Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1)

"I'm surprised you're in London, actually, although I'm glad to see you," said Edwin to Wesley. "But I thought you would be out at Hammersby." Hammersby was Wesley's main estate now, the seat of his earldom and where the rest of his family spent most of their time.

Wesley shuddered. "I was there long enough to get things in order, but believe me, an escape back to London was necessary."

"Your mother?" Edwin guessed, thinking that Lady Spencer had probably taken immediate advantage of her son's presence to begin encouraging him to do his duty as Earl - which to a mother's mind always involved marriage.

"Shockingly no," Wesley said. "Mother is in Bath with my father's, well I suppose she’s my ward now. My brothers on the other hand are both at Hammersby and they are pestering the daylights out of me. Matthew wants me to buy him a commiss

ion, he's gone completely army mad, and Vincent wants me to send him to some school in Italy where he can study art of all things." Wesley tossed back the rest of his port in exasperation as both Hugh and Edwin chuckled and Edwin refilled the glass. "Of course Father had turned them down and Mother is completely against Matthew going into the army. Vincent claims she was coming around on his desire to travel, if not his choice of studies. But they want me to give them permission and funds to pursue their 'dreams' while she's away dealing with Cynthia, leaving me to face the music when she finally returns and finds out what I've done."

Both Hugh and Edwin burst out laughing at the look of resigned consternation on Wesley's face. They knew that he would do exactly that in the end, and his brothers probably did too. Considering that he had traveled his own path, managing to travel as he pleased through his own ingenuity and in defiance of his father's wishes, he would not stifle his brothers now that they were of a similar age as to when he'd set off. But he obviously didn't want to be left alone to deal with his mother's recriminations either.

"Cynthia's your ward?" Hugh asked.

"Yes, I haven't actually met her yet. Mother took her to Bath to slowly introduce her into Society." He hesitated. "Matthew said that she's very pretty but a little wild... apparently Mother thought she might do better away from the influence of my brothers and in the company of other young ladies."

"I can only imagine what trouble your brothers might have encouraged her to get into," said Edwin, grinning. "Can you remember how often we talked Eleanor into doing things that we were too scared to?"

Hugh laughed. "Like the time she stole the chocolate tarts that we were supposed to have for dessert that night? She would have gotten away with it too if she hadn't gone back for seconds."

"Which she only did because Edwin wanted another one," Wesley teased, a smile creeping over his face as they fell into reminiscing rather than talking about his current difficulties.

"And she never told on us either," Edwin said shaking his head, thinking ruefully about Eleanor's somewhat misplaced loyalties towards the three of them when they were younger. She'd always been tagging along behind them wanting to join in with whatever they were doing. Perhaps Wesley's ward was experiencing something similar with his brothers. "How old is your ward?"

"Cynthia? Ah..."

"He doesn't know!" Hugh chortled. "What a terrible guardian you are!"

"I've had a rather lot on my mind," Wesley said in exasperation. "My mother mentioned it to me but there have been more pressing matters to remember than some schoolgirl chit's age. She's close to coming out."

"So she must be nearing seventeen or eighteen," mused Hugh. "I wonder if your mother wasn't worried about a completely different kind of trouble from your brothers. Matthew's what, twenty two? And Vincent is nineteen? And Matthew said she was pretty."

Wesley frowned, considering, and Edwin felt a little pang for his friend. Two years ago Wesley would have found that kind of situation to be something of a joke, he would have preferred to think that his brothers were enamored rather than just leading a young miss into trouble and would have been the first to place wagers on which of his brothers would steal a kiss from the chit first, or if his mother would be a stalwart enough chaperon to keep them at bay. Either the responsibilities of his position or lessons learned when he traveled had obviously steadied him and given him a more serious outlook on life; he was obviously taking the responsibility of a ward more seriously than Edwin would have guessed. He and Hugh exchanged glances, but Hugh just shrugged and smiled a little, as if to say that this new more pensive side of Wesley was something he'd already become acquainted with and was no longer unexpected to him.

"I suppose I'll have to check into that too," Wesley muttered. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

Out of the three of them, Edwin knew that Wesley had been the least prepared to take up the reigns of the Earldom. Hugh's father had begun handing over certain responsibilities to Hugh when he was only twenty four, making sure that he was familiar with every inch of the estate and the duties that came with it. Because Edwin's parents abhorred the city, his father had begun sending Edwin in to take care of business as soon as it became feasible, knowing that Edwin rather enjoyed time in London. In contrast, Wesley's father had been a rather overbearing man who had difficulty giving up any kind of control, basically demanding that Wesley learn the knowledge without every taking an actual hand in running things. For someone of Wesley's active nature that had been paramount to torture and he'd left rather than stayed and learn under his father's looming tutelage.

"Your mother seems to have it well enough in hand, if she's taken the chit to Bath," Edwin said consolingly. "And it might not be the case anyhow."

"I hope not. Matthew didn't seem as though he was pining for her and neither did Vincent." Wesley mused a bit more and then relaxed, his familiar grin spreading across his face as he looked back at Edwin. "Enough about me. How's married life? I have to admit, I always thought Hugh would be wearing the ball and chain before either of us."

Hugh sputtered a little and shot Wesley a look, but there wasn't much he could say in his defense. He had been the first of them to start noticing girls as something more than a nuisance and he'd certainly been the most romantically inclined. Neither Edwin nor Wesley had ever been inclined to remember things like a girl's birthday or her favorite color, and although they'd certainly used flowers and such as gifts neither had taken any particular notice of what kind or color of flowers they were sending. In fact the only woman that Edwin had ever paid such attention to was Eleanor and that was because... well because she was Eleanor. She'd always been a breed apart to him.

"Ha, look at that smile," laughed Wesley and Edwin started a bit with surprise, realizing that he hadn't actually answered his friend. "You look like a cat that got into the cream."

"No details please," muttered Hugh. Lounging in the armchair like a blonde Adonis, nothing in his manner gave away any discomfort that they were discussing his sister and Edwin's relations with her, but that didn't mean that he would remain so amiable if Edwin started spouting off things he didn't want to hear.

"Well then that should answer your question," Edwin retorted. "Married life is quite agreeing with me at the moment, although at first I'd had my doubts."

"Hugh said Eleanor wasn't exactly thrilled with the arrangements at the beginning." Wesley chuckled, but his tone was questioning. As it should be, they'd all known Eleanor long enough to know that she didn't like anyone arranging her life.

"I think she's settled down now," said Edwin. He grinned suddenly. "A few spankings and a trip to Paris did wonders for her attitude. We had a marvelous time. I think she's realized that being married to me isn't so bad after all." Although he hadn't quite meant to his voice took on a rather salacious and masculinely smug tone that any other rake would recognize, much less his friends.

“You spank her?”

“Of course,” said Edwin. “I had to birch her before we left for Paris… she held a dinner and purposefully chose a menu that practically ensured I didn’t want to eat a bite of it.”

Wesley burst out laughing. “God, who would have thought she’d do something like that? Ingenious, although I can barely imagine Nell doing such a thing. I’m sorry I missed that.”