Punishing His Ward (Domestic Discipline 3)

Still, she didn't appreciate the reminder that he didn't have any faith in her ability to behave. She could when she chose to.

Tilting her head haughtily up, she snapped at his bicep with her fan, trying to ignore just how impressive a bicep it was. No padded shoulders needed for the Earl. The look of surprise at her retaliation almost made her break character and giggle.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said coolly, in her best impression of the Countess' quelling tones. The edges of her lips curved upwards, as they always did when she was about to utter something purposefully outrageous. "I always bestow my attentions to the gentlemen equally."

The Earl's hazel eyes narrowed, the smile slipping from his face and it really was all Cynthia could do not to laugh out loud at him. Despite how much her bottom hurt - and it truly did, although much less when she was standing rather than sitting - she just could not keep from prodding at him. The implication that she allowed quite a few gentlemen some... ah... liberties was not lost on him and he obviously didn't like.

With something approaching a growl, his hand tightened on hers as his eyes flashed rather dangerously and Cynthia suddenly realized that she was baiting a tiger with a very short stick. An uncaged tiger.

"Oh Wesley, couldn't you do something about your hair?" The Countess' dismayed tones preceded her down the stairs and Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief as the Earl straightened, his grip on her fingers loosening slightly. She yanked her hand back as the Earl looked past her up and his mother, and used the opportunity to slide sideways and away from him.

“My hair is fine, Mother,” he said, obviously somewhat exasperated and yet his tone with her was as respectful and gentle as always. He bowed as she reached them. “You look lovely tonight.”

The older woman’s face lit up at the compliment from her eldest son. Not that his words were anything but the truth; she was garbed in a dark burgundy gown with a black netted overgown, both trimmed with silver, and she looked the epitome of a fashionable matron of the ton. The garnets shining around her neck and at her ears emphasized her position and status, as if her regal bearing wasn’t enough. It was at times like this that Cynthia found the Countess most intimidating.

Fortunately the Countess looked at her with every evidence of approval as she thanked her son. “Cynthia, you look parfait! That dress is exquisite, Madame Bissette truly outdid herself.”

Cynthia beamed at the Countess, bobbing a small curtsy that caused her breasts to look particularly precariously confined to the dress and Wesley caught his breath. In London he’d seen plenty of fashions with lower necklines, but somehow with Cynthia’s ample curves even a neckline this low seemed too much. Not that his mother noticed, but the other gentlemen at the Assembly tonight certainly would.

And probably not the ones he would approve of as a husband for Cynthia.

Grimly foreseeing a rather frustrating evening ahead, Wesley ushered his mother and Cynthia out to the waiting carriage.

******

Edwin and Wesley stood at the edges of the room, watching Miss Bryant and Eleanor as they passed through the steps of a quadrille with their respective partners. Surprisingly, for once, there seemed to be more gentlemen willing to dance then there were women to dance with – Wesley supposed it was the fact that most eligible young ladies were currently in London for the end of the Season, hanging onto the hope that they might make a match of it before the Season ended – so he and Edwin didn’t have to stand up for every set. If there had been young ladies sitting out, the Countess would have expected both of them to step up and do their duty, as she saw it.

Watching Eleanor laugh up into her partner’s face, Edwin had to struggle only slightly with the jealousy that clawed its way up his chest. Since their arrival in Bath his and Eleanor’s relationship seemed to have taken another turn. A much gentler one – other than the spanking she’d earned for her attitude. He knew that, on some level, her body enjoyed receiving discipline as much as he enjoyed meting it out, but she wasn’t willing to admit that and she always was on her best behavior after a punishment.

A slow smile spread across his face as he remembered this morning, when he gave her the opportunity to explore his body again and she’d taken full advantage of it. This time she hadn’t relented with her mouth until he’d spurted his seed, and she’d swallowed every drop of it. The many blessings of a passionate and curious wife. Afterwards, he’d tied her wrists to the bed and made his own leisurely exploration of her body, ending with his mouth on her clit and his fingers stroking the insides of her heated quim. By the time she climaxed for him, he was already hard and aching again and he’d taken the opportunity to bury himself inside of her while she was still limp and quivering from her climax.

They hadn’t left their bed till well past noon.

Now, as he watched her dancing with other men, he could still feel the jealousy rising up inside him every time she smiled or laughed, but it was accompanied by a kind of warm security. He’d been wooing her, not just while they were in bed, but with long talks and gifts and a showering of affection. His wife was a wonderfully tactile creature, and he’d found that she rather enjoyed snuggling up under his arm while they were reading together in the afternoons. The sensation of having her there was a bit distracting, but he enjoyed it nevertheless. And it seemed as though the more innocent caresses and embraces they shared, the warmer and more open she became towards him.

Not once, since they’d come to Bath, had she reverted to the cold ice queen that she had occasionally inflicted on him while they were in London. He still didn’t know exactly what had made her run hot and cold towards him, but he hoped that her current behavior was an indication that his tactics and affections would mean that her attitude towards him would continue to be more stable.

Next to him, Wesley growled under his breath, and Edwin turned his attention towards his friend. Wesley’s attitude towards his ward was providing both Eleanor and Edwin with a great amount of entertainment, especially this evening when he was watching over her like a hawk.

“Is something wrong?” Edwin queried, his tone entirely innocent as he covered up his amusement. Wesley just continued scowling in the direction of the dance floor and Edwin had to cough to cover a laugh. “You could always dance with her again, if it bothers you so much.”

“What?” Wesley whipped his head around, looking at Edwin suspiciously. But Edwin had seen the way that Wesley watched his ward.

“It’d be totally acceptable, as her guardian, to secure a second dance with her,” Edwin said blandly. Unusual, but acceptable. They’d already done the pretty once, while Edwin danced with Eleanor, but as Wesley had danced with the Countess and Eleanor, Edwin had seen where his friend’s eyes had been watching. And since they’d retired from the dance floor, Wesley hadn’t looked anywhere else.

Even his mother was eying him speculatively, not that he seemed to notice. And Wesley always noticed.

Now he seemed to be thinking over Edwin’s words and giving them serious merit. Then he shook his head and Edwin had to hide another grin. “No. I can watch her just as easily from here.”

While Edwin had happily stepped into marriage in order to secure Eleanor, and Hugh hadn’t fought the steps leading to his marriage with Irene, it appeared that Wesley wasn’t going to go quietly. In fact, his reaction was that of a man who was going to fight his emotions to the bitter end. But Edwin didn’t doubt that Wesley was attracted to Miss Bryant, even if she was a bigger handful then Nell. Privately he thought that might not be a bad thing; he wanted his friend to find the same happiness in marriage that he had, and he didn’t think that would be possible if Wesley married one of the proper debutantes and kept a mistress on the side. A wilder and less proper wife like Miss Bryant would keep Wesley quite occupied.

The dance ended and gentlemen very properly escorted Eleanor and Miss Bryant back to him and Wesley. There were several obvious rakes in attendance, but so far they’d held back from approaching either of the ladies as they were well guarded by Wesley and Edwin.

Eleanor and Miss Bryant immediately began chatting, both flush from their exertions. Resting a gentle hand on his wife’s back, Edwin enjoyed the way she immediately leaned towards him, as orientated towards him as he was to her. To his amusement, both Wesley and Miss Bryant were doing something similar, although of course Wesley didn’t touch her. But there was something in both of their stances that made it clear, to him, that they were both very aware of each other. The little sidelong looks that Miss Bryant was giving her guardian, as well as Wesley’s blatantly intentional way of not looking at her, now that she was off the dance floor, said volumes.

“Is it like this in London?” Miss Bryant asked Eleanor, giving Wesley another little look from beneath her eyelashes. For all intents and purposes, his focus seemed to be on the other side of the room, but Edwin could see the way Wesley’s eyes drifted back towards Miss Bryant before he jerked back to the direction he was facing. “The Countess says this is tame compared to the entertainmen

ts there.”