Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

At any time during their marriage, he could have claimed his marital rights and Grace would have had no cause to resist. Anyone who had sheltered her would have had to give her up, under the law, if Lord Brooke had insisted. Instead, he'd let her go her own way for years. Eleanor had never seen another man do anything like it, which was why it was such a scandal among the ton. She was as surprised as Grace had been, to hear that he wanted a reconciliation.

Of course, she was even more surprised to see Grace in Bath. Apparently, Lord Brooke's patience with the estrangement had ended.

"Perhaps once you left, he realized what he had lost," Eleanor murmured, trying to be encouraging. After all, Lord Brooke couldn't be completely uncaring if he was going through all this trouble to reconcile with Grace, rather than divorcing her. And Eleanor had some experience in recognizing affection from men who were unwilling to speak their emotions out loud. She still wasn't sure if her own husband loved her, but she knew that he had great affection for her, and she was sure she saw the same signs in Lord Brooke.

"Which is how he found himself so quickly in so many other women's beds," Grace said acidly, although she didn't pull away from Eleanor's shoulder. Dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief, she was slowly regaining control over herself. "A rather slow realization, if one happened at all."

"Men can be quite slow about such things," Eleanor said, smiling slightly, although she certainly wasn't cheery about it. She'd struggled with her own worries about Edwin's fidelity, and still did, although he'd mostly convinced her that he would remain faithful. But he still hadn't told her whether or not his emotions for her went beyond that of a childhood companion whom he desired in his bed. Hers went considerably beyond that, and she worried that a lack of return would make her bitter and miserable.

Quite a bit like Grace, in fact, even if Edwin did remain faithful.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," Grace said softly. "I thought I did... but nothing's turning out the way I planned it."

A sentiment that Eleanor could whole-heartedly sympathize with. But she also thought she was much happier than if her plans had come to realization - at least, she would be once Edwin declared his feelings.

"Do you think he would let you come to tea this afternoon?" she asked, worried at the way Grace was continuing to tremble, almost shivering, despite the warmth of the day. "Irene will be there, and Cynthia, Wesley's betrothed. Surely he can't object to that."

"That sounds like a fine idea, Lady Hyde."

Both women jerked in shock, Grace sitting bolt upright, as Lord Brooke answered the question from the door. Eleanor pursed her lips. He moved as quietly as a cat! It was more than a little disconcerting, especially since neither she nor Grace knew how long he'd been listening. She didn't think it could have been overly long, but she still ran through their conversation in her head, hoping they hadn't said anything too indiscreet.

"Come Gracie, I'll show you around the house, and then this afternoon you can go have tea with your friends."

Next to Eleanor, Grace stiffened at Alex's tone, which to Eleanor's ear hovered somewhere between soothing and patronizing. It certainly wasn't what she would have expected to hear from Lord Brooke's mouth, not the man who was reputed to be London's harshest member of the ton. Grace squeezed Eleanor's hand once and then stood, turning her back on her husband to face her friend again. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed from crying, but she had control over herself again.

"I'll see you this afternoon," she said softly, as Eleanor stood. They squeezed each other's hands, Eleanor in sympathetic support, Grace in a kind of needy desperation.

"Good day, Lord Brooke," Eleanor said as she passed him, giving him a sharp, warning look. While in London, she'd become fairly comfortable with the man, and while she trusted him not to harm Grace physically, she wasn't sure if he fully understood what he was doing to her friend emotionally.

"Lady Hyde," he murmured, with a slight bow.

Behind him, the butler waited to show Eleanor to the door. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, to see Lord Brooke and Grace, walking down the hallway in the opposite direction. Grace's hand was on his arm, although she seemed to be trying to keep as much distance from her husband as possible within the parameters given to her, but Lord Brooke's fingers were covering hers, as if trying to pull her closer.

Eleanor's lips twitched. Something was happening between the long-estranged Lord and Lady, although whether the change was for better or worse remained to be seen.

******

As Alex led Grace around the house, he wished that he had heard more of her conversation with Eleanor. From the little he'd heard, he was sure that it would have been revealing. He'd heard Grace bitterly speaking of his affairs, which had made him wince, especially because he realized she was particularly incensed at how quickly he'd replaced her in his bed. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea, guaranteed to spark her jealousy and return her to him, as well as punish her for leaving. Now it was one of his largest regrets, even more so after hearing the long-held hurt in her voice.

But he couldn't change the past now. Neither of them had been faithful. He hadn't taken a mistress until after she'd taken a lover, but she didn't know that. Sap skull that he'd been, he hadn't thought about how his reaction to her flirtations had been tempered by his knowledge that she hadn't actually gone through with them. Grace had had no such assurance.

Now she was walking by his side, stiff as a board and cold as ice. Even her fingers were chilled, despite the warmth of the air, although they were slowly warming under his hand. They walked through the small library, the morning room, the music room, and finally upstairs to the bedroom. The only one that he'd had made up for them.

On the trip, Grace hadn't slept very well by his side, but he was determined that she'd learn. They'd spent too much time separated over the years, he wasn't about to allow her to escape him at night by retreating to a different bed. Besides, having her at his side had given him the best sleep he'd had in years; especially when she cuddled up to him and he was able to wrap himself around her.

Touching her again had quickly become addictive, and he hadn't been able to help himself when she'd fallen asleep in the carriage. He'd taken her upon his lap, able to pretend - at least for a short while - that she was completely his again.

"You must be joking," she said, snapping at him as she yanked her fingers away. Alex raised his eyebrows at her as she looked at him in complete exasperation. "You must know by now that I am absolutely not going to beg for anything from you. Why can't I have my own room?"

"Because I like you in my bed, even if we do nothing but sleep," Alex said. He'd decided to try and keep things simple and honest between himself and Grace. Especially because he'd noticed that, for all her posturing, she was not unaffected when he did so. Before she turned away, he saw her brow furrow in confused consternation, as if she was trying to decipher some hidden meaning in his words. She did that quite often, he noticed. Hopefully soon she'd realize that he meant exactly what he said. "Besides, you don't seem to object when you cuddle up beside me in the night."

"I can't help what I do when I'm asleep," she snapped.

"Of course you can't," he murmured, watching her pace around the room, checking to see where her

things were.

The contemptuous look she gave him said that she certainly wouldn't touch him by choice at all, much less press her body against his in the night. Which shouldn't feel like a stab to his heart, but it did. He knew he had to be patient. While she might claim she couldn't help herself, last night she'd said his name as she slept, while he held her. Even her guarded demeanor gave him hope - because if she truly cared nothing for him, then what was she guarding against? In the meantime, he had to hold firm against her barbs and attempts to push him away.