Punishing His Ward (17 page)

It was moments like that which should
have made Irene feel justified in her past words to Lady Grace.
 Seeing the utter blankness on Alex's face, she knew that he
was covering some kind of very deep emotion as he watched his wife
walk away in the arms of another man.  She should have wanted
to say something even worse to the woman.  But having seen
Lady Grace so blatantly flirting with Hugh and then paling at the
sight of her own husband, to the point where she'd looked like a
ghost, Irene suddenly felt cast adrift.

What if, with her confused feelings for
her husband, their positions had been reversed and she'd had words
about Lady Grace’s friendship with Hugh and Grace had responded the
same way Irene had? What must that have been like for Lady Grace,
as a new bride? And now, to be attacking Grace – despite any real
provocation, just the anger that Irene hadn’t been able to control…
 She might not approve of the Lady's behavior with Alex, but
regret and shame washed over Irene for her own.  

"Alex, I was thinking of going to
White's after dropping Irene off at home.  She's got a bit of
a megrim."  Hugh's hand tightened on Irene's arm, as if
warning her not to contradict him.  Not that such a gesture
was necessary; it was as if he'd read her mind.  She truly
didn't want to be here and her head actually was starting to pound
a bit.  "Would you like to join me?"

For a long moment, Alex just stood
there, staring blankly at Hugh, and then he shook himself.
 "Yes.  Thank you.  The Duchess surely won't miss
us, it's such a crush here."

Hardly satisfied with the lack of
dramatic revelations or declarations, the lords and ladies around
them turned away, realizing that they weren't going to get anymore
meat for gossip fodder.  Although what they'd witnessed would
cause enough of a stir.  Irene just prayed that no one had
seen exactly how Lady Grace's dress had been torn.

Once again, as if sensing her thoughts,
Hugh leaned in to whisper in her ear.  "Lady Wife, I will deal
with you tomorrow.  Tonight you will think about what you've
done and why you've earned yourself a punishment."

Irene just nodded, wilting a bit
against him.  She didn't argue, because, after all, what could
she truly say in her defense?

******

Climbing the stairs to his bedroom,
Hugh sighed.  It had been a long night.  At the club,
after they’d left the Duchess of Richmond’s ball, Alex had quietly
gotten very, very drunk until Hugh eventually poured him back into
the carriage and took him home.  Then Alex’s butler had taken
over responsibility for him.  Hugh highly doubted the man
would remember much of the evening, after the instigating
incident.

Hugh didn’t dislike Grace, although he
sometimes found her to be rather sharp and self-centered, but he
didn’t at all like what she did to Alex.  It hadn’t even
occurred to him that her behavior might grate on Irene, although
Edwin had said something about the two ladies not getting along.
 After so many years of spending time with Grace and Eleanor,
he hadn’t even thought about Grace’s normal flirtatiousness until
Irene had actually lunged at her.

A little smile played on his face
before it slipped away.  As gratifying as his wife’s jealousy
might be, considering that just a few weeks ago she’d thrown
herself at Alex, he couldn’t allow her behavior to go
unpunished.  It seemed that his love’s impulses were bound to
continue to get her into trouble. 

If he hadn’t caught her up, who knew
what she might have done to Grace in the middle of the most
socially important ball of the Season?  The resulting scandal
would have been almost impossible to recover from, for both of
them.

But at least he wouldn't have to punish
her this evening.  He was too tired.  Even if the idea
did makes his groin stir with interest.  And it would give her
time to think through her actions; and stopping to think was
definitely something his wife needed to work on. While she wasn’t
quite the calm, sedate bride he’d initially thought he was
marrying, he did love his wife, but he was learning more and more
that she was ruled by her impulses when her emotions ran high.
Emotions that she had learned to pent up under the disapproval of
her mother; and while he was happy that she didn’t feel the same
need to hide them from him, she obviously had very little practice
controlling them. That may be fine in the country, but not here in
town where the wrong move could end up having repercussions that
spanned far beyond one person.

Cutler helped him undress before he
donned his dressing gown and went into the darkened bedroom. There
was a single candle lit next to the bed, on his side, casting only
the dimmest light throughout the room. Irene’s red hair glinted in
the candlelight, spread out across the pillow, and despite his
exhaustion, Hugh felt his groin stir with interest again. Coming
closer, he could see her fist balled up under her chin and the
slight puffiness to her eyes that told him she’d been crying before
she’d fallen asleep.

He hated to know that she’d been
weeping, but he also hoped it had taught her a lesson.

Ignoring the hardening state of his
cock, Hugh let his dressing gown fall to the floor and crawled in
beside his wife. As usual, she was wearing her night rail. Sighing,
he tugged it up to her hips so that he could cradle the length of
his cock between her bottom cheeks, pulling her tightly against his
groin. It was one of his favorite ways to sleep. She only stirred
slightly as he turned back to blow out the candle, before wrapping
her in his arms. Despite his aching arousal, he fell asleep almost
immediately.

******

Surely this was torture.

Sitting across the breakfast table from
her husband, Irene couldn’t concentrate at all. She’d been picking
at the plate of fruit, which was all she’d thought she could
stomach, while Hugh read the newspaper and drank his coffee. Their
normal everyday routine, but today wasn’t a normal day was it? No,
she knew that she was getting a spanking today.

And making her wait for it was just
cruel.

She’d woken late and alone, although it
had been obvious from the impression on the pillow beside hers and
the rumpling of the sheets that Hugh had crawled into bed with her
at some point during the night. The fact that he had left without
waking her wasn’t, by itself, unusual but it still caused her
stomach to stir with anxiety. When she’d come down to the breakfast
table, she’d found him already there and waiting for her, as he
always did when she didn’t wake up next to him.

But she’d found that her appetite had
deserted her, wondering whether or not he was going to spank her
immediately after breakfast. If he was going to tell her when he
was going to do it. She didn’t think she could wait until this
evening, before bed. Dragging out the torment throughout the entire
day would just be too much.

Looking over at the doorway, where a
footman was posted, Irene gave him a discreet little wave of
dismissal. Surprised, but obviously not going to argue, the man
exited the room. Hearing the door close, Hugh looked up from his
paper.

“Hugh,” she said, as he sat up
straight, frowning at the door the footman had just disappeared
through.

“Yes sweetheart?”

Irene took a deep breath, gathering her
courage. It was better to ask and find out now than to sit in
worried anxiety. The words came out in a rush. “When are you going
to spank me?”

Well that got his attention. Hugh’s
head whipped around to face her, his blue eyes boring into hers.
When he looked like that she couldn’t help but feel even more
nervous; he was normally so cheerful, always smiling with his eyes
if not his mouth, but right now he looked every inch the
disciplinarian. She squirmed under his focused attention, even
though she tried to keep still.

Folding the newspaper, Hugh put it down
next to his coffee as he considered her words. 

“Do you want me to spank
you?”

“No… I mean… no… but if you’re going to
I want to know when you’re going to do it.”  Irene wrung her
hands in her lap.  For a moment she’d actually thought she was
going to say ‘yes,’ just because she was overwhelmed by guilt over
her behavior last night.  Even though she didn’t want the
spanking, she somehow thought she’d feel better for being
punished.  Transgression, punishment, and then everything was
forgiven.  So much less demoralizing then the way her mother
would pick at her for weeks on end when she’d done something
wrong. 

“Oh, I’m absolutely going
to spank you, Irene.  I realized, looking back, that Grace can
be overly familiar with me on occasion and how that may have looked
to you.  But that doesn’t excuse your own behavior.  No
matter the provocation, attacking her was absolutely
unwarranted.”

Irene hung her head, feeling absolutely
abysmal.  “I know Hugh.  I’m sorry.”

“I’m aware that there is some tension
between the two of you, but you’re going to have to learn how to
deal civilly with her.  She’s one of Eleanor’s best friends as
well as being a friend of the family, even if my parents are
disappointed in her current behavior.  And if Alex reconciles
with her, you’re going to be seeing her even more often.  The
two of you need to at least be able to have a conversation
together, and that relies as much on you as it does on
her.”

As galling as it was to admit it, Irene
knew that was true.  She didn’t have to let Lady Grace get
under her skin.  Before finally falling asleep last night,
she’d thought of a hundred different ways she could have handled
herself.  All of which would have made her look better and
Lady Grace look worse.

Instead, she’d just
reacted without thinking and had made herself look very bad
indeed.  She really hadn’t meant to tear Lady Grace’s
dress.  And she’d also realized that, in some ways, her past
behavior had set her up for the way Lady Grace had flirted with
Hugh last night.  After all, Irene had done the exact same
thing to Alex – even if he hadn’t noticed – and then scoffed when
Lady Grace had done the right thing and quietly pulled her aside,
in private where she wouldn’t be embarrassed, to request that she
desist.  If Irene had handled her own situation with half the
same amount of decorum she wouldn’t be in the spot she was in
now.

She could feel her husband’s eyes on
her studying her. “Alright Irene. I think you’ll feel better if we
get it over with sooner rather than later. Let’s go to my
study.”

Following Hugh along the halls of their
home, to his private area, Irene was surprised at the cessation of
anxiety that she felt.  She was still nervous, it was true,
but there was something reassuring about her husband’s
authoritative demeanor and care of her.  This might not be the
most convenient time for Hugh to punish her, but he’d seen how much
the anticipation was upsetting her and he was going to take care of
it.  Of course, she’d rather not be punished at all… but was
that true either?  Did she want to walk around with this sick
feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about her
behavior and the possible ramifications?

When they reached his study, Hugh
stepped around behind his desk to a large cabinet he kept back
there, while Irene waited nervously on the other side, wringing her
hands in front of her.  She eyed the chair that she’d been
bent over the last time, knowing that she was going to be in the
exact same position in just a moment.  But for some reason,
now that she was here, all she wanted to do was put off the
punishment for as long as possible.

Would her emotions ever cease to
contradict each other?

Hugh pulled something from the cabinet
and shut it, turning so that she could see what he had in his
hands.  It was a long, stiffened piece of leather, almost two
feet long and Irene paled as she looked at it.

“This is called a tawse,
sweetheart.  It’s going to sting, but it’s not going to mark
you up or seriously harm you.  I think what you’ve done merits
more than just a regular spanking.  And I want
you
to start thinking
before you act.  It seems to be an ongoing problem for
you.”

“Yes Hugh,” she whispered, staring at
the instrument of torture.  Remembering that Flora had said a
caning was the worst punishment, worse than any of the
others.  Awful that her maid had known such things, but now
Irene was grateful to know that Hugh wasn’t using the worst of such
instruments on her.  Especially grateful that Flora was no
longer in her mother’s house where such punishments were apparently
commonplace.  

Something in Hugh's face softened as he
looked at her trembling form, although he still looked very severe.
 "It will hurt sweetheart, and you won't like it, but I
promise it won't truly harm you."

Irene nodded, unable to voice anything
further.  It felt like her throat was closing up.  And at
the same time, she wasn't truly afraid that Hugh would hurt her, it
was just the fear of the unknown.  What would it feel like?
 How much would it hurt in comparison to a spanking?
 

"Bend over the chair and pull up your
skirts," Hugh said, nodding at the chair in question.  Not
that she needed it; Irene remembered her last encounter with the
chair quite vividly.  At least this time there was no one
around to witness her punishment.