After all, he'd not demanded his marital rights. He could have. But he wasn't interested. As long as she behaved in public and didn't take any lovers... but then how would he get his heir on her?
Maybe he thought she was so lustful and amorous a woman that if he could keep her from taking any lovers, she would eventually turn to him out of pure need. Grace snorted as she made her way up the stairs, doing her best to ignore the looming presence of her husband as he followed her. While she had taken lovers, she hadn't had nearly as many as he. Besides, she'd learned to take care of her own needs. He could insist she sleep beside him and guard her bed all he wanted, she would be perfectly fine remaining abstinent.
But would he be?
She supposed he might be able to find another mistress, even if he was guarding his wife's bed every evening. It would just take some juggling of his time. Then again, he'd always been very busy, both with his estates and with his business. Perhaps he wouldn't have time.
It bothered her that she liked the idea of Alex being unable to indulge with a woman other than herself. Of course she took pleasure in the thought that he'd been tormented by a man's need to spend his seed regularly, but she also knew that it was more than that. Some part of her heart was soothed knowing that he would no longer be sharing his body with other women. Even after all these years and all those other women. Although, at least she'd had her own pleasures looked after as well. And if the bloody bastard did find another mistress, after insisting on this reconciliation, Grace would hop into the bed of the first man to cross her path. But she’d go much farther than she had before. She’d tell the world about it, she’d claim that Alex was an incompetent lover and that that’s why she’d left him the first time. Some probably wouldn’t believe her, and some women would know differently, but she could always claim that he paid them to say that. She would make sure he knew what it felt like to be utterly humiliated. The thought should have made her feel triumphant with possible vengeance, but instead she felt heartsick at the idea of him being with another woman, again. Sometimes she wished she could cut her heart out of her chest. Useless organ that it was.
As usual, Grace's maid Rose was waiting for her inside the bedroom. While Grace had still not forgiven the young woman for what felt like a great betrayal, she was no longer so angry. Rose had apologized on the trip, and she'd seemed quite sincere in her guilt over having spied on Grace for Alex. Her mother had been sick and when he'd offered so much extra money, as well as better lodging and the services of his personal physician for her mother, Rose hadn't been able to refuse. It didn't mean that Grace would ever trust her maid again, but she no longer felt tempted to throw the woman out of the room either.
Apparently Alex didn't agree.
"Thank you Rose, but your mistress won't need you this evening," Alex said as he came in the room behind Grace, already undoing the elaborate knot on his cravat.
Immediately Grace turned around, her eyes flashing. "I absolutely need Rose, who else is going to undo my corset?"
As soon as she asked the question, she wished she'd held the words back. The look that Alex gave her was utterly rakish, as if his usual granite expression was just a stone facade and it had just dropped to make way for the Alex she'd started to fall in love with, years ago. It took her breath away. But that was just a physical reaction, she reminded herself, and it didn't have to mean anything.
"That would be me," he murmured, his voice filled with seductive intent as he tossed the cravat onto the floor in front of his wardrobe. He barely glanced at Rose as she stood, frozen in place, eyes darting between the two of them as she tried to decide who she should listen to. "Out, Rose."
The maid fled. Something else that angered Grace, even though she couldn't blame the servant for her actions. But now she was all alone with her husband. After that first night, on the trip here, she'd managed to have Rose undress her so that she could be in bed before Alex even returned to the room in the evenings. He'd always gone down to the taproom for a glass of port before retiring, and she'd used that time to change into her nightgown, so that she could feign sleep by the time he'd come back upstairs. Then she'd wait until he was up and gone in the mornings before she'd rise and dress for the day. Always with Rose's help.
"I hope you don't think that the mere act of undressing me is going to make me eager for any kind of amorous acts between us," Grace said tartly, turning her back on him to hide the tremor in her hands as she began undoing the buttons on her dress. They were small and hard to slip through the loops, which gave her plenty to do. Just because she was about to be naked in front of Alex for the first time in years, that didn't mean she had to act like a ninny about it. If he could be unaffected by it, then so could she.
"I live in hope, as they say," he countered, his voice much closer than it had been before. She stiffened.
"I will never be interested in acting as your wife again."
"You didn't mind when we were first married," he said silkily. "You loved acting as my wife then."
"I wasn't acting, you bloody idiot," she snapped back, hating the way her body had responded to his seductive tone. It felt like something deep in her core had pulsed in response to the memories of their lovemaking. "And that was before I knew you were a lying bastard."
She shrieked as she was suddenly spun around to face him, one hard hand on her bicep, her dress gaping down the front to show the curves of her breasts as they heaved inside her corset. The expression on his face had hardened again, although his eyes did skim over her exposed bosom, before returning to her face.
"What did I tell you about cursing and insulting me?" There was suppressed fury in his voice, carefully controlled.
"Let me go!" Grace tried to pull away - she honestly hadn't thought that he'd hear her - and shrieked again as she was pulled forward. Alex's hand was firm but not rough as he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down. It took him less than a moment to pull her dress down and let it drop to the floor, before tipping her over his lap.
A tremor went through her as she tried to push herself back up, but his hand splayed across the center of her back, pressing her down to the bed. She felt cool air waft over the skin of her bottom as he yanked down her drawers as well, leaving her cheeks completely bare.
"I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry," she said, trying to wriggle away.
This was far worse than in the carriage when her skirts had been over her head, giving her a feeling of anonymity and protection, even as Alex had spanked her exposed arse. Without her dress on, with her drawers already fallen around her ankles, she felt horribly exposed. She sincerely doubted that this was going to be anything like the pleasurable spankings that Eleanor had hinted around.
The first hard slap to her bottom only confirmed that and Grace gasped, barely able to draw in a breath before Alex's hand came down again, just as firmly on her other cheek. The swats came hard and fast, so that he landed four blows on her creamy buttocks before she even had time to shriek. They were sharp and stinging, and the damned man was landing them on the same two spots over and over again. Damn Hugh! He hadn’t had to show Alex how to do this!
Grace wriggled under his other hand, crying out as he continued to pepper her bottom, focusing his discipline on the center of each of her cheeks. The two spots felt like they were on fire, smarting and stinging as he smacked his palm against them over and over again. It burned, and she was starting to wish that he would spank her anywhere else… any other part of her bottom, just to spread out the punishment. His relentless focus on those two specific spots was undoing her far faster than the spanking in the carriage had.
"Please Alex, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise," she begged between cries and sobs. Her legs kicked uselessly and she tried to reach back to stop him - since this time her skirts weren't in her way - but he just paused to catch her hands and press them down into the small of her back before resuming the stinging blows.
"No, you won't," he replied, his voice hard as he did his best to hide his arousal from his squirming, crying wife. Not that he took pleasure in her pain, but there was something gorgeous about the two bright red splotches on her creamy, quivering bottom. "I won't tolerate insults, Grace. There are other ways to show you're displeased with me which are much more productive."
Something about the way she cried out then made him sure that she wanted to yell another insult at him, but she didn't. She just squirmed and begged, trying to placate him with apologies, what Hugh had described as a "spanking chant;" a series of meaningless pleas and promises that fell from a woman's mouth to try and stymy her punishment. Alex had gotten a much more in depth lecture from all of the men that afternoon in the library, as they'd compared notes on the kinds of discipline they'd meted out and what was most effective.
He supposed that he should be thankful Grace wasn't like Cynthia. Unlike Wesley, he didn't feel confident enough to wield a strap or a cane. Edwin's creative use of a spoon sounded much more his style.
Deciding that Grace had probably had enough, he gave the bright red spots on her ass two more sharp slaps each, holding her in place as she bucked in response, and then he settled his hand down over one of her heated cheeks. Sensing that her punishment was finally over, Grace slumped across his lap, sniffling, although she'd finally stopped squirming. Which was surprising, he'd thought the moment he'd finish that he'd have to hold on to her to keep her from running.