For a long moment, Alex just stood there, staring blankly at Hugh, and then he shook himself. "Yes. Thank you. The Duchess surely won't miss us, it's such a crush here."
Hardly satisfied with the lack of dramatic revelations or declarations, the lords and ladies around them turned away, realizing that they weren't going to get anymore meat for gossip fodder. Although what they'd witnessed would cause enough of a stir. Irene just prayed that no one had seen exactly how Lady Grace's dress had been torn.
Once again, as if sensing her thoughts, Hugh leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Lady Wife, I will deal with you tomorrow. Tonight you will think about what you've done and why you've earned yourself a punishment."
Irene just nodded, wilting a bit against him. She didn't argue, because, after all, what could she truly say in her defense?
******
Climbing the stairs to his bedroom, Hugh sighed. It had been a long night. At the club, after they’d left the Duchess of Richmond’s ball, Alex had quietly gotten very, very drunk until Hugh eventually poured him back into the carriage and took him home. Then Alex’s butler had taken over responsibility for him. Hugh highly doubted the man would remember much of the evening, after the instigating incident.
Hugh didn’t dislike Grace, although he sometimes found her to be rather sharp and self-centered, but he didn’t at all like what she did to Alex. It hadn’t even occurred to him that her behavior might grate on Irene, although Edwin had said something about the two ladies not getting along. After so many years of spending time with Grace and Eleanor, he hadn’t even thought about Grace’s normal flirtatiousness until Irene had actually lunged at her.
A little smile played on his face before it slipped away. As gratifying as his wife’s jealousy might be, considering that just a few weeks ago she’d thrown herself at Alex, he couldn’t allow her behavior to go unpunished. It seemed that his love’s impulses were bound to continue to get her into trouble.
If he hadn’t caught her up, who knew what she might have done to Grace in the middle of the most socially important ball of the Season? The resulting scandal would have been almost impossible to recover from, for both of them.
But at least he wouldn't have to punish her this evening. He was too tired. Even if the idea did makes his groin stir with interest. And it would give her time to think through her actions; and stopping to think was definitely something his wife needed to work on. While she wasn’t quite the calm, sedate bride he’d initially thought he was marrying, he did love his wife, but he was learning more and more that she was ruled by her impulses when her emotions ran high. Emotions that she had learned to pent up under the disapproval of her mother; and while he was happy that she didn’t feel the same need to hide them from him, she obviously had very little practice controlling them. That may be fine in the country, but not here in town where the wrong move could end up having repercussions that spanned far beyond one person.
Cutler helped him undress before he donned his dressing gown and went into the darkened bedroom. There was a single candle lit next to the bed, on his side, casting only the dimmest light throughout the room. Irene’s red hair glinted in the candlelight, spread out across the pillow, and despite his exhaustion, Hugh felt his groin stir with interest again. Coming closer, he could see her fist balled up under her chin and the slight puffiness to her eyes that told him she’d been crying before she’d fallen asleep.
He hated to know that she’d been weeping, but he also hoped it had taught her a lesson.
Ignoring the hardening state of his cock, Hugh let his dressing gown fall to the floor and crawled in beside his wife. As usual, she was wearing her night rail. Sighing, he tugged it up to her hips so that he could cradle the length of his cock between her bottom cheeks, pulling her tightly against his groin. It was one of his favorite ways to sleep. She only stirred slightly as he turned back to blow out the candle, before wrapping her in his arms. Despite his aching arousal, he fell asleep almost immediately.
******
Surely this was torture.
Sitting across the breakfast table from her husband, Irene couldn’t concentrate at all. She’d been picking at the plate of fruit, which was all she’d thought she could stomach, while Hugh read the newspaper and drank his coffee. Their normal everyday routine, but today wasn’t a normal day was it? No, she knew that she was getting a spanking today.
And making her wait for it was just cruel.
She’d woken late and alone, although it had been obvious from the impression on the pillow beside hers and the rumpling of the sheets that Hugh had crawled into bed with her at some point during the night. The fact that he had left without waking her wasn’t, by itself, unusual but it still caused her stomach to stir with anxiety. When she’d come down to the breakfast table, she’d found him already there and waiting for her, as he always did when she didn’t wake up next to him.
But she’d found that her appetite had deserted her, wondering whether or not he was going to spank her immediately after breakfast. If he was going to tell her when he was going to do it. She didn’t think she could wait until this evening, before bed. Dragging out the torment throughout the entire day would just be too much.
Looking over at the doorway, where a footman was posted, Irene gave him a discreet little wave of dismissal. Surprised, but obviously not going to argue, the man exited the room. Hearing the door close, Hugh looked up from his paper.
“Hugh,” she said, as he sat up straight, frowning at the door the footman had just disappeared through.
“Yes sweetheart?”
Irene took a deep breath, gathering her courage. It was better to ask and find out now than to sit in worried anxiety. The words came out in a rush. “When are you going to spank me?”
Well that got his attention. Hugh’s head whipped around to face her, his blue eyes boring into hers. When he looked like that she couldn’t help but feel even more nervous; he was normally so cheerful, always smiling with his eyes if not his mouth, but right now he looked every inch the disciplinarian. She squirmed under his focused attention, even though she tried to keep still.
Folding the newspaper, Hugh put it down next to his coffee as he considered her words.
“Do you want me to spank you?”
“No… I mean… no… but if you’re going to I want to know when you’re going to do it.” Irene wrung her hands in her lap. For a moment she’d actually thought she was going to say ‘yes,’ just because she was overwhelmed by guilt over her behavior last night. Even though she didn’t want the spanking, she somehow thought she’d feel better for being punished. Transgression, punishment, and then everything was forgiven. So much less demoralizing then the way her mother would pick at her for weeks on end when she’d done something wrong.
“Oh, I’m absolutely going to spank you, Irene. I realized, looking back, that Grace can be overly familiar with me on occasion and how that may have looked to you. But that doesn’t excuse your own behavior. No matter the provocation, attacking her was absolutely unwarranted.”
Irene hung her head, feeling absolutely abysmal. “I know Hugh. I’m sorry.”
“I’m aware that there is some tension between the