Punishing His Ward (Domestic Discipline 3)

It wasn't right that a man should look so good first thing in the morning. So rakish. And yet he was such a stuffy prig with her.

"Good morning," she said, determined to be amiable. It was too early to try for a spanking, even if her bottom was feeling much recovered. Besides, he might decide on some other punishment, like retracting permission to have tea with Eleanor that afternoon. And Cynthia very much wanted to have tea with the friendly woman. Especially since Eleanor seemed to know the Earl very well and he'd seemed to act quite differentl

y around her and her husband, Lord Hyde. She found herself highly curious about the Earl, who seemed to be a mass of contradictions.

His brothers had both described him with the awe and reverence of young men looking up to an older brother of almost heroic proportions. Not only had he thwarted their father’s orders, he'd made himself rich on his own merit, he was an acknowledged Corinthian, and a rakish seducer of ladies. Towards his mother he'd behaved like the perfect gentleman, as well as being almost protective. Eleanor and Edwin had brought out what seemed like a more playful side. And apparently all Cynthia engendered was stuffy disapproval.

To her annoyance, he apparently considered the morning civilities over with, and he seated himself back beside her and picked up his newspaper again, just as one of the footmen came in with her breakfast of sausages, eggs and fruit. Scowling at the black and white print, Cynthia wondered if she dared interrupt his reading.

Deciding she'd rather go to tea with Eleanor than prick Lord Stuffed-Shirt, she sat in uncharacteristic silence, picking at her food and dreaming about the upcoming Assembly on Thursday. It would be an opportunity to observe the Earl in a new setting, one with flirtatious ladies. Would he act differently there? She wondered if Mr. Carter would be there... she'd certainly enjoy learning a bit more about men and women. Perhaps, if they found a sufficiently private space, she would allow him to touch him between her legs.

Her mind drifted, fantasizing about the possibilities. Maybe not with Mr. Carter... maybe with a taller, stronger, more forceful man. What would it be like if the Earl caught her and spanked her again? And then maybe his fingers would drift down...

******

Practically cowering behind his newspaper, Wesley gritted his teeth as his ward let out a soft sigh that was completely inappropriate to the breakfast table. He hadn't been able to concentrate on the words in front of him since the moment that she'd joined him. A habitually early riser, despite the fact that he was often up into the later hours of the night, he'd been warned that Miss Bryant often took her breakfast in the dining room rather than in her own room. For some reason he hadn't been able to resist the temptation of planting himself in a seat, long after he'd finished his meal.

It was almost worth it.

Cynthia was softer in the morning, her sensuality transformed from a blatant siren into something more subtle, more gently appealing. He could all too easily imagine her rising, rumpled and warm, from her sheets. Hell, he could all too easily imagine her all rumpled and warm between his sheets. She'd be perfect mistress material if she wasn't both an innocent and his ward.

Another soft sigh of pleasure had him gritting his teeth and he peeked over the top edge of his newspaper to find out what in the bloody hell the woman was making those sounds for.

Strawberries. She had a ripe, red strawberry pressed to her lips, staining the pink bow a darker red and making his cock quite suddenly stand to attention as her tongue flicked out to capture some of the juices that were spilling over her pouting lower lip. The almost dreamy look on her face, the warm flush in her cheeks, and the way her soft pink day dress clung to her ample curves only exacerbated his situation.

"What do you like to do?" he asked, putting the newspaper down almost violently on the table. Cynthia jumped, eyeing him warily as she popped the rest of the strawberry between those incredibly luscious lips.

"Excuse me?" she asked, once she had swallowed. Her amber eyes were glowing faintly in the sunlight that was trickling in through the windows, giving them an almost golden cast. "What do you mean?"

"What do you like to do?" he repeated, waving his hand through the air expansively. "Ride? Watercolors? Gardens?" The sooner he could get her married off to an appropriate gentleman and take temptation away from under his roof, so that he could return to his usual pursuits of business, his friendships and seducing socially acceptable ladies - the bored matrons of the ton, the better. He could find out some of Cynthia's interests, look over the field of gentleman available in Bath at the Assembly on Thursday and find her an amenable husband.

Perhaps amenable enough that once she'd popped out an heir or two, she'd be yet another bored matron that he could seduce.

Strangely, the idea didn't appeal as much as it had the day before, but he attributed the restlessness that he felt to impatience. After all, what man wanted to wait a few years to realize a fantasy? Even a fantasy that had been in existence for only a few days?

"I like to ride," she said, looking at him as though he was an animal at the zoo whose behavior she was trying to discern. He supposed he had spoken a little abruptly. "And I'm fond of the pianoforte. But I rather hate musicales. It's a tragedy how many of the ton have no talent, and most of them don't seem to realize it." He couldn't gainsay her on that, since he religiously avoided all musicales, which were little more than events designed to show off young ladies’ in the Marriage Mart’s musical attributes. For someone who truly appreciated music, those evenings were often torturous.

"Theater? Opera?"

"I've never been," she replied, rather wistfully.

That seemed almost a crime. A woman as stunning as Cynthia deserved to be one of the adornments in an opera box; he could imagine her in a low cut evening dress, dripping sparkling jewels - yellow topaz to bring out the gold in her eyes, breathlessly listening to a passionate aria. He'd have to see which of the men currently in Bath enjoyed such outings, there must be some, although the vast majority of that kind would be in London for the end of the current Season.

For a moment he wondered why his mother hadn't brought Cynthia to London, instead of Bath, and then he remembered the way in which he'd met Cynthia and how his mother had looked when he'd first arrived. No, Cynthia was far too wild for his mother to adequately deal with in a city like London when it was filled with all sorts of unsavory gentlemen who would be only too pleased with Cynthia's looks and lack of decorum. If she'd appeared in some ballroom, without him knowing who she was, the saints only knew what his reaction would have been.

"Very good," he said, distractedly. Cynthia gave him another confused look as he stood and left the table, but he didn't notice. He was too busy concentrating on running from temptation and the strange urge to stay and enjoy her company. It was time to retreat.

******

The house that Lord and Lady Hyde in was in an equally fashionable part of Bath as the Countess' residence, although the decor showed it to be a house to let, unlike the Countess' house which was obviously a home. Still, it was quite beautiful and Cynthia found herself very quickly relaxed as she chatted with Eleanor, who seemed to be just as interested in Cynthia as Cynthia was in her. Today the blonde was dressed quite fashionably in a blue and cream damask that brought out the bright color of her eyes and enhanced the golden blonde of her hair, the stylish cut making the most of her rather striking figure.

In contrast, Cynthia was wearing a dark pink dress that was fashionably cut, but much less modestly than Lady Hyde's. She'd managed to get her own way on most of her dresses when she and the Countess had visited the modiste, and it wasn't until she sat next to Eleanor that she felt tawdry in comparison. But Eleanor didn't seem to think so, she barely paid attention to what Cynthia was wearing, she was much more interested in questioning her about Lord Spencer and the state of the household.

"He's not generally so stuffy," she assured Cynthia, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "It was quite entertaining seeing him performing as a proper gentleman yesterday. I've never seen him act quite like that before."

"I think it's me," Cynthia said truthfully. "He seemed very different from when he was speaking with just you and Lord Hyde... I mean..." Her cheeks flushed darkly to match her dress as she realized what she had just revealed. Fortunately Lady Hyde wasn't upset, she laughed in genuine amusement.

"Were you listening at the keyhole?"