable and that didn't give
away her own feelings towards him.  Edwin already had enough
weapons to use against her, she didn't need to hand him another.
 

Studying the closed expression on his
wife's face, the hint of resignation and sadness in her clear blue
eyes, Edwin felt a rising panic.  He realized that in many
ways he'd taken Eleanor quite for granted since their marriage,
despite knowing that it hadn't been her choice.  While she had
run hot and cold in her behavior with him, he'd never worried that
the coldness might actually become so dire that she might leave
him, especially since he could always count on her hot passion in
the bedroom no matter how she behaved during the day.  It had
frustrated him, but never worried him. 

Now he was beginning to
worry.

He'd thought that he could
read Eleanor, that he knew her well enough from their long
acquaintance not to be truly shocked by anything that she did, but
hearing Irene say that they were going on a trip to get space from
their husbands had knocked his notions completely sideways. He
didn’t want her to go away without him, he hadn’t considered it and
the idea of being separated from her filled him with a longing that
he knew he’d never admit.  What could be her possible
motivation?  If she had wanted to run to her parents without
him after the first time he'd disciplined her then he could have
understood that, but she hadn't.

So why now?  Why this
silent yearning in her eyes, this lingering sadness and unhappy
tilt to her beautiful lips? 

It was making Edwin feel
quite frantic and the immediate thought of one of the usual
symptoms of unhappy
ton
 marriages popped into his head.  After all, this
marriage had not been Eleanor's choice, even if he thought that she
had accepted it and come to enjoy it even.

"Is it another man?" he asked harshly,
his insides feeling strangely tight and heavy. 

Eleanor's eyes widened and she stepped
back; he immediately reached out and gripped her arms, fighting to
urge to haul her against him.  The most incredible rush of
possessive jealousy roared inside him, shocking him to his core.
 He'd never felt such a way in his entire life and despite the
shock on her face, her silence was killing him.

"Is it?"

The rage on Edwin's face fascinated
Eleanor; she could feel his hands tightening on her arms, his body
shaking with thinly leashed emotion.  When she'd set out to
bait the tiger she'd never imagined such a reaction.  Part of
her leaped in joy, another part worried that his rage was only
because he didn't want someone touching what was his - especially
before he'd gotten an heir - not because it had anything to do with
her. 

"Eleanor."  The way he growled
her name, so dangerously threatening, had her shaking her
head. 

"No..."

"Good.  There won't
be, Nell, not for you. Not ever."  The wild look in his eyes
almost had her backing away against except that he hauled her close
and kissed her.  His lips were like a brand on her mouth, his
tongue pushing in to taste and ravage her; she felt breathless from
the tight band of his arms around her body, whimpering as she felt
her ribs actually creak from the pressure. 

This was not the reaction she'd
expected. 

But she loved it.  His possessiveness
thrilled her.  When the kiss ended and he picked her up over
his shoulder she didn't even do anything more than squeal his name,
her hands clutching at his jacket as he carried her off to their
bedroom, one hand wrapped around her legs, the other resting on her
upturned bottom. 

******

He wasn't sure he believed
her.  While Eleanor was usually a very truthful person, she'd
taken so long to answer that he wasn't entirely sure that she was
only telling him what he wanted to hear.  The revelation that
he didn't know what was going on inside her beautiful head tore at
him.  The thought that their marriage might turn into the
usual 
ton
 arrangement made him want to lock her away and never
let her out of his sight.  He was having trouble convincing
himself that such a tactic would not be
feasible. 

When he reached the bedroom that they shared
every night he didn't set her down until he reached the bed,
stripping her with ruthless efficiency as he kissed her breathless,
not giving her a chance to protest.  Although she didn't seem
inclined to do so anyway, which was barely enough to soothe his
rampaging emotions.

Lately he'd taken to carrying spare cravats in
his pockets, one that was kept soft and unstarched, so that he
could bind his wife's wrists at a whim.  As soon as he had her
undressed he pulled the length of fabric from his pocket and
wrapped it around her wrists.