Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

fternoon. He needed to do it at some point. Bath was several days away and he didn't intend to spend the entirety of the journey on his horse. While he was certainly hardy enough to, he hoped that he and Grace could at least begin to repair their relationship before reaching Bath and their friends. That required being in the same space. Besides, it was never good to let a woman stew with her own thoughts for too long. Especially if those thoughts were already bound to be belligerent.

As she swanned out of the carriage, lips pursed, refusing to look at him, he sighed internally. She certainly hadn't softened since this morning. Although her eyes were still a bit red-rimmed from weeping, she looked as beautiful and unapproachable as a marble statue. Not at all like the laughing young woman he'd married. It made his chest ache as he wondered if he’d truly been the reason behind the death of that laughter.

Sometimes he wondered if it hadn't been him at all, if perhaps there had been some other reason for her disaffection. The day she’d left him, she’d called them both fools. The rest of her words had been broken, disjointed, thrown at him between tears and raging insults, and he still didn't know what he, or they, had done that was so foolish. Back then, he hadn’t cared; he’d been too affronted by her insults and too hurt by the fact that she’d left him without any warning.

As Grace swept into the inn, her maid, Rose, trailed behind her. The young woman caught his eye and grimaced before following Grace through the door. Alex knew that the two had had a very strong relationship, the kind of trust that was necessary between a lady and a maid. He supposed he was to blame for ruining that too.

Going into the inn, he arranged for a meal and a private dining room for them. Partly so that he could at least try and speak with Grace, partly because he didn't want anyone to witness the outburst that he was sure must be boiling. During their short marriage, Grace had never been one to bottle up her emotions. From what he'd observed since she’d left him that was no longer true, but this morning had been an exception to that. Perhaps this afternoon would be too.

Hell, he almost wished she would rage at him again, instead of doing this damnable impression of an ice princess.

"I ordered us some food and wine," he said as he walked into the room where Grace was already settling herself down at the table. He looked at Rose and tilted his head towards the door, dismissing her. For just a moment he thought he saw a flash of anger in Grace's eyes as his presumptuousness, but then it was gone and she was back to staring at him blankly. After her fury this morning, he was all set for another scene, but instead she'd withdrawn inside herself again. Placing his hat down on the table, he sat across from her, studying her face. Grace looked over his shoulder, staring resolutely at the wall.

The idea of spanking her, as his friends had suggested, was becoming more and more appealing. Heating her bottom might break through some of that ice. Unfortunately, he didn’t really think he could stomach spanking her just to make her talk to him. He didn’t want to discipline her unless she’d actually done something to earn it.

The door behind him opened, admitting the innkeeper, who fluttered around them with their midday meal. Alex pasted a smile on his face, something he rarely expended the energy to do, and assured the man that the repast of meats and cheeses, with a small plate of fruit, was quite enough for both him and the lady. Anxious to please, the innkeeper poured their wine with a flourish and then hurried away, obviously picking up on Alex's desire to be left in peace.

Having a third party there certainly helped to ease the tension for a few minutes; the second the innkeeper left the room, the air seemed to thicken and Alex could feel his stomach churning with anxiety. Kidnapping his wife in order to force reconciliation sounded quite easy in theory, but in actuality, the reconciliation part was going to be anything but.

Grace was already filling her plate, her focus completely on the food in front of them rather than looking at him. With an inward sigh, Alex supposed it was enough that she wasn't throwing the food at his head.

They ate in complete silence.

In fact, Grace didn't make a single noise, speak a single word, until he started to follow her into the carriage. Already seated upon the bench, she whipped her head back around from where she'd already been looking out the window, her large blue eyes even wider than usual.

"What are you doing?" she asked sharply, her voice laced with shock. Alex had thought it was pretty obvious was he was doing, but he answered her anyway.

"I thought I might join you in the carriage for the afternoon," he said, keeping his tone as amiable as possible, but also firm. He turned his head, giving Rose a jerking nod at the other carriage which was carrying several of the other servants. The maid turned, leaving him to climb in with Grace.

Firmly planting himself on the bench across from her, his legs stretched out, taking up as much space as possible. The carriage door shut and Grace hissed, like a cat whose fur had just been ruffled the wrong way. In fact, she looked very much like that cat. Alex ignored her.

There was a long silence between them, and then the carriage rocked as it began moving. He looked at Grace as she looked out the window, studying the tense muscle in her jaw, the long line of her throat, the way her breasts heaved as she sucked in air through her nose, and the tiny fists that were balled on her lap. It had been a long time since he'd been able to look at his wife this way, to examine her so minutely. There were small changes in her body, although she'd only become more beautiful with age, but the largest changes weren’t immediately visible.

At one time they would have sat side by side in this carriage, talking and laughing, and she would have pressed herself against him while he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. One time he'd even made love to her in a carriage. After a ball, on their honeymoon, he'd pulled up her skirts and taken her right then and there, because he couldn't wait till they'd returned to the hotel, his passion for her had been so great.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Alex raised his eyebrow. As far as he could tell, Grace's attention hadn't strayed from the window. But then again, he hadn't been looking at her expression just now. His eyes rose back to her face, noting the pink tinge to her cheeks.

"What do you mean?" he asked, although he knew very well what she meant. He'd been looking at her the way a man looks at a woman, at his wife. The way a man looks at a woman who has been in his bed and found pleasure there.

"It's making my skin crawl." She shuddered, to emphasize her point.

Although the little barb pricked, the way she'd meant it to, he couldn't help but wonder if her attack was more of a defense. There was certainly something about the tilt of her chin, the way she was holding herself, that made him feel as though she was trying to protect herself from something. From him. Hope kindled in his chest. She wasn't as indifferent as she pretended to be. Perhaps she didn't hate him as much as she seemed to.

"I would think you've become used to men looking at you like that," he murmured. Grace's eyes snapped to his face, flashing blue fire, before she tore them away again. Her pretty rosebud of a mouth was wound up tight and pinched. As he watched it slowly smoothed and relaxed, as if she was pulling down a mask over her face. "Many men enjoy looking at a beautiful woman."

"Many men enjoy doing quite a bit more than that."

A reference to her lovers. He wasn't surprised. Jealousy had become a part of his everyday life after she'd left him, but he'd always considered it just punishment. After all, he'd been the one to drive her to that point.

"You would know, I suppose."

To his surprise, Grace flinched. Her eyes slid over to him again, wary and defensive.

"I didn't take a lover till you took a mistress," she said, obviously expecting him to argue.

"I know."