Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

Her voice was a little too loud, her laughter a little too brazen, and she was being remarkably indiscreet about, well, everything. Most of the high-flyers were seated with the Countess, but he could see several of them eyeing Grace from down the length of the table. She was creating more talk, and he was too far away to be able to do anything about it. Interrupting dinner would only draw more attention to her behavior and fuel speculation. He gritted his teeth, trying to decide what to do. Grace’s manners had always been impeccable, especially after they’d become estranged, because she realized what a fine line she walked on in Society. If she had done anything more extraordinary than indulge in her private life, the high sticklers would have had all the excuse they needed to drive her from Society completely. Now that Alex was back in her life, trying to reconcile, did she think she no longer needed to follow the other social conventions? Or was this for his benefit alone?

"I'm sorry, Lady Brooke, I didn't catch that," a pretty, dark-haired lady said, politely, as Grace muttered something under her breath. Mrs. Locklear, if Alex remembered her introduction correctly, a widow who had been escorted there by her friend Lord Hereford. Although Alex was quite sure that they were probably more than friends.

"Well, Mrs. Locklear," Grace said, her rising tones contemptuously superior, "if you had been listening instead of mentally undressing everyone else's husbands, you wouldn't need to ask."

Both Mrs. Locklear and Lord Hereford went beet red, for very different reasons. Alex coughed, nearly choking on the piece of chicken he practically swallowed whole. The actual remark didn't surprise him, Grace had always said outrageous things, but she had always said them sotto voce to a trusted companion. Not announced it so that everyone could hear. Well, not everyone, but enough people to bring conversation around their part of the table to a grinding halt.

On one hand, all the women around them looked more than a little gratified to have Mrs. Locklear called out. On the other hand, it still reflected badly upon Grace and upon himself that she had spoken so rudely to anyone, no matter how well it was deserved. Propriety demanded that the social faults of others not be publicly remarked upon, although of course many would gossip about it privately. Fortunately, Mrs. Locklear didn't respond in kind; instead she seemed to shrink in on herself, barely looking at any of the men, as Grace turned to answer a question that Edwin asked her. He shot Alex a look of apology that was unnecessary; Alex didn't think Edwin would have any real control over Grace, even though he was sitting next to her, but he was grateful to his friend for distracting her.

Damn the social conventions that dictated a man and wife should sit apart anyway. Alex could have kept more control over Grace’s drinking if he’d been sitting closer. Granted, he hadn’t noticed her drinking to excess, but he had been immersed in conversation with his dinner companions until her behavior had distracted him.

******

When the women left the table to the men, dispersing to the drawing room, Eleanor swiftly caught up to Grace. She’d been watching her friend carefully all evening and she could tell that Grace was up to something. Something that was probably going to earn her nothing but a hot bottom at the end of the evening, if the expression on Lord Brooke’s face was any indicator.

Eleanor was fairly certain that his desire to reconcile with Grace was sincere. Ever since the couple had arrived in Bath, he’d already appeared more open and approachable. She’d even seen him smile several times. Usually when Grace couldn’t see him do so. Both of them appeared to be playing their hands very close to their chests, but there was definitely something between them.

“What are you doing?” Eleanor whispered into Grace’s ear, snagging her friend’s elbow and pulling her close.

After all, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to Grace. The high sticklers had already been looking at her askance by dessert, and even the Countess had noticed there was something going on with her, although she’d been too far down the table to know what. Thankfully.

Grace sniffed, turning her nose up into the air, stumbling over her feet a bit as she did so. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not drunk, so stop acting,” Eleanor whispered back. Grace looked at her in surprise, and with a bit of guilt, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. “You’re going to end up causing a scene.”

“Yes, and then I’ll be able to see how Alex reacts.”

Eleanor groaned. She should have known. Sometimes she and Grace were so alike. Grace wanted to provoke a reaction from Alex to try and discern his true feelings, just as Eleanor wanted to do with Edwin. However, she knew from trial and error that forcing such a declaration was near to impossible. No matter what Edwin did in response to Eleanor’s provocation, she could always find multiple motivations to assign to his actions. It never helped clarify what his feelings might be towards her.

“It’s not going to work,” Eleanor told her. “You’re probably just going to end up not being able to sit down tomorrow.”

“If he spanks me, instead of giving up on this idiotic notion to reconcile, then that will say a great deal, won’t it?”

It would, but it wouldn’t be enough. Something else Eleanor knew, because her own doubts still gnawed at her. She did find it reassuring that Edwin would rather spank or birch her bottom then send her out of his sight, but then again, he needed an heir. So did Alex. Although, it truly would be easier for him to divorce Grace than to put forth an effort to keep her in line. No one would blame him. If Edwin wanted to divorce, or even separate, it would be a huge scandal. Not to mention it would wreck his friendship with Hugh. Whereas, most of Society would probably applaud such a step by Lord Brooke. Perhaps Grace was right and she would find it more indicative than Edwin’s responses were for Eleanor.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she murmured, and then there wasn’t a chance to say anything more, because the Countess came sweeping up to them as they entered the drawing room.

It was obvious the older woman had realized something was going on with Grace and was determined that nothing happened to ruin the dinner. Not that Grace would ever take her antics that far, especially not when Alex wasn’t around to be witness to it. Eleanor watched, amused, as the Countess seated Grace next to her, surrounded by some of the highest sticklers in Society, ones who would have probably given her the cut direct if they’d happened upon her in London… and Grace proceeded to charm them all.

Some of them quite unwillingly. The Duchess of Kent looked like she’d swallowed an egg about two seconds after she laughed at one of Grace’s quips, realizing who she was laughing with. None of them would dare cut her with the Countess right there, obviously sponsoring her, and Alex having escorted her, but they clearly weren't quite sure how to treat her either. Eleanor had to swallow her own laughter as she made her way over to Cynthia and Irene, who were sitting on one of the window seats and chatting.

Irene was describing Hugh's estates and their honeymoon there. Smiling, Eleanor sat down with them, enjoying hearing about her old home from a new perspective.

"I don't know that I'll make a very good lady of the house," Cynthia said ruefully, when Irene was done. "The Countess has been doing her best to train me, but I can't imagine why anyone would listen to me. Manfred certainly doesn't."

Eleanor laughed at the disgruntled look on Cynthia's face. Apparently she'd at least attempted to give the Countess' butler an order and it hadn't gone very well. "He didn't listen to Wesley either, before he became the Earl, if that makes you feel any better," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Besides, he'll likely stay with the Countess. I can't imagine her being agreeable to letting him go."

Cynthia immediately perked up. "So we'll have a different butler?"

"Yes, I imagine he's probably at either Spencer House in London or out on the estates right now," Eleanor said, giving Cynthia a supportive smile. It couldn't be easy, knowing that she was about to be mistress of a whole horde of servants that she hadn't even m

et yet. At least Eleanor had known most of Edwin's before they were married, and Irene had met quite a few of Hugh's. Not that any of them were as stuffy as Manfred anyway, she knew that Irene had been welcomed with open arms at Stonehaven and Westingdon.

"Oh good. I can deal with someone who doesn't know me, I think," Cynthia said, obviously gaining in confidence already. "Manfred knows me a little too well by now." Her wince made both Irene and Eleanor laugh.

"You could always try behaving," Irene said, although her green eyes were sparkling with amusement.

The saucy smile she got in return left no doubt of Cynthia's opinion on that. "You could always try having some fun," she teased.