Punishing His Ward (7 page)

Perhaps amenable enough that once she'd
popped out an heir or two, she'd be yet another bored matron that
he could seduce.  

Strangely, the idea didn't appeal as
much as it had the day before, but he attributed the restlessness
that he felt to impatience.  After all, what man wanted to
wait a few years to realize a fantasy?  Even a fantasy that
had been in existence for only a few days?

"I like to ride," she
said, looking at him as though he was an animal at the zoo whose
behavior she was trying to discern.  He supposed he had spoken
a little abruptly.  "And I'm fond of the pianoforte.  But
I rather hate musicales.  It's a tragedy how many of
the
ton
have no
talent, and most of them don't seem to realize it."  He
couldn't gainsay her on that, since he religiously avoided all
musicales, which were little more than events designed to show off
young ladies’ in the Marriage Mart’s musical attributes.  For
someone who truly appreciated music, those evenings were often
torturous. 

"Theater?  Opera?"

"I've never been," she replied, rather
wistfully.

That seemed almost a crime.  A
woman as stunning as Cynthia deserved to be one of the adornments
in an opera box; he could imagine her in a low cut evening dress,
dripping sparkling jewels - yellow topaz to bring out the gold in
her eyes, breathlessly listening to a passionate
aria.  He'd have to see which of the men currently in
Bath enjoyed such outings, there must be some, although the vast
majority of that kind would be in London for the end of the current
Season.

For a moment he wondered why his mother
hadn't brought Cynthia to London, instead of Bath, and then he
remembered the way in which he'd met Cynthia and how his mother had
looked when he'd first arrived.  No, Cynthia was far too wild
for his mother to adequately deal with in a city like London when
it was filled with all sorts of unsavory gentlemen who would be
only too pleased with Cynthia's looks and lack of decorum.  If
she'd appeared in some ballroom, without him knowing who she was,
the saints only knew what his reaction would have
been. 

"Very good," he said, distractedly.
 Cynthia gave him another confused look as he stood and left
the table, but he didn't notice.  He was too busy
concentrating on running from temptation and the strange urge to
stay and enjoy her company.  It was time to
retreat.

******

The house that Lord and Lady Hyde in
was in an equally fashionable part of Bath as the Countess'
residence, although the decor showed it to be a house to let,
unlike the Countess' house which was obviously a home.  Still,
it was quite beautiful and Cynthia found herself very quickly
relaxed as she chatted with Eleanor, who seemed to be just as
interested in Cynthia as Cynthia was in her.  Today the blonde
was dressed quite fashionably in a blue and cream damask that
brought out the bright color of her eyes and enhanced the golden
blonde of her hair, the stylish cut making the most of her rather
striking figure.

In contrast, Cynthia was
wearing a dark pink dress that was fashionably cut, but much less
modestly than Lady Hyde's.  She'd managed to get her own way
on most of her dresses when she and the Countess had visited
the
modiste
, and
it wasn't until she sat next to Eleanor that she felt tawdry in
comparison.  But Eleanor didn't seem to think so, she barely
paid attention to what Cynthia was wearing, she was much more
interested in questioning her about Lord Spencer and the state of
the household. 

"He's not generally so stuffy," she
assured Cynthia, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.  "It
was quite entertaining seeing him performing as a proper gentleman
yesterday.  I've never seen him act quite like that
before."

"I think it's me," Cynthia said
truthfully.  "He seemed very different from when he was
speaking with just you and Lord Hyde... I mean..." Her cheeks
flushed darkly to match her dress as she realized what she had just
revealed.  Fortunately Lady Hyde wasn't upset, she laughed in
genuine amusement. 

"Were you listening at the
keyhole?"

"Ah... yes."  Giving the other
woman a sheepish look, Cynthia shrugged her shoulders.
 Normally she wasn't so loose-tongued, but Eleanor made her
feel comfortable in a way that she'd never experienced before; it
was just so easy to talk to her.  "I was curious about the
Earl, he acts so differently around me than his brothers
described."

"The Earl..."  Eleanor repeated,
as if tasting the words and debating whether or not she found them
to her liking.  "It's so hard to think of him like that... We
grew up together.  My brother Hugh, Edwin and Wesley.
 Out of all of them, Wesley's changed the least I think.
 At least, I thought that until I saw how stuffy he was being
yesterday."  She laughed again.  "He was certainly
playing the Earl in front of you.  I wonder why."
 

The intelligence in those bright,
searching blue eyes belied the old adage that beauty came without
brains.  Not that Cynthia had ever subscribed to that belief
anyway, since she knew very well that she was considered beautiful
and she had never thought of herself as anything but rather
clever. 

"We ah... may not have had the best
introduction."  Unable to help it, Cynthia giggled
conspiratorially, leaning in to tell Eleanor about running into
Wesley in the street.  Under the other woman's excited
urgings, she even told her about Mr. Carter, at which point
Eleanor's face grew more solemn. 

"I've heard of him..." she murmured,
sitting up straight with a rather worried expression.  "He
doesn't have a very good reputation."

"The Countess told me," Cynthia said
with a shrug.  "But he's never done more than kiss me.
 And a bit of… touching... above my waist," she added hastily,
seeing Eleanor's shocked expression.  "It's just... it's so
very exciting."

"I can imagine," Eleanor said, a little
smile of fellow feeling crossing her face before she turned serious
again.  "But, it's so much better to have that excitement with
someone who truly cares about you.  Someone whom you can
trust."

It was true that it was sometimes
tiresome to put off Mr. Carter, and the other gentlemen that
Cynthia had kissed, from further importunities.  Of course,
that was half the fun, letting them convince or seduce her into
going just a bit farther.  But so far she hadn't met any that
she could truly lose her head to, not the way she read about in
novels or heard whispered about from the maids.  Perhaps trust
was the missing ingredient?  After all, if she trusted a man,
then she wouldn't feel the need to constantly keep an eye on where
his hands were going.  

"And Lord Hyde?  He cares about
you?  You find this... excitement with him?"

Lady Hyde blushed and
hesitated. 

"I'm sorry, I know it's personal..."
Cynthia put on her wounded bird look.  "It's just that I don't
have anyone else to ask.  I certainly can't ask the Countess,
she'd probably faint."

The look Eleanor gave her said that she
didn't buy Cynthia's false despair at all, but there was no denying
that she couldn’t ask the Countess such questions.  "He does.
 I'm fairly certain he does."  A faint flush grew in her
cheeks.  "And I trust him, I always have, since I was a girl.
 Before we married, I thought to find a man... I thought my
ideal husband would be very different from him.  But now I
can't imagine being married to anyone else.  I wouldn't want
to be."

"And... and what do you do with him?"
 Cynthia asked, her insides curdling with excitement.
 She'd never spoken to anyone with the warm, wistful
expression that Eleanor had now.  Someone who was willing to
explain some of the intricacies between a man and a woman with her.
 All the Countess would tell her was what she shouldn't do,
and while disobeying that had led to some fascinating discoveries,
there was quite a bit that Cynthia was curious about, but which she
wanted some more information on before exploring on her own.
 "Does he touch you on your quim?  Men are always wanting
to touch me there... it feels wonderful when I do it on my own, but
what would I do if I got with child?"

"Good God..." Eleanor stared at her and
Cynthia shrank into herself, suddenly worried that she'd ruined
their friendship by saying too much.  What would Eleanor think
of her now?  Would she disapprove and pull away?  Cynthia
waited on tenterhooks, horribly afraid now that she'd exposed
herself.  She didn't think she could bear it if Eleanor
rejected her now.  The other woman's lips closed and then
twitched in something like amusement and Cynthia found that she
could suddenly breathe a little easier.  "This is really...
these are things that should be discussed before your wedding
night.  And you absolutely should not let any gentlemen touch
your... your quim.  You've ah... you've touched it
yourself?"

"Oh yes," Cynthia said cheerfully,
reassured that Eleanor was not going to boot her from the drawing
room.  "Mother told me not to, you see.  And it's quite
lovely.  I've thought about letting a gentleman touch me
there, to see if it’s different, but I don't want to get with
child."

"That won't, but you
shouldn't let them touch you there anyway.  Once they do they
might try to go further, and if they put their... um, their rod
into your quim then you
will
 get with child," Eleanor
said rather sternly.

"Their rod?"

Eleanor blushed and gestured to her
groin area.  "Men have a... a rod where a woman has a
quim."

"Oh, you mean a cock."

This time Eleanor burst out laughing,
covering her mouth with her hands as Cynthia stared at her,
slightly confused.  The amusement was contagious though, and
she found herself smiling.  It was a rather absurd
conversation, as well as wonderfully revealing.  And she'd
learned a new word. 

"You are the most... confusing mix of
innocence and too much knowledge," Eleanor said when her giggles
finally subsided, although she was still smiling rather widely.
 "It's bound to get you into trouble.  How do you know
what a cock is?"

"Mr. Carter told me when I asked what
was pressing against me so hard when we kissed."

"Good grief," Eleanor said, rolling her
eyes.  "He sounds like a complete scoundrel, he shouldn’t have
said that at all.  That word is rather ah... crude.  You
really shouldn't allow him to touch you though, even if it won’t
get you with child.  I know the Countess has asked Wesley to
find you a husband, and once he has then you can explore to your
heart's content."

"What about my mouth?  Will that
get me with child?"

"Your
mouth?"

Cynthia found herself enjoying shocking
Eleanor.  There was a quality of delight, as much as some
disapproval, in the other woman's reactions.  And she didn't
condemn Cynthia, or tell her absolutely not to do something -
Eleanor was obviously intelligent enough to realize that the word
'don't' had a rather motivating effect on Cynthia, somehow
"shouldn't" didn't engender quite the same response - but she
explained things in such a manner to make Cynthia think more about
what she was doing.  It was also exciting to know that she
knew a few more things than a properly married lady did.

"Yes, Mr. Carter suggested that I might
put his co- ah... rod, into my mouth and that he would find that
quite pleasurable."

To her delight, Eleanor looked very
much struck by the notion.  "Why... I have no
idea."

"Better not risk it then," Cynthia said
musingly. 

"Better not risk anything at all with
Mr. Carter," Eleanor observed.  "Unless you think you might
want to marry him?  Wesley absolutely won't allow you to be
ruined on his watch, but Mr. Carter doesn't sound look good husband
material."

"No, I suppose not."  Cynthia
sighed.  "But he is a very good kisser."

"I'm sure that if you do have a
preference, Wesley would be reasonable.  He was always
stubborn, but very considerate."

Smiling, Cynthia allowed Eleanor to
turn the subject back to the Earl of Spencer.  After all, she
wasn't loathe to hear more about her intriguingly confusing
guardian, especially from someone who’d known him as long as
Eleanor had and could provide so much insight.  Besides, when
it came to relations between men and women, Eleanor’s answers to
her questions had already given her plenty to think on.

******

That evening Eleanor and
Edwin dined with friends of their parents, Lord and Lady
Montgomery and a small assembly of their guests.  Since the
Season was coming to an end in London there were some younger
guests that were closer to Eleanor and Edwin’s age.  Eleanor
had noticed that, other than Cynthia, Bath was quite bereft of
anyone that could be considered her or Edwin’s “crowd.”  In
some ways, that was a relief, because there was also less
competition for her husband’s attention and for hers.

She hadn’t realized, until
they’d left the ballrooms of London, how much of a strain it was
for both of them to be constantly importuned by others.  There
were always women hovering around Edwin, and Eleanor realized that,
with his reputation, more than one of them probably had rather
intimate knowledge of her husband.  But by the same token,
there were always men hovering around Eleanor, disappointed that
they hadn’t seen her before Edwin had snapped her up, and now
wondering if she might be amenable to some intimacies.