Punishing His Ward (Domestic Discipline 3)

"Yes... I'll be interested to see how that plays out. Do you think he might bring her to the wedding?"

"Could be the perfect opportunity. Sentimental event and all that; women love that kind of thing. Besides which, I doubt he'll want to conduct his reconciliation under the eyes of the ton in London. Removing her to Bath under the excuse of a wedding and then going further afield would be a viable strategy."

"If he can get her out of London with him at all,” Edwin mused, thinking about Lady Brooke’s stubbornness. It rivaled his wife’s. “Well, Eleanor would be glad to see Grace again, although I can't imagine what she would think about the circumstances."

Not to mention the other couple that would also certainly be attending the wedding. Thinking back to the last time Grace and Irene had been in the same room, Edwin couldn't help but wince a little. Although if Lord Brooke was going to reestablish his marriage, the women were just going to have to learn to get along.

He hoped.

Chapter 12

When the letter arrived, it was immediately taken to the study and read as soon as the master of the house was told the address from whence it came. And then Hugh laughed so hard he cried, leaning back against his chair and actually holding his belly. Hearing his laughter, his curious wife came in, having just returned from a visit with her mother. She didn’t make them as often as her mother liked, and whenever she returned home she searched out Hugh from some much needed bolstering.

"Hugh? What is it?"

Still chuckling, Hugh waved the letter in his hand. "Wesley's getting married."

"Really?"

Hugh laughed again at Irene's obvious surprise as she approached his desk. He waved her closer and she smiled as she walked around the side. Today she looked particularly fetching in a morning gown of dark forest green that emphasized her green eyes and make her hair look even more coppery than usual. In the sunlight, her pale skin was almost luminescent. The soft folds of the gown clung to her slender figure and rounded breasts. Reaching out, he grasped her hand and pulled her onto his lap, which was where he liked her best.

"Hugh!" Irene fell down laughing, wriggling her soft bottom around on his thighs and stirring his interest as her feminine curves pressed against him. Looping his arm around her slim waist, he grinned as he realized that she wasn't wearing a corset. She often didn't around the house, unless they were expecting guests or she was having an at-home. Hugh preferred it that way, and it wasn’t as if she truly needed one. His wife had a wonderfully slight figure.

"See?" Hugh said, pointing at the pertinent section in the letter as Irene settled against him. "He's marrying his ward, Cynthia."

"The woman his mother described as a demon sent to plague her into an early grave? That's not very nice." Irene's eyes scanned the paragraph and blinked with surprise. "He says the Countess seems happy about it?"

"Apparently. Either she changed her mind about Miss Bryant being a demon, or she’s just so relieved that Wesley is to be married that she doesn’t care to who. Which I can understand, since I wouldn’t have placed bets on him running to the alter anytime soon. They're to be married in two weeks. How would you like to go to Bath, sweetheart?"

"And miss the end of the Season? Oh tragedy," Irene said dramatically, pressing her hand to her bosom as she rolled her eyes. Hugh chuckled and kissed the upturned underside of her chin. Bath might not be the country, but he wasn't at all surprised that Irene would still find it preferable to London, especially if it meant quitting the end of the Season early. And the way things had been going so far this Season, it wouldn't be a bad thing to end their Season early when it was for a socially acceptable reason such as Wesley's wedding. Now that he knew how excitable Irene was, some months away from London where she could continue to build her confidence away from her mother and also learn to control her impulses, sounded extremely beneficial. She’d been thrust into the social scene as his wife largely unprepared, by next Season he was sure that she’d be more comfortable in her position and with herself. But they couldn’t have just left without a reasonable excuse or it would have set tongues wagging; however, Wesley’s wedding was the perfect opportunity as no one would see anything strange in it. There would be no reason to speculate that the recent interaction with Lady Brooke had anything to do with their departure, for example.

In fact, Hugh wouldn't be surprised if quite a few members of the ton also left the capital early in order to attend the Earl of Spencer's wedding. Not just because Wesley was important as both an Earl and for business he created when he was in India, but because of his reputation. The dragons of the ton (many of whom were friends with the Countess) would want to see the downfall of a rake so they could crow smugly over it, the men would want to come and see what woman had managed to catch the notorious Earl of Spencer (and share a drink over another fallen comrade), and the young wives and widows would want to see if Wesley would remain true to his usual ways or if he had reformed. Hugh highly suspected that those ladies would be disappointed.

Although Wesley's wedding certainly wouldn't deplete attendance of the Season. There was still the marriage mart to keep it going, those members of Society who never left London, not to mention the simple fact that there were several major events upcoming that would have to be missed in order to attend the wedding. None of which was a concern for Hugh, but would be for many others.

"I wonder why the sudden decision," Irene said, as she finished reading the letter and shaking Hugh from his thoughts. "He doesn't say anything about how or why this came about."

"Probably compromised her beyond redemption."

"Hugh! What a thing to say about your friend!" Irene gave him a baleful look, lightly slapping his chest. "I'm sure Lo

rd Spencer did no such thing." There was a hint of doubt in her voice, but not much. One thing that Hugh had noticed was that Irene tended to take people at face value, something that wasn’t always wise to do but which he adored about her. She’d learn eventually, but he did enjoy her innocence for now, especially when it meant she hadn’t seen Wesley for what he truly was.

"You have a very rosy view of my friends, sweetheart."

"Because you're all gentlemen and should behave as such," his wife said, rather primly. Hugh loved it when she was prim, it made debauching her so much more entertaining. It wasn't that she’d forgotten about when he had made love to her outside under the sun, or that she'd forgotten the spankings she'd received at his hand, and she was a creative and passionate lover, but she held onto certain notions sometimes...

"If you say so, dear," Hugh said, leaning forward to nuzzle his face into the soft curve of her breasts. He breathed in her scent, lavender and woman and utterly intoxicating; he tightened his arm about her waist and brought his other hand down to clamp around her thigh.

"Hugh!" Laughing, Irene tried to push him away, but he just growled and held on more tightly, turning her slightly so that he could bury his face between the delightful mounds. Her morning dress didn't show a lot of cleavage, but enough to tease him, enough to allow him to lick her skin in between her breasts. Sliding his hand up from her thigh to cup her breast, Hugh squeezed it gently, and she gasped, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Hugh, we can't! The door's unlocked!"

"Adds a certain flair to the situation, doesn't it?" He whispered back, teasingly as his fingers tweaked her nipple and then moved on to begin undoing her buttons at the top of her dress. He loved buttons down the front of a dress. “We could be interrupted at any moment and then someone would see me making love to my beautiful wife…”

"Hugh, no, stop," Irene whispered, giggling nervously, although obviously unsure as to whether or not he was serious in his intent. The little darting glances she gave at the door as a fiery blush rose in her cheeks, combined with her squirming bottom on his lap and her useless attempt to bat his hands away from her buttons, was delightful. Hugh’s cock was pressed against the underside of her bottom, already achingly hard as he teased her. The sides of her dress fell open, revealing the creamy mounds of her breasts through the thin chemise she was wearing, with the rosy pink hint of her nipple.

"You don't really want me to stop," he murmured, pulling her down for a kiss as his hand slid into the top of her dress. Her breast was warm and heavy in his hand, the little nipple already hardening into a bud. The protest she tried to voice was muffled, first by his lips and then by his tongue as he thrust it into her mouth. Pinching her nipple, he tugged it fully to hardness, feeling her shudder on his lap as she moaned into his mouth.

Bending her back, so that she had to catch his shirt to keep from falling back completely, Hugh deepened the kiss and took advantage of her precarious balance to more fully open her dress so that, other than the thin chemise, her breasts were bared to the air. He ignored her muffled protest. It was unlikely that any of the servants would enter without knocking and he rather liked the idea of debauching his wife in the middle of the day, in his study, with an unlocked door. Especially since she obviously found it to be a scandalous proposition.