Punishing His Ward (25 page)

Nodding, Edwin could only
feel grateful that his own parents had no taste for such events.
 They'd been overjoyed that he'd married Eleanor, eager for
him to bring her to the Manse, but not at all put out that they'd
missed the actual wedding.  Although, he'd have to put off
traveling there now for a bit longer, until after Wesley's wedding
at least. His parents would understand.  Still, he was looking
forward to eventually being home, and his mother would be a solid
support for Eleanor while she was breeding.  He had no doubt
that Lady Harrington, and her possibly her husband, would join them
there as well until it was Eleanor's time, which would also delight
his parents.  They did enjoy friends visiting, even if they
preferred not to leave the estates themselves.

"I've written Hugh and
Alex," Wesley continued.  "And told my mother to include them
on the guest list, but I wanted to ensure they'd be able to come.
Figured I should inform them as soon as possible.  Did Hugh
tell you that Alex is determined to reconcile with Lady
Brooke?"

"Yes... I'll be interested to see how
that plays out.  Do you think he might bring her to the
wedding?"

"Could be the perfect
opportunity.  Sentimental event and all that; women love that
kind of thing.  Besides which, I doubt he'll want to conduct
his reconciliation under the eyes of the
ton
 in London.  Removing
her to Bath under the excuse of a wedding and then going further
afield would be a viable strategy."

"If he can get her out of
London with him at all,” Edwin mused, thinking about Lady Brooke’s
stubbornness. It rivaled his wife’s. “Well, Eleanor would be glad
to see Grace again, although I can't imagine what she would think
about the circumstances."

Not to mention the other
couple that would also certainly be attending the wedding. Thinking
back to the last time Grace and Irene had been in the same room,
Edwin couldn't help but wince a little.  Although if Lord
Brooke was going to reestablish his marriage, the women were just
going to have to learn to get along.

He hoped.

When the letter arrived, it was
immediately taken to the study and read as soon as the master of
the house was told the address from whence it came.  And then
Hugh laughed so hard he cried, leaning back against his chair and
actually holding his belly.  Hearing his laughter, his curious
wife came in, having just returned from a visit with her
mother.  She didn’t make them as often as her mother liked,
and whenever she returned home she searched out Hugh from some much
needed bolstering.  

"Hugh?  What is
it?" 

Still chuckling, Hugh waved the letter
in his hand.  "Wesley's getting married."

"Really?"  

Hugh laughed again at Irene's obvious
surprise as she approached his desk.  He waved her closer and
she smiled as she walked around the side.  Today she looked
particularly fetching in a morning gown of dark forest green that
emphasized her green eyes and make her hair look even more coppery
than usual.  In the sunlight, her pale skin was almost
luminescent. The soft folds of the gown clung to her slender figure
and rounded breasts.  Reaching out, he grasped her hand and
pulled her onto his lap, which was where he liked her
best.

"Hugh!"  Irene fell down laughing,
wriggling her soft bottom around on his thighs and stirring his
interest as her feminine curves pressed against him.  Looping
his arm around her slim waist, he grinned as he realized that she
wasn't wearing a corset.  She often didn't around the house,
unless they were expecting guests or she was having an at-home.
 Hugh preferred it that way, and it wasn’t as if she truly
needed one. His wife had a wonderfully slight figure.
 

"See?"  Hugh said, pointing at the
pertinent section in the letter as Irene settled against him.
 "He's marrying his ward, Cynthia."

"The woman his mother described as a
demon sent to plague her into an early grave?  That's not very
nice."  Irene's eyes scanned the paragraph and blinked with
surprise.  "He says the Countess seems happy about
it?"

"Apparently. Either she changed her
mind about Miss Bryant being a demon, or she’s just so relieved
that Wesley is to be married that she doesn’t care to who. Which I
can understand, since I wouldn’t have placed bets on him running to
the alter anytime soon.  They're to be married in two weeks.
 How would you like to go to Bath, sweetheart?"

"And miss the end of the Season?
 Oh tragedy," Irene said dramatically, pressing her hand to
her bosom as she rolled her eyes.  Hugh chuckled and kissed
the upturned underside of her chin.  Bath might not be the
country, but he wasn't at all surprised that Irene would still find
it preferable to London, especially if it meant quitting the end of
the Season early.  And the way things had been going so far
this Season, it wouldn't be a bad thing to end their Season early
when it was for a socially acceptable reason such as Wesley's
wedding.   Now that he knew how excitable Irene was, some
months away from London where she could continue to build her
confidence away from her mother and also learn to control her
impulses, sounded extremely beneficial. She’d been thrust into the
social scene as his wife largely unprepared, by next Season he was
sure that she’d be more comfortable in her position and with
herself. But they couldn’t have just left without a reasonable
excuse or it would have set tongues wagging; however, Wesley’s
wedding was the perfect opportunity as no one would see anything
strange in it. There would be no reason to speculate that the
recent interaction with Lady Brooke had anything to do with their
departure, for example.

In fact, Hugh wouldn't be
surprised if quite a few members of the
ton
also left the capital early in
order to attend the Earl of Spencer's wedding.  Not just
because Wesley was important as both an Earl and for business he
created when he was in India, but because of his reputation.
 The dragons of the
ton
 (many of whom were friends
with the Countess) would want to see the downfall of a rake so they
could crow smugly over it, the men would want to come and see what
woman had managed to catch the notorious Earl of Spencer (and share
a drink over another fallen comrade), and the young wives and
widows would want to see if Wesley would remain true to his usual
ways or if he had reformed.  Hugh highly suspected that those
ladies would be disappointed.

Although Wesley's wedding certainly
wouldn't deplete attendance of the Season.  There was still
the marriage mart to keep it going, those members of Society who
never left London, not to mention the simple fact that there were
several major events upcoming that would have to be missed in order
to attend the wedding.  None of which was a concern for Hugh,
but would be for many others.  

"I wonder why the sudden decision,"
Irene said, as she finished reading the letter and shaking Hugh
from his thoughts.  "He doesn't say anything about how or why
this came about."

"Probably compromised her beyond
redemption."

"Hugh!  What a thing to say about
your friend!"  Irene gave him a baleful look, lightly slapping
his chest.  "I'm sure Lord Spencer did no such thing." There
was a hint of doubt in her voice, but not much. One thing that Hugh
had noticed was that Irene tended to take people at face value,
something that wasn’t always wise to do but which he adored about
her. She’d learn eventually, but he did enjoy her innocence for
now, especially when it meant she hadn’t seen Wesley for what he
truly was.

"You have a very rosy view of my
friends, sweetheart."

"Because you're all gentlemen and
should behave as such," his wife said, rather primly.  Hugh
loved it when she was prim, it made debauching her so much more
entertaining.  It wasn't that she’d forgotten about when he
had made love to her outside under the sun, or that she'd forgotten
the spankings she'd received at his hand, and she was a creative
and passionate lover, but she held onto certain notions
sometimes...

"If you say so, dear," Hugh said,
leaning forward to nuzzle his face into the soft curve of her
breasts.  He breathed in her scent, lavender and woman and
utterly intoxicating; he tightened his arm about her waist and
brought his other hand down to clamp around her thigh.

"Hugh!"  Laughing, Irene tried to
push him away, but he just growled and held on more tightly,
turning her slightly so that he could bury his face between the
delightful mounds.  Her morning dress didn't show a lot of
cleavage, but enough to tease him, enough to allow him to lick her
skin in between her breasts.  Sliding his hand up from her
thigh to cup her breast, Hugh squeezed it gently, and she gasped,
her voice lowering to a whisper.  "Hugh, we can't!  The
door's unlocked!"

"Adds a certain flair to the situation,
doesn't it?"  He whispered back, teasingly as his fingers
tweaked her nipple and then moved on to begin undoing her buttons
at the top of her dress.  He loved buttons down the front of a
dress.  “We could be interrupted at any moment and then
someone would see me making love to my beautiful wife…”

"Hugh, no, stop," Irene whispered,
giggling nervously, although obviously unsure as to whether or not
he was serious in his intent.  The little darting glances she
gave at the door as a fiery blush rose in her cheeks, combined with
her squirming bottom on his lap and her useless attempt to bat his
hands away from her buttons, was delightful. Hugh’s cock was
pressed against the underside of her bottom, already achingly hard
as he teased her.  The sides of her dress fell open, revealing
the creamy mounds of her breasts through the thin chemise she was
wearing, with the rosy pink hint of her nipple.

"You don't really want me to stop," he
murmured, pulling her down for a kiss as his hand slid into the top
of her dress.  Her breast was warm and heavy in his hand, the
little nipple already hardening into a bud.  The protest she
tried to voice was muffled, first by his lips and then by his
tongue as he thrust it into her mouth.  Pinching her nipple,
he tugged it fully to hardness, feeling her shudder on his lap as
she moaned into his mouth.

Bending her back, so that she had to
catch his shirt to keep from falling back completely, Hugh deepened
the kiss and took advantage of her precarious balance to more fully
open her dress so that, other than the thin chemise, her breasts
were bared to the air.  He ignored her muffled protest.
 It was unlikely that any of the servants would enter without
knocking and he rather liked the idea of debauching his wife in the
middle of the day, in his study, with an unlocked door.
 Especially since she obviously found it to be a scandalous
proposition.

If anyone did see her in such a state
he would be furious and jealous, but the idea that someone might
walk in was rather exciting. And, despite her protests, he thought
that she felt the same.

Releasing her lips from the kiss, Hugh
moved his mouth down her neck and to her breasts.  Irene
moaned as he closed his lips over one of her nipples, sucking on
the hard little bud through her chemise.  The wetted fabric
clearly showed the rosy outline when he was done with it, and he
transferred his attentions to the other.  She whimpered his
name and the blood in his body seemed to surge down to his cock,
the hard rod pressing against the cheeks of her bottom as she
squirmed and shuddered.

Her hands were now clutching at the
lapels of his jacket and she’d stopped fighting him, all of her
movements were that of an aroused, passionate woman. Exactly how he
wanted her. Hugh wanted to drive his wife beyond the point where
she cared whether or not someone walked in, to the point where her
entire focus was on him and the things he was doing to her
malleable body.

"Are you wet, Irene?" he asked,
grasping her by the waist and lifting her to his desk. Seating her
on it directly in front of him, he slid his chair forward to insert
himself between her thighs, his hands on the inside of each of her
legs to keep them spread.  The front of her dress gaped, the
unbuttoned flaps falling to either side, so that she was only truly
covered by her chemise.  The wet fabric over her nipples clung
to the hard tips, causing her to look even more provocative.
 Her face was flushed and her eyes had that shiny dazed look
that he associated with her arousal.  She lowered her gaze and
shook her head, unable to meet his eyes, and he grinned.  "I
think you might be lying wife... I suppose I'll just have to
check."

"Hugh, noooo..."  She looked over
her shoulder at the closed door, her protest soft, as she tried to
push her skirts back down from where he was lifting
them. 

Laughing at her, Hugh leaned forward so
he could gently push her down until she was lying flat on her back
on his desk, her legs hanging over the edge.  With the top of
her dress completely open and her skirt up around her hips, his
wife looked more wanton than proper. His cock throbbed with
excitement at seeing her laid out like this; in his fantasies she’d
always been completely naked by this point, but the open clothing
added a certain spice to reality that just couldn’t be beat.
 

Pulling her legs up and over his
shoulders to make her more comfortable – having them hang like that
looked rather awkward - and so that she couldn't close them, he
grinned at her as he wrapped one arm around her thigh and laid his
hand over her mound with its coppery curls, stroking one finger
down between her folds.  It came away soaking wet.