Punishing His Ward

Punishing His
Ward

By G. Angel

Published by G. Angel

Copyright 2013 G. Angel

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own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

A huge thank you to Fifi and
AquaQueen, without whom this book would not be what it
is.

Chapter 1

Out of all the words in the English
language, Cynthia's absolute favorite was "don't."

The most interesting things to do were
always “don’t”s.  That was how she'd learned that climbing
trees was great fun and so was swimming in the lake.  It was
how she'd learned breeches were more comfortable than skirts and
riding astride much more exciting (and easier) than riding in a
lady's sidesaddle - although she could do both.  Kissing was
another great fun that she would have missed out on if she listened
to that word, "don't."  

The moment Cynthia was told "don't,”
she immediately felt the strong urge to do whatever it was she
wasn’t supposed to.  And it led to such wondrous
discoveries!

As she'd grown older, those discoveries
were what gave her life sparkle after her parents died.  Of
course she missed them very much, she did, but that didn't mean
that her life should always be sad.  She was sad when she
thought of them and she'd mourned them very properly, and during
her mourning period had tried to behave as the perfect young lady
that she hadn't been during their lives, but once she'd thrown off
the black she'd thrown off that shroud of gloom as well.  Life
was just more fun when attempting all the things one wasn't
supposed to do.

Which was how she'd ended up sneaking
out of Lady Spencer's house in Bath to go meet with the scandalous
Mr. Carter.  According to her ladyship, Mr. Carter was a
rogue, a rake, a dissolute braggart and a man completely without
honor.  Her ladyship's clear instructions had been "don't ever
even talk to him, avoid him at all costs."

How was Cynthia supposed to ignore such
temptation? Such a colorful description? Mr. Carter must know even
more wonderful things that one wasn't supposed to do, things that
Cynthia didn’t know.  And she had to admit that she rather
thought he cut a dashing figure with his air of indifference, those
lazy brown eyes and that mop of golden curls that was always
slightly mussed.  So of course when he'd coaxed her onto the
terrace during one of the Assemblies she'd gone willingly, only to
be interrupted moments later by an irate Lady Spencer.

Fortunately he'd found her in a shop
this morning, her hovering chaperone nearby but not within earshot,
and had murmured that he'd like to meet her.  She'd whispered
back that she'd meet him at the nearby park in the afternoon, when
she knew Lady Spencer would most likely be entertaining.  At
first her ladyship had tried to include Cynthia in her 'at-homes,'
but Cynthia quickly grew bored of sitting, drinking tea, and
listening to vicious old ladies exchange scathing observations and
gossip.  Although she did perk up whenever any of them had
anything to say about Lady Spencer’s sons.  

She'd become great friends with Matthew
and Vincent, and while she hadn't met the Earl of Spencer yet, she
rather enjoyed hearing stories about him.  Most of the best
stories weren't told in Lady Spencer's presence, but a few of the
old dragons would whisper the juicy tidbits to each other while the
Countess was occupied, and Cynthia had managed to overhear quite a
bit.  Gambling, tumbling other men's wives, gallivanting about
town... it all sounded quite grand to her.  They said he was
as handsome as the devil with a twinkle in his eye that could make
the most chaste lady turn up her skirts for him.

Cynthia knew that she wasn't supposed
to know what that meant, but she did. She was bright enough, and
listened often enough to the matrons’ gossip, to at least be able
to guess at some of the things men and women did together. Husbands
and wives, Lady Spencer had said, but Cynthia knew that unmarried
couples did the same activities. 

Perhaps the most
delightful "don't" she'd ever received was "don't touch yourself
between your legs."  Combined with her observations and her
natural penchant for trying anything new, she'd quickly managed to
discover exactly
why
touching herself between her legs could be quite wonderful,
although she still hadn't discerned why it was a
"don't."

Mr. Carter had wanted to
touch her between her legs today, but she hadn't allowed him to.
 She was wary of gentlemen, not wanting to find herself in
a
situation
,
although she certainly planned on touching
herself
 there as soon as she
was able.  His passionate kisses and wandering hands had quite
aroused her.  But she had remained cognizant of the fact that
Lady Spencer couldn't remain shut up in her room forever, even if
the woman had thrown quite a fit when she'd realized that her
charge and the roguish Mr. Carter were standing far too close to
each other in the store.  She'd dragged Cynthia home
immediately, told her to stay in her room until the Earl arrived
there this afternoon to "deal with her," and then immediately took
refuge in her own room.

Of course Cynthia wasn't going to stay
in her room, not when she wanted to know what Mr. Carter could show
her, but she had known that she only had a limited amount of time.
 Then they'd almost been caught by a pair of gossiping girls
who were talking in high-pitched excited voices about how both the
rakish Lord Hyde and the Earl of Spencer had been seen in
town. 

Still, it had all been rather wonderful
even if she had to rush home now.

Unfortunately, just after pushing
through a group of rather rowdy young men, she ran straight into
the poor man that was walking behind them.  She thought it was
unfortunate because he seemed like a very fine specimen of a man,
even taller than Mr. Carter and with a harder body - she knew
because it felt like she'd just smashed herself against a wall -
and he was very handsome, but she didn't have time to make any kind
of introduction or discover his direction.  It also wasn't the
kind of impression she wanted to make on a man as attractive as he
was, but it couldn't be helped.

"Oh I'm so sorry, I beg your pardon!"
she blurted out, before darting past him.  Hopefully he
wouldn't get a good enough look at her to remember her if they were
to meet later; she'd rather he remember her as anything other than
a rampaging harpy dashing through the street.  Hurrying up the
steps to the house she went immediately into the front door, hoping
that Manfred might be in one of the other rooms doing whatever it
was he did when he wasn't watching her with disapproving
eyes.

Unfortunately her hopes
were in vain.  Not only was Manfred standing in the center of
the foray, there were several other servants running in and out of
the room as well, including her maid Julie who looked to be rather
teary-eyed.  Cynthia glared at Manfred.  If he'd been
taking Julie to task over Cynthia's disappearance then she would
have words with him.  How could a mere maid be expected to
keep tabs on her?  

Manfred ignored her as the front door
opened behind her again.  Shockingly, something like relief
flickered across his normally blank face.  

"My Lord.... your ward has
returned."

Oh dear.  So not only was the Earl
of Spencer certainly here, he knew she had been missing.
 Well, Cynthia had always been one to face up to her misdeeds
without flinching.  After all, they were almost always well
worth whatever repercussions came from ignoring the word
"don't."

Taking a deep breath for
fortitude, she turned to face the Earl and gasped.  It was the
same man she'd bumped into outside!  Now that she could get a
better look at him she realized why she would have never expected
him to be an Earl - he didn't at all look like one.  Even
though he'd been described as a rogue and a devil, she still
expected him to look like the other rakes amongst the
ton
 that she'd met.
 This man had tanned skin, like a laborer, and his brown hair
was long and unruly, falling in waves down to the collar of his
shirt.  A shirt which was anything but pristine and his cravat
was crooked too.  Besides which, he wasn't even wearing a
waistcoat!  What kind of titled nobility went anywhere without
a waistcoat? He looked more like a pirate than an Earl!

She was so busy gaping at him that she
missed seeing the amusement that flashed across his face.
 

"So I see," the Earl
said. 

Well he might be a rogue
and a devil, but he looked like a severe and unhappy guardian to
her.  Cynthia recognized the features of his brothers in his
face, but the Earl wasn't looking at her with playful amusement or
gleeful hilarity; he looked just as angry as his mother often did.
 And not nearly as easy to ignore. 

Still.  Men often
thought she was beautiful, over the years she’d learned that they
were much more likely to grant her leeway than women. Even her
father had been more easily charmed than her mother.  And, as
she regained her composure, she didn't miss the way his eyes
flicked down to her bosom.  Cynthia had often found that
beauty and a great deal of cleavage went a long way with
men.

"My lord," she said prettily, batting
her eyes and dipping down into the low curtsy that often grabbed
men's attention. 

Wesley, being such a
favorite among the
ton
's ladies, recognized her tactics immediately.  In any
other young beauty he might have admired her inspiration or been
amused by her obvious ploy.  But this was his ward and while
he might enjoy his leisure, his rakish reputation was a relief from
the responsibility that plagued him.

And when it came to this
young woman, responsibility was to be his byword.  Not only
did his personal sense of honor demand it, his mother would as
well.  He held Cynthia's future in his hands; he was to
shelter, succor and care for her until he could get her married off
in a reasonable match (his mother wanted a good match, but he was
willing to settle for a reasonable one, just to speed things along
and get this blatant temptation out of his life).  That was
his duty as a guardian.  

His hardening cock and
roving eyes had obviously not heeded his intentions, but he could
ignore that.

Crossing his arms over his
chest, he forced himself to turn away from her and look at Manfred.
 "I'll deal with my ward in my study.  Get the household
back in order now that she's been found.  And make sure that
no one has disturbed my mother."

"Yes, my Lord," Manfred
said with a little bow; his tone and demeanor much more respectful
than it usually was when he was addressing Wesley.  Obviously
he meant to set a good example for Miss Cynthia Bryant on how one
was supposed to behave with an Earl.  Wesley barely glanced at
her, although out of the corner of his eye he could see that she
was looking rather pouty and put out at being so deliberately
ignored by him.  He’d wager not many men were able to overlook
her abundance of charms so easily, even if they'd wanted
to. 

Hell, it wasn't easy for
him to do and he was one of the most practiced rakes of the
ton.
  There was
just something about her... the slightest hint of refreshing
innocence to go with that devious sparkle in her eyes and innate
sensuality.  As if she truly didn't know where her words and
actions might lead, but was willing to explore.  An invitation
for a knowing man to lead her down the path of
wickedness.

Was she an innocent?

Normally he would have thought the
answer an immediate no.  His father's friend, Lord Harold
Bryant, and his wife Susannah had been very conservative.  No
daughter of theirs would be allowed to behave in any kind of
immoral or indecent manner.  And he would have banked his
mother against any young woman.

Obviously he would have been wrong on
all counts.  How could the staunchly upright Lord Bryant have
sired this seductive, brazen hussy?