Leaving the gallery quietly, Wesley asked Hugh why the corner.
"More embarrassing. He'll keep here there until at least one person comes into the room and sees her there."
"Do you think we could go?" asked Edwin, feeling desirous of seeing Eleanor's beaten buttocks closer.
Hugh thought about it and then shook his head. "He'll know I brought you there for the purpose of seeing her and I don't think he'd approve. It's one thing if one of the maid sees her, another thing if it's a young man of her station."
Nodding his head in understanding, Edwin hastily made his excuses and left to go into town, feeling the insistent desire to find a willing woman and sink into her as soon as possible. Wesley left with him.
Chapter 1
One year later Edwin saw a very different Eleanor at her come-out ball than he had before that fateful day when he'd witnessed her birching, in fact rather different from that week that he’d spent with her family in Brighton. She looked every inch the presentable young lady, demure and well-mannered, although Hugh said that she occasionally still received a spanking for minor infractions. There seemed to be a spark in her pretty sapphire eyes though, as she surveyed the young men of the ballroom like a huntress searching for her prey. Edwin found himself intrigued, and not just because of the memory of her rosy, beaten buttocks, although of course that was part of it.
Since that time he'd found one or two ladies that were intrigued by having a spanking to their bare bottoms, and he'd found that it had aroused him more than ever before. Once he'd caught one of his maids stealing from him and instead of turning her out he'd let her stay on after receiving a personal birching from him. The discipline had aroused both of them so much that he'd broken one of his cardinal rules and taken her right then and there. Normally he left the staff alone, having learned his lesson from the first time he'd made one of the maids his mistresses and the disruption it had caused in the household. Collette wasn't his mistress though, there had been that one time and she had gone on to be married about a year later to a footman in a neighboring household. Edwin rather envied the lucky man. Still, neither Collette nor any of the other women had quite satisfied the need that had risen in him that first day when he’d witness Eleanor’s birching. He sometimes wondered if it was because it was the first time he’d seen such a thing or if it had been Eleanor herself.
Lately his own thoughts had turned to marriage. His parents were ensconced firmly in the countryside, but that didn't stop his mother from sending him constant letters inquiring as to the steps he was taking to find a wife. After all, he was her only child and if something were to happen to him then the title would go to a distant cousin. The last few letters his mother had sent had hinted at coming to London herself to offer her assistance. Considering how much either of his parents hated to leave the country, he didn't want her to feel as though that was necessary.
Now, tonight at this ball, he realized what he had been waiting for this past year. The milk and water misses held no allure for him, despite the fact that many of them were quite beautiful, they all bored him. He wanted a different kind of marriage. Not one where with he would have to respectfully knock on her door, request admittance, and then make boring, gentle love to, but a wife that had spirit, sensuality, passion, and preferably the occasional need to be disciplined. A wife like Collette's lucky husband had. Eleanor would make a splendid future Countess; truthfully, she'd been hovering in the back of his mind constantly ever since he'd seen her birched. Of course, her late debut had caused a bit of gossip but he didn't care about that.
Although they’d only spent a week together during the previous year, and he had seen for himself what sharp-tongued brat Eleanor had turned into during that time, he also knew what she had been like before she turned spoiled. He knew that she had once followed Hugh, Wesley and himself around practically begging for attention, trailing her doll Rose along with her everywhere she went. He knew that she'd worn pink for two years straight and refused to put on a dress in any other color. He remembered when she'd found some neighbors boys bullying one of the village girls and had chased them off before offering up her doll, Rose, for the little girl to play with. At that point he'd kept a sharp eye out in case one of the boys had wanted to retaliate against Eleanor, but they’d had the wits enough to realize that it was best to leave the eight year old and her new six year old friend alone. There was still that sweet, generous spirit inside of her, he believed, it was just buried deep down under the desire for silks, jewels and worshipful male attention.
Deciding that he might as well get to know this new Eleanor so that he could make an informed decision, Edwin crossed to her side of the room. Her debut dress was white, of course, and it looked quite well with her complexion, emphasizing the pink of her cheeks and lips, the bright gold of her hair and her shining blue eyes.
"Lady Harrington," he greeted her mother with a slight bow, smiling his most charming smile. "Lady Eleanor."
"Lord Hyde, you rogue," Lady Harrington said with a smile. "You've been staring at my Eleanor here for the past fifteen minutes and you're only just now coming to talk?" Edwin winked at her teasing.
"I was too arrested by the sight of her beauty," he said smoothly, "and have only just now found my tongue again. You are looking particularly lovely tonight Lady Eleanor." The neckline of her gown was low but not immodest, in fact it was almost demure compared to some of the gowns other women in the room were wearing. He was quite sure that he had seen Eleanor eying them enviously. Obviously still wanting things that her father said she couldn't have.
"Since you have found your tongue again, one would think that you would use it for something other than the usual banal compliments," Eleanor said a little waspishly. He hid a smile. Not because he wasn't offended at her brash remark, but because it was obvious she still had some of her spirit and that a husband would have ample opportunity to discipline her if she couldn't get her own tongue under control.
"Eleanor!" said her mother in scandalized tones, fanning herself vigorously as if feeling faint. "You are being quite rude. Please do forgive her, my Lord." She fluttered her eyes at him. If this was an example of how Lady Harrington reproached her willful daughter, Edwin could well understand how Eleanor had become so spoiled under her care.
The lady's mouth puckered mulishly, almost pouting in a way that made him want to bend his head down and kiss her, despite the ire in her eyes. "It's just Edwin, mother. We've known him forever." As if that excused her rude behavior.
Smiling genially at Lady Harrington, Edwin turned a more rakish look on Eleanor. One that she wouldn't have seen on his face before, because he'd never turned his flirtatious charm on his friend's sister. Looking at her through half-lidded eyes, he leaned in closer and his smiled broadened as she inhaled sharply, looking up at him in consternation.
In truth, Eleanor was quite intimidated by Lord Hyde, which is why she had sharpened her tongue on him, feeling as if she had something to prove. He was very tall, very muscular and very good looking, and having him in such close proximity to her, with her mother teasing him about staring at her, had pushed aside all the society masks she'd created since her father had taken a closer interest in her behavior. The number of spankings and birchings had subsided as she'd started bowing to her father's demands and wishes, no matter how much she chafed over his unfair rules. After all, look at the number of young debutantes here with much more bosom showing than herself, in finer fabrics and with better jewelry! This was her coming out ball and she should have shone; instead she was stuck in a dress that catered to her father's stupid and old-fashioned ideals.
Over the past year she'd learned to keep her thoughts to herself, to pretend to be acquiescent with her father's demands, and to show herself as the perfect little society miss. It was all part of her plan to remove herself from her father's strict household as soon as possible, once she was a wife she could do as she pleased, buy all the clothes and fripperies that she wanted, and her husband would shower her with expensive jewelry. Eleanor knew exactly what she wanted in a husband - a man who loved her to distraction.
She'd seen the way her parents' marriage worked; her mother loved her father unconditionally and bowed to his every wish. They’d spent the last 6 years in Brighton and she’d never managed to forget the day when she’d overheard her mother asking her husband if he was sure he didn’t want her and Eleanor to stay in London with him and he’d responded “For God’s sake, Penelope, go to Brighton! If you aren’t there by next week I’ll make sure you regret it!”
And they’d spent the last six years there, rarely going into London for more than a weekend and her father had rarely come to visit them for more than a few weeks. Although he did make the trip quite often, he spent the majority of his time in London with Hugh. Eleanor had felt more than a little neglected, not to mention outraged on the part of her mother, and she’d vowed that such a thing would never happen to her.
Although she felt sure that her father cared about her mother, he obviously didn’t care enough and he didn’t love her enough to keep her with him, no matter how much Lady Harrington missed him. Eleanor would not fall in love. The person who was not in love had the power and that's what Eleanor wanted, a comfortable life with a man who would worship her and lavish gifts upon her.
Already she'd flirted with several young men who would do quite nicely. Lord Kilcairn had practically tripped over himself to be the first to secure a dance with her, the second son of the Marquess of Salisbury had begged to fetch her a lemonade and the young Earl of Cawdor had promised to talk to his aunt, Lady Cowper, about securing her permission to waltz. There were plenty of other men in the room looking at her with admiring eyes that she hadn't even been introduced to to yet, although she knew she would be soon. Perhaps she'd even let a few of them take her out on the terrace and kiss her. After all, her debut had come after most of her friends' and so she had some catching up to do - all of them had been kissed at least once.
Lord Hyde was certainly not on her list of possible husbands. He was too large, too intimidating, too disturbing. The way he looked at her made her feel like he was undressing her with those unfathomable dark eyes; they were admiring of her but there was nothing puppy-like about it. Tonight he was looking particularly fine in a light grey coat that set off his dark hair and eyes and emphasized his shoulders, breeches that molded themselves to his muscular legs, and a charcoal waistcoat that hugged his masculine figure. The slightly amused and yet somehow intense expression on his face did nothing to soothe her anxiety around him; the roguish smile that he gave her only affirmed her wariness of him, but it also made her insides tighten in the most inexplicable way.
"I could never deny a request from you, Lady Harrington," he said, in that smooth, deep voice of his. Shivers ran up her spine and she could feel gooseflesh breaking out all over her body. She didn't remember him ever having quite this effect on her before. It was incredibly unnerving. Had he ever looked at her quite that way before? "However, I do believe that apologies are more appreciated coming from the source of the offense."
He looked at her expectantly.
A sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue when she saw her father approaching out of the corner of her eye. Immediately she bowed her head, knowing that her mother wouldn't say anything to her father about her misbehavior if only she could apologize and change the topic before he came within earshot.
"Please forgive me, my lord," she said in a mild, soft tone, giving a small curtsy. "I'm afraid that I am overly excited by the importance of this evening and temporarily lost my manners."