Punishing His Ward (16 page)

"Aggravating baggage," he said,
although his tone wasn't severe at all.  Cynthia just smiled
brightly at him again, her cheeks flush with happiness.

******

Later that night, in his study, Wesley
studied the glass of brandy in his hand rather than sipping from
it.  He'd poured himself the alcohol, but had yet to drink a
single drop, although the current subject of his thoughts certainly
merited it.

Marriage.

And it looked that if he
was to have any choice in his bride, he must do so before next
Season.  Who knew what young ladies his mother might consider
appropriate for the position of his Countess if tonight was
anything to go by.  The Miss Whyte's of the world drove him
batty, it was part of the reason he'd assiduously avoided the
marriage mart at all costs while in London.  Even though he
was newly an Earl, it seemed the
ton
 had understood that he
wouldn't be looking for a bride during his first Season back from
India.

Next Season, with his
mother in town, it would be completely different.  Young
ladies would be loath to pass up the opportunity to be a Countess,
especially to an Earl who didn't need their dowry as an influx of
cash.  And his mother's presence, and encouragement, would
only exacerbate matters.  It wouldn't just be his mother's
machinations he would have to be wary of, but all the matrons and
young ladies of the
ton
.

Did his mother really think he'd be
happy settling down with one of those bird brained, conniving,
marriage hungry misses?  He adroitly dismissed the fact that
he'd been thinking along those lines originally, because he'd been
thinking about that in the far distant future. 

But now that he was realizing he might
need to move sooner rather than later, he couldn't quite reconcile
himself to the idea. 

Especially when Cynthia kept popping up
into his mind.  Cynthia and that slick, musky wetness that her
body had produced despite - or perhaps because of? - her spanking.
 Just thinking about it caused his cock to swell.  She
didn't want a husband who bored her... well, that was as good a
criteria to go on as any.  Wesley knew that he wouldn't bore
her.  And he didn't think that she would bore him.

Hell, just this morning he'd been
considering something along those lines, based on nothing more than
his attraction to her and the wetness of her quim after being
punished.  And he'd decided against it, but that was before
he'd known his mother's plans.  

If he had to choose a bride, and soon,
he could do worse than a chit who, at least, entertained him.
 Made him laugh.  And it was damned hard to keep his
hands off her anyway. 

The notion merited serious
contemplation.  Wesley swirled the contents of his brandy
glass around, watching the amber depths as they sloshed back and
forth.  Edwin had married for love, Hugh had married for land
- although it had obviously turned into something more, so he would
marry for... what?  Lust?

Maybe.  Perhaps he could convince
his mother to set aside her plans for at least another year, take
some time to think.

Although, by that time Cynthia would be
married off if his mother had anything to say about it.
 Wesley brought the snifter up to his mouth and drained
it.

Irene was so glad that the Season was
coming to a close.   She was looking forward to returning to
the countryside with Hugh.  The Duchess of Richmond's ball was
everything she disliked about London society - it was an absolute
crush, too loud, too packed and the odor left a great deal to be
desired - but it was one of those events that everyone must attend.
 Which accounted for the great number of people sipping tepid,
watered down lemonade and eating stale pastries as the night wore
on. 

Even worse were the number
of alluring, sophisticated and flirtatious ladies who filled the
capital.   While her mother had impressed upon Irene that it
was commonplace among the
ton
 for a man and wife to have
relations with others outside of their marriages, she hadn't
realized how much it would directly affect her.  At the time
she'd thought it was something to be desired, because she thought
that she and Alex would finally be able to be together in some
manner.

Now that she realized she loved Alex in
a completely different manner than she loved her husband, the idea
of Hugh enjoying intimacies with a woman outside of their marriage
was terrifying and painful.  At first she hadn't even realized
it might be a possibility, but it seemed there were far too many
married ladies who would be happy to pry Hugh away from the side of
his delicate wife.  Many of them had bought the story of her
fainting in the gardens (thankfully not realizing the truth of the
matter), and they assumed that Hugh would want to enjoy relations
with a woman who was more robust.  More sensual.

Several rakes had looked her way as
well, but somehow Hugh had managed to make it clear that he was not
going to be a complacent husband and those men had taken their
attentions elsewhere.  From what she understood from Hugh's
mutterings, they thought she was with child and so would be safe to
dally with.  Another repercussion of her "faint" in the
gardens.  However, he was showing himself to be protective
enough over her that they were more interested in easier
game.

Irene didn't mind that, of course.
 She certainly hadn't known how to deal with the flirtations
of the Earl of Sunderland or Viscount Bowlen.  But she did
mind that the women were proving to be remarkably tenacious in
their pursuit of Hugh.  Every time Irene was separated by her
husband at an event, when they found each other again he always had
managed to attach some harpy to his person.  It was enough to
make Irene want to tear out their elaborately coiffed
hair.

But tonight she hadn't been able to
avoid a visit to the retiring room.  The lemonade might be
tepid and watered down, but she'd been thirsty enough to drink it
anyway.  And Hugh had said they couldn't quit for the evening
yet; apparently one must always stay a certain amount of time at
the more important events, which this was.

Not for the first time, she desperately
wished that she had never planned to run away with Eleanor and that
her sister-in-law was still in London.  

Catching sight of her husband's golden
head of hair through the crowd, Irene breathed a sigh of relief and
began making her way over to him.  At least Hugh was tall
enough that she could usually find him fairly easily, even in a
crush like this.

It wasn't until she was closer that she
saw the dark head of a lady with her head tilted back, simpering up
at him.  Irene's breath caught in her throat, nearly
strangling her.  This was so, so much worse than any of the
random ladies whom Irene merely had a passing acquaintance with;
this particular lady had just cause to want to do Irene as much
harm as possible.

When Lady Grace had pulled her aside
and quietly set her down for her behavior with Alex, Irene had
haughtily told the new wife that she and Alex were long-time
friends, that there were more feelings between them than Lady Grace
would understand, and that she certainly would not change the way
she acted towards Alex just because he was married. Now, as a wife
herself and with her new understanding of what it was like to be
married to a man that was much sought after by other ladies, Irene
realized that she felt guilty about the way she’d behaved. No
wonder Lady Grace hadn’t liked her after that. Irene certainly
hadn’t given her any cause to.

Although it still didn’t
excuse Lady Grace’s awful behavior towards Alex, mere days later,
and the way she’d betrayed her marriage vows. The way she
gallivanted throughout the
ton
, causing scandal along the way
and humiliating Alex. He deserved better than Lady Grace; Irene’s
viewpoint on that certainly hadn’t changed. But it didn’t seem to
affect the guilt that swept through her either.

Irene had never expected
to see the lady here, at the Duchess of Richmond's ball, flirting
with her own husband.  Beautiful, accomplished Lady Grace,
who, despite the scandal, was one of the most sophisticated and
sought after ladies of the
ton
.  Who had already stolen
one man away from Irene - even if now she knew she didn't really
want him.  Irene absolutely did want Hugh and she was
perfectly willing to fight for him.

"There you are," Hugh said, smiling as
Irene hurried up to them, out of breath from practically running
headlong through the crowd.  "I was just telling Grace that
you were here, somewhere."

She bristled at Hugh's easy use of Lady
Grace's given name, even knowing that his sister was a longtime
friend.  "How nice to see you, Lady Grace," Irene lied, her
voice cold.  

"Viscountess," Lady Grace said, her
stunning blue eyes glinting with a cruel light.  The
intonation she gave the title only emphasized the fact that Irene
never, ever, called her Lady Brooke.  Tilting her head back
towards Hugh, she shared a decidedly intimate look with him.
 "I've just been having the most... delightful chat with
Hugh."  The sensual purr she used to say Hugh's name had
Irene's hackles climbing.

Either her husband didn't notice
anything or he didn't care, because he just smiled back at the
horrible woman. 

"How nice of you to keep him company
while I was away," Irene said, her tone implying that now she was
there, Lady Grace need not continue to do so. 

"Oh but of course, I'm
always happy to have a talk with one of my
oldest friends
," Lady Grace said,
laughing merrily.  She'd stressed the last two words, making
it clear to Irene that this closeness to Hugh, this relationship
with him, was giving her great vindication for Irene's treatment of
her when she'd married one Irene's oldest friends. A reiteration of
Irene’s words that marriage was not going to change the way she
treated Alex.  The irony was not lost on Irene, although she
didn't have any idea what to do about it. 

Anger, true anger like she'd never felt
before, was building up in her breast, making her feel flushed all
over.  Even the guilt was feeding into her anger, because she
didn’t want to feel it and she didn’t want to feel any sympathy for
Lady Grace.

"It's always nice to see you as well,
Grace," Hugh said amiably, smiling down at her.  Irene was
going to claw those sapphire eyes out, she really was.  And
tear out all that long, luxuriant dark hair.  Lady Grace had
the kind of effortless, stunning beauty that Irene had always
envied.  Just another reason to dislike the woman.  "I
know Nell will be gladdened to hear that you were here
tonight."

Lady Grace's smile turned a little
brittle before she returned it to its usual sparkle.  "I do
miss Nell so.  I may visit her once the Season is over."
 Which, of course, would deprive Irene of her sister-in-law's
company.  Leaning in towards Hugh, Lady Grace leaned forward
in such a way that nearly completely exposed her bosom; Irene
couldn't even imagine how much of a view her tall husband was
getting of the woman's well-rounded breasts.  "Will you be
spending any time with Eleanor and Lord Hyde in the coming months?
 If so, I'll have to ensure our visit coincides."

The little look that she flashed
Irene's way made it clear that this was for her benefit.  All
of it.  

Something hot and awful flashed through
Irene, and she found herself lunging at Grace before she even
realized what she was doing.  Her fingers caught up in the
other woman's dress, hooking into the fabric, before Hugh's arms
were suddenly around her, yanking her away.  The sudden
ripping sound of Grace's dress left them all gaping.  There
was a large hole in the lace overgown, right at the waistline,
where Irene's fingers had managed to find purchase.
 

"What is wrong with you?!  You...
you..."

Oh no... Hugh's arms tightened Irene as
if he was afraid she might launch herself at Lady Grace again, but
she'd already regained control over her impulses.  Enough so
to be mortified as people around them began to turn, staring at the
wreck that Irene had made of Lady Grace's skirt and the mottled red
of her face as she glared furiously at Irene. 

"Grace!"

Alex suddenly shoved his
way through the crowd of on-lookers, causing more than one lady to
gasp and begin to fan herself in anticipation of this latest
on dit.
  They might
not be sure exactly how Lady Brooke's dress had become torn, but it
was common knowledge that Lord and Lady Brooke hadn't exchanged a
single word in years, despite the fact that they'd recently been
making appearances at the same events.

At nearly the exact same time, Lord
Conyngham, rumored to be Grace's current lover, pushed through the
crowd across from Alex, ending up next to Grace.  The lady
took one, wild, look at her husband and immediately turned to the
arms of her lover, who turned her around so that their backs were
to Lord Brooke and Conyngham began to push his way back through the
crowd.

"Excuse us," Irene could hear Lord
Conyngham saying.  "Lady Brooke needs to use the retiring
room."  And then they were gone, disappeared into the crowd,
leaving Alex looking after them and everyone else looking at
him.