Punishing His Ward (32 page)

He looked forward to after their
wedding, when he could keep her beside him in bed, within easy
reach whenever he wished. No wonder his friends preferred to share
a room with their wives. Wesley would be following their
example.

Eleanor's tapping fingers couldn't
completely distract her from the nausea that had been threatening
all morning.  She felt distinctly green.  Even the tea
that the Countess of Spencer had given her wasn't helping very
much.  The Countess' sharp eyes had seen more than Eleanor
would have wanted; she only hoped that the Countess didn't share
her suspicions with Eleanor's husband.

Although Edwin had been most attentive
lately, Eleanor still hadn't told him of her condition.  Every
day it became a little harder to admit it, as if by waiting she was
risking more, although eventually she knew it would become obvious
even if she said nothing.  Especially since they shared the
same bed every night and his passion for her hadn't diminished.
 The small changes in her body were becoming more and more
noticeable, and while they could be hidden by clothes, there was no
way to hide them from his hands or his eyes when they were in their
marital bed. 

"I think Wesley's done something to
Cynthia," Edwin murmured into her ear, jerking her out of her
thoughts.  Eleanor blinked and refocused.  She had been
invited over for tea with Cynthia and the Countess, and Edwin had
insisted on accompanying her.  She was rather grateful for his
presence, because she was having trouble concentrating and he'd
been remarkably adept at dropping hints along the conversation to
help her. Still, it had been rather unexpected, and it meant that
Wesley had joined them as well.

Looking over at Wesley, she couldn't
imagine what Edwin was referring to and she looked up at her
husband, raising a questioning eyebrow. 

He nodded at Wesley, and then at
Cynthia.  Wesley was standing next to the mantle, one elbow
casually resting on its surface, watching his bride who had been
wandering around the room and recently come to a stop beside the
window which looked out over the street.  The Countess had
been in and out of the room as various details for the upcoming
wedding required her attention, and was currently speaking with the
housekeeper about the menu.  

Eleanor realized that the entirety of
the noise level in the room was that conversation; neither Wesley
nor Cynthia had said a word in ages. Besides which, they’d barely
seemed to interact at all. Not at all what she might have expected
between an affianced couple, no matter what Cynthia had told her
about Wesley’s current hands-off approach.

"He looks far too
satisfied, when just yesterday he was rather on edge, and
now
she
 looks anxious and she hasn't sat down once since we've
been here," Edwin said, sounding rather amused.  Eleanor found
it more worrying than amusing, although as she looked at Cynthia it
didn't seem as though the young woman was afraid of her
fiancé.

Just nervous. 

Which was odd enough, considering that
it was Cynthia and so far Eleanor hadn't seen anything that fazed
the young woman.  Not even being spanked.  So what had
Wesley done to her? Or, rather, what had Cynthia done and how had
Wesley reacted? Yesterday she hadn’t worried when Cynthia had said
she was going to do something to prod Wesley, now she wondered if
she should have questioned the other woman more closely.

Eleanor was going to have to get her
alone and ask. It would be impossible to do so today, she couldn’t
get Cynthia alone without being rude.  Perhaps after Irene
arrived; then Cynthia would have more than one well-disciplined
wife to speak with.  And Irene and Hugh seemed to have
resolved their differences, going by the letters Eleanor and Edwin
had received since arriving in Bath.  So perhaps Irene would
also have some advice.  Although neither she nor Eleanor
courted their husbands’ displeasure the way that Cynthia did with
Wesley.

She couldn’t imagine Irene deliberately
misbehaving. But at least she would be able to add another
perspective to the situation.

******

"Irene!"

"I'm coming," she called, hurrying down
the hall.   Hugh's demanding tones didn't cause quite the same
reaction as her mother's always had, but she still couldn't help
the little knot of anxiety that coiled in her stomach.

It disappeared the moment she reached
the top of the stairs and looked down to see him smiling up at her.
No matter his impatience, he didn’t scold or chide her the way her
mother would have if she’d been kept waiting.  He was
fashionably but comfortably dressed for traveling.  They were
going to be arriving in Bath a few days before the wedding so that
they could meet Wesley's fiancé and spend some time with Eleanor
and Edwin.  Irene was wildly curious about Miss Bryant, as
well as eager to see her sister-in-law again.

She was wearing her riding habit,
although she wouldn't be able to ride until they were out of
London.  But Hugh had promised her that once they reached the
country he would allow her to ride her horse rather than be stuck
in the carriage, even though it was rather out of the bounds of
propriety.  It was something her parents had never permitted
and she was extremely grateful that her husband wasn't so bound up
in the rules of Society as they were.

Indeed, marriage to Hugh had turned out
to be much more satisfying than she could have ever imagined.
 A thought which he confirmed when he caught her up in his
arms and gave her a very thorough kiss, ignoring the titters of the
staff in the hall.  When he released her, Irene was bright red
but beaming with happiness. 

Offering her his arm, he walked her out
to the carriage which was waiting for them. Seating herself facing
forward, she settled her skirts around her legs, already eager for
when she could quit the confines of the carriage.  She looked
at her husband in surprise when he climbed in after her, seating
himself across from her.

"Aren't you going to ride?" she asked,
curiously.

Hugh smiled at her, the sunlight
trickling in through the window and making his golden hair look
even brighter.  "Once you can, I will as well. Before that I
thought I might keep you company if you have no
objection."

“No objection at all,” she replied,
smiling brilliantly.

Love surged in her heart for her
caring, generous and all-too-wonderful husband.  Irene didn't
know how she'd gotten so lucky.  While Hugh might discipline
her when he thought she required it, he was also the most
thoughtful, giving man she'd ever met - and that included when
compared to Alex.  The way that Hugh had forgiven her
transgressions, the way he continued to care for her, the happiness
that he'd brought to her life on a daily basis, when she'd thought
she'd have to hoard and snatch small bits for herself... it was
more than she could have ever imagined or asked for.

Thank goodness she hadn't married Alex.
 While she loved her friend, she also knew that if Alex wanted
to ride, he would do so, even if Irene was stuck alone in a
carriage.  She had never expected to feel sorry for Lady
Grace, but right now she did.  How awful to be trapped in a
marriage with a man one didn't love when she obviously craved that;
Irene could no longer imagine it.  

And yet Alex was supposedly determined
to reconcile.  Irene no longer knew what might be best for the
estranged couple, but she could only wish that they found even a
fraction of the happiness that she had with Hugh.

Peters showed Alex into the drawing
room.  He looked around, noting the bright colors and feminine
touches that his own house lacked.  Compared to Grace's rooms,
his own residence was downright dismal and had been that way for as
long as he could remember.  

"May I say that it's good to see you
again, my Lord?"

"Thank you, Peters, it's good to see
you as well," Alex said.  The man hadn't changed much over the
years, and he was still one of the most trusted servants the Brooke
family had ever had.  Peters' father had served Alex's, his
grandfather, all the way back at least four generations.  He
was the only man Alex had trusted to send with Grace when she'd
left.  "Will her ladyship be down soon, do you
think?"

The butler hesitated.  "Lord
Conyngham has yet to depart the premises this morning, my Lord, but
Lady Brooke has summoned her maid and I believe they should be
coming down to breakfast shortly."

"Thank you, Peters."  Alex ignored
the disapproval in the other man's face, knowing that it was for
himself and not for his wife or her lover.

After all, Peters knew that it was his
fault.  It was Peters who had informed him that the rumors
surrounding Grace and her 'lovers' were untrue when she'd first
left him; she'd been having flirtations but she hadn’t betrayed
him.  And Alex, proud idiot that he was, had retaliated by
initiating his own flirtation.  But Grace had had no way of
knowing that it was only a flirtation, unlike him who had Peters to
inform him of the truth of the matter, that the rumors that he'd
acquired a mistress were false. It was only after she thought Alex
had taken a mistress that her lovers had become so in truth, and he
blamed his own prideful folly for that.

At first he'd been furious that she'd
taken the final step and retaliated by going through a veritable
gauntlet of women, rather than thinking through what she must have
been feeling.  Then he'd started hating himself for his
behavior, as he had never been one to enjoy multiple partners, and
he kept his affairs to one woman at a time, becoming more
circumspect and choosing the ones that would be discreet, that
wouldn't flaunt the affair in front of his wife. But the damage was
already done.  By the time he'd swallowed his pride and
recognized his own fault in their current situation, by the time
he’d finally tried to approach Grace again, she'd hated him and he
couldn't honestly blame her.

If only he hadn't let his pride and
temper get the best of him, if only he'd gone after her when she'd
first left, when she'd started her first flirtation... or even if
he hadn't compounded the problem by beginning his own.
 

The only thing he'd been
able to do for her was ensure that she maintained a place in
the
ton
 rather than being driven away from it completely. A
quiet word here, a word there, and only the highest sticklers
wouldn’t have anything to do with her. The others knew they would
court his displeasure by openly shunning her.  

And he kept her accounts at the various
shops open, so that she could buy whatever she needed.  At
least this way she remained in London rather than disappearing to
who knows where and with whom; she would never be driven to
desperate straights or end up relying on another man for her
livelihood.  He'd hoped that eventually her fury would cool,
that she might see how he was still providing for her, and she
might come back to him, be willing to talk about why she'd left him
in the first place, but she never had.

For a while he'd even forgone his
mistresses, although that hadn't seemed to help and after a year
he'd stopped denying himself when she obviously wasn't.  Even
though he never had to see her, he still heard about her lovers and
it grated. At least she only had one at a time and they always
lasted for a long period. Truthfully, Alex preferred it that way,
he didn’t like to think that she wouldn’t be constant once their
relationship was finally repaired.

At one point he'd thought
they might have a chance at something more than the usual
ton
 marriage.
 Their honeymoon had been blissful.  Grace had caught his
eye when he'd begun looking for a wife and the first few weeks
after their wedding had seemed to confirm his choice.  A large
factor of their marriage had been the business deal between himself
and her father, but he'd rather enjoyed Grace for herself and he'd
especially enjoyed her warmth and vibrancy, her openness.
 

Then, after they'd returned to London,
it was as if the sun had gone out and Grace's personality had
snapped shut.  He’d come home from his club one afternoon to
find her packed and ready to leave, when he’d tried to stop her
she’d railed nonsensically at him, something about both of them
being foolish, and then she'd gone.

Everything had disintigrated rather
rapidly, leaving Alex feeling as though she'd taken all the light
in the world with her.  And once his pride and anger had worn
down, months later and far too late, he'd realized he'd behaved
remarkably stupidly. 

But he was determined to change that
now.  He wanted his wife back and he was tired of waiting.
 It was time to stand up and fight for what was
his.

******

The two men faced off,
Conyngham rather warily.  After all, he wasn't quite sure what
to expect; Lord Brooke wasn't behaving the way most husbands of
the
ton
did,
whether or not they were accommodating.  An accommodating one
would have left as soon as he knew his wife was entertaining, to
continue the illusion that he was unaware she was doing any such
thing.  An unaccommodating one would already be either
brandishing pistols or calling for them.