Punishing His Ward (23 page)

A flash of desire shot
through her, despite the fact that she was sated.  His lips
were firm, coaxing, and she parted her own, inviting him in.
 Even if this was madness, she wanted it.  And he kissed
like a dream. There was no comparison to the other men she’d kissed
in the past; this kiss made her feel so much more wanton, so much
more wild and excited.  The wet silk of his tongue danced with
hers, exploring each other and he tasted like whiskey and spice.
 He kissed her until she felt breathless, her breasts becoming
heavy and swollen, and her quim beginning to ache again.  She
barely even noticed how sore her bottom was as she lay on her back
- it didn't matter if only he would keep kissing
her. 

When he pulled away, she
was left gasping, her hands clutching at his jacket.  Gently,
he pried her fingers off as she stared up at him, trying to
decipher what was happening.  That kiss had already ruined her
for any other man, why was he pulling away now?  Why was he
standing rather than joining her on the bed?

"Wait!" she cried out, pushing herself
up to her elbows.  "Where are you... why aren't
you..."

The Earl chuckled, putting
two fingers under her chin and tilting her head back.  Leaning
over her, his lips barely brushed against hers. It was less of a
kiss and more of a promise.  "You'll have to wait until after
we're married to be completely ruined, baggage."

His lips pressed down
again, this time kissing her more fully, although without his
tongue, and then he was walking towards her door, leaving her
feeling bereft and utterly confused.

"
Wait
!"  Her strangled cry
caught him in the doorway, and he turned to look at her.
 Darkly handsome, a devilish twinkle in his eye, and every
inch the elegant gentleman.  Except that she'd already
discovered, the guise of a gentleman only covered the true dominant
male underneath.  "Married?"

A little amused smile
crossed his lips.  "Of course.  And don't you dare think
about going anywhere
near
 another man or I'll take a
strap to your arse and I won't care about how red it already
is."

The crudeness of his threat left her
staring as he exited and shut the door behind him.
 

Married!  To...
to
him!

A thrilled flutter went through her
stomach even as confusion buffeted her about.  Why on earth
did he want to marry her?  He hadn't said.  Cynthia
flopped back down on the bed and immediately turned on her side,
hissing, as her bottom protested.  Now that she'd been shocked
out of her pleasant haze, her poor rear end was burning more than
ever.  

Think about another man?  How
could she?

Still, he didn't know that
he'd been consuming her thoughts.  And if he didn't know, then
she wasn't going to tell him.  With a man like that, she
needed every advantage she could get.  Although she certainly
wasn’t going to test him by kissing other men. Not because she
feared a spanking, but because she didn’t want him to change his
mind.

She would absolutely marry
him.  Even if he wasn't as easily distracted or influenced as
other men she'd met.  Even if he spanked her.  Actually,
she wasn't sure if spanking was a detraction or a benefit of
marrying him.  Right now it certainly felt like a detraction,
but she was quite sure she'd be disappointed if he never spanked
her again.  A little smile played across her face.  While
he might not be easily influenced, she was quite sure that she
could spur him into punishing her whenever she felt like.  If
nothing else, his last words to her had indicated a rather
surprising possessiveness on his part.  

Marrying the Earl was the
only way to assuage her curiosity and the tingling excitement he
created inside of her. The only way she could keep her heart from
breaking as she watched him with other debutantes. None of them
would have him, he would be hers. And, as he wanted her attention
solely on him, she could demand the same in return. Cynthia had no
qualms about that.

She just hoped his mother wouldn't be
too upset.

Knowing his mother’s penchant for
taking her breakfast in her room, Wesley asked the staff to notify
him when his mother sent for her breakfast.  That way he could
go and speak with her before Manfred or any of the other servants
would have a chance to.  

When he entered the room,
his mother was sitting up in her bed, taking a light repast on
a tray. The bed curtains had been drawn fully back, as had the
drapes, and light was streaming in through both windows.
 Wesley was suddenly forcibly reminded of many days when he
was a child and had come up to see his mother during breakfast,
just like this.  When the old Earl was alive, the Countess
never joined them for anything other than the evening meal,
although her door was always open to her sons. He’d spent many a
morning sitting on her bed and talking to her, even more so than
either of his brothers.  Smiling a welcome at him, she
buttered her toast and waved him to come closer. 

"Good morning, Wesley, to
what do I owe the honor of a visit?" she asked, her voice light and
a bit teasing.  After all, it had been years since he'd paid
such a visit to her over breakfast. This might have been one of the
things he’d missed most about England when he’d been
overseas.

Wesley cleared his throat,
suddenly uncertain as how to broach the subject of his marriage
with his mother.  It had all seemed remarkably easy before
he'd stepped into the room and actually faced her; just announce
that he and Cynthia were getting married, and that was that.
 Now, looking down at his mother, he found himself feeling
rather young and awkward; neither of which he was accustomed to
feeling.  Would she approve? He certainly wanted her to, he
realized.

To buy himself some time,
he pulled a chair closer to her bed so that he could sit facing
her.  She watched him, one eyebrow arching as if in amusement
over his hesitance. The dressing gown she was wearing over her
night rail made her look softer, more approachable, and yet he was
still having difficulties finding the correct words. After all, it
wasn’t something he had much experience in.

Clearing his throat again, Wesley
reminded himself that he wasn't in trouble.  "I ah... as much
as I appreciate your um... enthusiasm for procuring a marriage for
me next Season, I've actually decided that I might want to marry
ah... sometime before that."

There, that was a good
introduction.

"Oh!  Did you have
someone already in mind, dear?"  The Countess put down her
toast on her plate, her forehead crinkling a bit in concern.
Cocking her head at him, she studied his face.  "I apologize,
darling, I didn't even think to ask if you already had a
tendre
for someone, I
just assumed..." Her voice trickled off as she waited for his
answer, since obviously he’d told her just a few days ago that he
had no interest in marrying, much less anytime soon.

"No!  I mean, that
is, I didn't..."  Oh bloody hell, might as well just get it
over with. Wesley braced himself.  "I've decided to marry
Cynthia."

"Wesley!" the Countess screeched.
 He ducked the piece of toast that was flung in his direction,
wincing at the shrill tone of her voice.  "You compromised her
last night, didn't you?!"

"No!"

"You didn't?"  

Wesley eyed his mother
suspiciously, and not just because she was now holding a second
piece of toast.  Did she sound just a little bit disappointed?
Surely not.

"No... well, not really.
 Not completely, but it could have had the appearance of...
anyway, what I mean to say is I've grown rather fond of the chit
and I know she's been a handful to you, but I'll make sure she
behaves herself from now on and..."  His voice trailed off as
he realized his mother was beaming at him. Did his mother really
not care
who
he
married as long as he married someone? Or was there more going on
here than he realized?

Wesley had the sudden suspicion that
he’d been set up.

“This is wonderful! Marie!-“ she called
out for her maid. “Marie come here at once! I need to get
dressed!”

“Mother…”

“Oh do be quiet Wesley and get out,
there’s a great deal to be done and I need to be dressed to do
it!”

******

When Edwin and Eleanor arrived, after
receiving Wesley’s note, it was to a house that was clearly in
turmoil. Eleanor could hear the strident tones of the Countess
echoing down the hall, obviously setting her troops in order.
Looking rather harassed, Manfred showed them to the library where
Wesley was obviously hiding out; he looked like a man under siege.
Rather than sitting down, he was pacing around the room with a
large glass in hand – looking at the crystal tumbler, Eleanor
blinked. She recognized whiskey when she saw it. Then again, going
by the way the Countess sounded, he probably needed some serious
fortifying.

“Wesley! Congratulations!” Edwin gave
his friend a hug, and then Eleanor caught him up, laughing as
Wesley squeezed her tight with one arm. The other was busy holding
onto his drink. She hugged him back, adding her own congratulations
to Edwin’s.

“Thank you… welcome to the madness. I
told my mother this morning and I don’t know what she’s doing
exactly, but apparently there’s quite a bit that needed to be done
today, immediately, if I’m going to be married in two weeks.” He
looked rather exasperated and Eleanor had to snicker. Men. They
just didn’t understand the time it took to plan any event, much
less a major one like a title Earl’s wedding. She sighed a little.
If she’d had the wedding of her dreams it would have taken far
longer than two weeks to plan…

“What needs to be done today?” Edwin
asked, looking equally baffled. Eleanor restrained herself from
rolling her eyes.

“I have no idea, but my mother’s been
on a tear ever since I broke the news.”

“I’m going to go see what I can do to
help,” Eleanor said, smiling. As much as she wanted to question
Wesley, she was even more curious about what Cynthia thought of all
of this. Despite Wesley’s attempt at being exasperated, he looked
remarkably cheerful under his harried exterior, so she knew that he
was happy about the turn of events even if his mother was driving
him a bit batty. Besides which, she was spending as little time
around Edwin as possible at the moment.

“They’re in the drawing room. I think,”
Wesley called after her.

Eleanor shut the study door behind her
and let out a sigh of relief. Being around Edwin was particularly
hard right now because she was exhausted and doing her best to
cover it. It had taken her longer than she liked to realize that
she was pregnant, although her fatigue had certainly been worrying;
it wasn’t until she’d begun feeling nauseous in the mornings and
had counted back the days that she realized the cause for her
symptoms. She was worried that if she spent too much time around
Edwin, he would realize that her little illness hadn’t been any
such thing and what the real issue was.

She didn’t know how she
felt about her pregnancy. Protective, certainly. She cherished the
idea of the life in her belly and a part of her thrilled to the
very specific idea of bearing Edwin’s child. But she was also
terrified. Edwin had been so attentive, so affectionate since
arriving in Bath… but it’s not like there was much here to distract
him. The slow top still hadn’t declared himself, so she was still
feeling uncertain about his feelings towards her. And she was still
a bit worried that once he knew she was with child, she would
discover that his love was more of that towards a friend that he
had married. Not the kind of passionate, delightful and despairing
love that she felt for him. A pregnant wife wasn’t much fun, and
she knew that, in many
ton
marriages, the wife’s pregnancy usually heralded
the infidelities on both sides of the relationship.

After all, he'd gone to
the Assembly last night without her.  When she'd plead
fatigue, he'd insisted she stay home, but then he'd gone anyway.
 Ostensibly in case Wesley needed assistance watching over
Cynthia, but Eleanor couldn't help but worry about the other ladies
that were there.  Granted, she hadn't seen any at the previous
Assembly they'd attended that she'd feel threatened by, but as the
Season ended there would be more of the
ton
 coming to Bath.  What
if just being tired, unable to attend the public events, gave
another woman the opportunity to seduce Edwin?  Part of her
said she was just being silly, but another part of her was too
terrified to take the risk yet.

So she was keeping the news to herself,
which wasn’t unheard of. After all, she could be mistaken. And, in
the meantime, she was cherishing every moment she had with him,
searching for some kind of verification that he loved her the way
she loved him. He seemed to, sometimes. But there was no proof, no
certainty. The blasted man never said the damned words. Sometimes
they almost slipped from her lips, but what if he didn’t say them
back? She’d be devastated.

Eventually she would run out of time,
but right now she just wanted to keep pushing it back and
back…