Punishing His Ward (4 page)

And Cynthia did rather want a friend
near her age.  

Besides, as a married lady, Eleanor
probably knew all sorts of things that Cynthia was curious about.
 

The Earl's thigh pressed
against hers through her skirts, distracting her, but she couldn't
move away without encroaching on the Countess' space.  It was
only then that she realized Eleanor had asked her a question.
 

Blushing, she forced
herself to focus, wondering why she was so off-kilter.  Surely
it was the presence of guests, and not the attractive and surly man
beside her.

******

Seeing the amusement in
Edwin's eyes, Wesley wondered again why he hadn't sat down in the
chair that had been left open for him.  At first he'd told
himself that he'd sat beside Cynthia in order to lessen the burden
of watching over her from his mother.  It was a well-known
fact in the Spencer household that the Countess would keep whatever
child she thought was most likely to misbehave close to her side.
 She was adept at knowing which one was up to
mischief.

But now that he was sitting here, his
thigh pressed against Cynthia's through her skirts, and his eyes
wandering to that fantastic bosom - no matter that it was currently
decently covered - he knew that he'd been lying to himself.
 He'd wanted to sit next to her. To discompose her the way she
discomposed him.

Once he'd realized that
she'd been listening at the keyhole, his hand had itched to spank
her again.  In fact, he'd found himself becoming aroused at
the thought, despite the presence of Eleanor, Edwin and, most
notably, his mother.  Was it the temptation of forbidden
fruit?  Or was it the lush curves of the young woman in
question?  

Either way, he knew that
it was a temptation he wasn't going to be giving in to.  He
had to get the chit married off, and quickly.  Maybe he'd
seduce her afterwards, he mused, once she was no longer a
(possible) innocent, no longer his responsibility and had become
acceptable prey for seduction. Then he wondered if the reason he
insisted on casting a shadow of doubt over her innocence was for
his own sordid desires.  

"Wesley are you listening?"

"Ah - no, sorry Mother, I
was wool gathering."  Years of practice kept him from actually
blushing.  Nothing like plotting the possible future seduction
of your ward only to be caught out by your mother.  Besides
which, he was going to need to convince some poor sot to marry her
first.  There had to be at least a few unobjectionable men
that would want his favor and be willing to overlook her wild ways
- unobjectionable to his mother that was.  He could think of a
dozen fortune hunters off hand that would be happy to take on a
wife like Cynthia as long as she came with a good dowry, especially
considering her looks, but his mother would never stand for
it.

"I was saying that there's going to be
a ball at the Assembly house on Thursday.  As the Earl, you
should be there."  The glint in his mother's eye made Wesley
feel a little uneasy.  He assumed that she wanted him there to
keep an eye on Cynthia and to assist with her chaperoning duties,
but something about the way she said it made him think there was
more to the matter.  And that whatever the "more" was, it was
something she thought he wouldn't like.

"You'll be going, won't you?" he asked,
turning to Edwin and Nell.  Bath tended to be dull as it was,
but if he had to go then perhaps his friends would indulge him as
well.

Eleanor glanced at Edwin, beseechingly.
 Good old Nell.  He could always count on her to want to
get out and have some fun.  Edwin's eyes rolled upwards but he
nodded his head. 

"Yes, I'm sure Eleanor would enjoy an
evening out."  He smiled indulgently at her as she beamed at
him.  "I know how you love to dance."

"I'll save all my waltzes for
you."

The Countess shook her head and tutted.
 "Scandalous."  But she was smiling and there was no heat
to her voice. 

"Yes, we caused quite a
bit of talk back in London," Edwin said unrepentantly.  "I am
unfashionably enamoured of my wife."  Eleanor's cheeks turn a
bright pink as he reached out and took her hand.  Wes thought
his mother looked a bit wistful.  Glancing down at Cynthia,
she was watching the couple with a strange kind of fascination.
 He wondered what was going through the little minx's
mind.

"Well I think it's lovely," Wesley's
mother said firmly.  "As long as you're not completely
improper about it."

Eleanor cleared her throat, still
looking quite pink and pleased.  "Would you and Cynthia like
to come for tea tomorrow afternoon?  I would love to have some
company."

"I'm having tea with the Dowager
Duchess of Camden," the Countess said.  Wesley actually felt
Cynthia wilt beside him in disappointment and he coughed to cover a
snicker.  The Dowager Duchess was a right old bag, he couldn't
imagine that she had anything approving or complimentary to say to
Cynthia.  "I'm sure that Cynthia would love to join you,
however."

"Really?!"  Cynthia
perked right back up before slapping her hands over her mouth, as
if afraid the reprieve would be snatched away if she questioned it.
 Wesley didn't bother to hold back his laughter this time.
 When she glared at him he only laughed harder.  Edwin
was chuckling as well.  

"I'm sure Lady Hyde will be much
more... ah...  convivial company for you than my own set," the
Countess said, shooting a dark look at both Wesley and Edwin.
 He grinned at her and then winked at Cynthia, who was
pretending not to notice him.  But her cheeks darkened even
further when he winked.  There was something delightfully
refreshing about her uncensored reactions; amazing that she'd
managed to hold onto that trait when living with his mother.
 It also made teasing her quite a bit more enjoyable.
 "And it will be good for you to have some companionship of a
proper young lady."

This time, Wesley and Edwin both
manfully swallowed their laughter.  While her husband might be
working on her behavior, Wesley doubted that Eleanor would ever be
completely proper.

London was lonely without Hugh's
friends and family.   Irene was making new connections as his
wife and a future Countess, but she had no idea whether or not
those connections were because of her new position or because she
was liked for herself.  Eleanor would have been able to help
her, but now she was taken away to Bath with her husband; which
made Irene fret as it had been all her fault that Edwin and Hugh
had learned about Eleanor's plans to leave town.  While Hugh
assured her that Edwin would never harm Eleanor, he'd looked so
black and angry when he'd left.

Irene had sent a letter to Eleanor,
apologizing profusely, but it took time for the mail to be
delivered.  And who knew if Eleanor would write her back?
 Perhaps she would be too angry.

Other than Eleanor, Alex would have
been someone that Irene could count on to steer her in the right
direction, but she didn't want to upset the wonderful new
revelations between her and Hugh.  After all, she'd only just
barely realized that her love for Hugh was very different from her
love for Alex; she worried that any further contact with Alex might
make Hugh doubt those revelations.  

She'd much rather stay in
every night than go out.  It was a strain to be the perfect
wife in Society, to make up to Hugh for her embarrassing lack of
restraint when she'd thrown herself at Alex, and all the while
wondering which smiles directed her way were sincere and which were
not.  Staying in with her husband and his wonderfully
inventive and exciting activities in their bedroom was much more
preferable.  Unfortunately Hugh's title and responsibilities,
and effectively her own, made that an
impossibility. 

Standing at the front
window of their house, Irene stared out onto the street, watching
people passing without really seeing them.  Hugh had gone out
for the afternoon to his club and she'd told him that she was going
to visit some friends.  Except that she'd stayed home instead.
 She couldn't wait until the Season was over and they could go
back out to the country, back to Westingdon.  That was really
where their relationship had begun, where she'd started to learn
the difference between girlish love and adoration for Alex and the
real love and desire that had unfolded between her and
Hugh.

Two men strode into view,
obviously deeply involved in conversation, and Irene blinked.
 Was that Hugh and Alex?  What were they doing
together?

She glanced at the clock.  It was
only half an hour till dinner, which was when Hugh had told her
that he'd return home.

Backing away from the window, Irene
stood in the middle of the drawing room, her hands shaking, and
wondered what she should do.  Catching a glimpse of herself in
the gilded mirror over the mantle, she could see that her green
eyes looked overly large in her pale face, almost
frightened.

She hadn't seen Alex since that awful
night when she'd thrown herself at him, desperate to prove to
herself that she loved him the way she'd always thought she did,
only to discover that not only was she wrong, but that Alex's
feelings for her didn't go beyond brotherly.  Although, in
retrospect, that was a good thing because he hadn't aroused a
single ounce of desire in her either.  Love, adoration, and
warmth, but not the stronger, wilder emotions that her husband
inspired.  But, as if that hadn't been embarrassing enough,
then Hugh had spanked her in front of Alex to demonstrate how to
deal with a recalcitrant wife.  The entire evening had been
horribly embarrassing. 

Scrubbing her hands over her suddenly
burning face, Irene took a deep breath.  Whether or not it had
been humiliating, she also realized that night had been the
beginning of a turning point in her marriage.  She hadn't been
quite ready to admit it until then, but she'd finally seen her
delusions for what they were and, because of that night, she and
Hugh had admitted their emotions to each other.  Now Irene was
happy, at least with her marriage, and felt secure in Hugh's love
for her.  But it was time to face Alex as well.

After all, she did miss her friend.
 And hadn't she just been thinking about how bereft she was of
people that she truly trusted?

How like her husband to make the first
steps in mending the breach.  If Hugh was bringing Alex to
their home at this time of night, she assumed he had asked Alex to
stay for dinner.

Masculine voices rang in the entrance
hall and Irene gathered her courage.  Being married to Hugh
had bolstered her confidence in so many ways.  When she'd
first married Hugh, she would have faced whatever he wanted her to
because he wanted her to.  Now she faced uncomfortable
situations because she had learned how to have strength for
herself.

******

Seeing his wife coming to greet them,
Hugh had to push down the automatic rush of possessiveness that
rose up inside of him.  He'd run into Lord Brooke at the club
and they'd sat down to have a talk over a glass of brandy.
 Although it was obvious that Alex didn't see Irene as
anything other than a well-loved younger sister, and never had,
Hugh couldn't help but remember that helpless jealousy that he'd
experienced upon realizing that Irene's feelings had been more
conflicted.  They'd worked through that between the two of
them, but he knew she was lonely and missed her friend. Part of him
wanted the two of them to never see each other again, but he knew
that was unfair and unreasonable.

Besides, even if Irene hadn't cared
whether or not she ever saw Alex again, Hugh knew it would be
unavoidable.  He'd grown up with two best friends who were
still his closest friends in the world, Edwin and Wesley, and
Wesley had recently become quite attached to Alex.  Also, with
the lands from Irene's dowry, they were now neighbors in the
country.  There would be no avoiding him in the future, not
with those kind of connections.

And, Hugh had to admit to himself, he
did enjoy the man's company.  He was extremely intelligent,
had a sharp wit even though he never smiled, and never sat on his
laurels.  Unlike many of their peers, they didn't rest on
their laurels and allow others to transact all their business.
 It was a trait that Hugh shared with his other two friends
and very much appreciated in Alex.    

"Hello sweetheart," Hugh said, striding
forward to greet Irene and also to lend her any support that she
might need.  He knew that his wife was not always comfortable
in difficult social situations.  Spanking her in front of Alex
might have been a mistake, but he'd been so very angry that night
and he'd wanted very much to prove to her that he wasn't a monster.
 Punishing her with Alex as an audience had demonstrated, in a
way that nothing else could have, that her childhood hero wasn't
going to step in and save her from richly deserved discipline.
 But now he didn’t want a permanent wedge between her and her
closest friend from childhood either.  Hopefully, by having
dinner together tonight, they could start a new kind of friendship
between the three of them.  "I've asked Lord Brooke to dine
with us tonight." 

Lowering his lips to Irene, he gave
her a chaste but intense kiss, and when he turned back to face
Alex, it was with his arm firmly wrapped around his wife's waist.
 He didn't look at the other man's face but watched Irene's;
she was so easy to read sometimes, her emotions clearly written
across her beautiful face. Hope. Desire. Fear.