Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1) Read online

  Hugh shook his head. "And you're looking forward to whatever mad little scheme she has going through her head? You're a braver man than I."

  "I daresay you'll find that disciplining your wife is quite a different matter than your sister." The gleam in Edwin's eye made it clear exactly what he meant by that and Hugh gave a small shudder.

  "Just remember that your wife is my sister and I don't want to hear any details."

  They both laughed, but there wasn't any real vehemence in Hugh's voice. After all, he'd had occasion to discipline Eleanor when she'd been living beneath her father's roof, as it was good practice for once he was running his own household. But there was no denying that family feeling would make it a much less erotic exercise than Edwin enjoyed with her.

  “Besides,” said Hugh amiably, “I sincerely doubt that Miss Chandler will ever require anything in the way of correction. She’s a practically a paragon of good behavior.”

  "And how goes your own courtship?" asked Edwin curiously. "Will you be joining me in matrimonial bliss shortly?"

  Snorting, Hugh took a sip of his brandy. "The idea that being married to Eleanor would produce matrimonial bliss..." He shook his head wonderingly as Edwin grinned and raised his own glass in a salute before taking a drink. "But yes, I believe we've come to an arrangement that suits everyone. The announcement should be in the paper this weekend and the date is set for two months from now."

  "I have to admit, I'm rather glad I didn't have to wait, although I know Eleanor would have liked a big wedding."

  "Eleanor would like a lot of things," said Hugh, shaking his head and grinning. "It wouldn't be good for her to get everything she likes."

  "And Miss Chandler? Is she going to get everything she likes?"

  Those little stars flitted into Hugh’s eyes again and Edwin hid his grin. Doubtless Hugh had been up writing abysmal poetry to Miss Chandlers’ eyes again. Fortunately for Miss Chandler Hugh never shared his creative efforts, Edwin and Wesley had happened upon some written for previous ladies and had teased Hugh so relentlessly that he’d never cared to share any again.

  “She’ll be well taken care of. In fact, I can’t wait to start taking care of her. I’m looking forward to the end of the Season where we can retire to the country and rusticate.”

  "Sounds boring." Edwin quite preferred the bustle of town life, something he and Hugh had never managed to agree on. Although, of course, Edwin would visit the country quite often since both his parents and Hugh were out there.

  “From our talks I gather she's a country girl at heart, enjoys spending time outdoors walking and sketching,” said Hugh, ignoring Edwin. “She paints water colors."

  "Don't they all."

  The men laughed. It was true that every second debutante seemed to claim the activity as an accomplishment. Edwin was intrigued that Miss Chandler enjoyed the outdoors though, he had seen her the past few Seasons and she had always seemed to enjoy the balls and glitter of London Society. Then again perhaps such entertainments paled after a few years. A woman who enjoyed the country would be a boon to Hugh; while not quite as anti-social as Edwin's parents, he much preferred spending time in the country, especially if he was looking after his horses.

  "Eleanor always enjoyed the country too, as I recall," said Edwin thoughtfully. "I shall have to ensure that we visit the estates after our honeymoon."

  "Ah, but Eleanor had gotten tired of the country and wanted some town excitement," countered Hugh. "You hadn't seen as much of her the past few years. She can barely talk about anything but fashion and the latest dress she bought and which dress she's going to buy." He rolled his eyes.

  Edwin frowned. Hmm. Had Eleanor talked to him about anything else? Of course, they did spend a fair amount of time engaged in things much more pleasurable than conversation. She did talk about those things of course. But most women did. It certainly didn't bother him the way it apparently bothered her brother.

  "So where are you taking her?" asked Hugh.

  "I was thinking the Manse first," said Edwin thoughtfully. The Manse was where he ran his own estates from, separate from those run by his father the Earl of Clarendon. Speaking of, he should really take Eleanor by to visit his mother and father. He'd already gotten a note from his mother scolding him for not giving them proper notice of his wedding. Not that they would have come into town anyway, his father never came to London if he could help it. Edwin had taken over responsibility for everything that needed to be handled in the city as soon as he’d turned eighteen, his father claiming that it was for his training to be the Earl. Which is partly why he had so much work to do if he was going to be able to get away with his bride in a few weeks.

  "No, no, on your honeymoon," corrected Hugh with a laugh.

  "Oh I was thinking she might enjoy France. The best fashions come from France, so she should like that," he said. Then his mood darkened a little as he remembered the ridiculous sum he'd paid for Eleanor's new wardrobe last week. Maybe not France. He certainly didn't feel like buying her anything more to add to the pile of new dresses. Not that he'd seen one yet, they were still being constructed he supposed.

  His hand itched to spank her all over again.

  ******

  Edwin's hand continued to itch the night of the dinner party. In fact it burned. His wife was wearing one of her new dresses and she'd been clever enough not to show herself until the first of the guests were arriving, at which point she came rushing in all apologetic. Of course he would not have minded her tardiness under normal circumstances, as this was her first time hostessing even a small dinner party, and she'd been very busy all day with the last minute preparations, but he could tell from the faint hint of defiance in her expression that she had done so on purpose so that he could not force her to go upstairs and change.

  The dress was a rich ruby red that looked quite nice with her rosy complexion and honey blonde hair, even if it didn't do anything to bring out her eyes, and it was scandalously low-cut without even a lace fichu to provide some modestly. The dramatic lines of the dress made it cling to her curves, showing far more of her figure than any decent woman should, married or not. It was the kind of dress that he would love to see her wear in private, just for him, so that he could peel it off of her slowly, after kissing every inch of delicious skin that it revealed. Instead she was wearing it for her first evening as a hostess.

  Not only was he furious at her indecency he felt rather humiliated as well. Fortunately the dinner party was so small that none of the biggest gossips were invited to see his bride's sartorial mistake. Tongues would still wag but the knowledge would be second or third hand for the most part. There was nothing he could do but smile grimly at his arriving guests and greet them, pretending that his wife didn't look more like a ladybird than a proper Countess. Lord Harrington gave him a sharp look, but the small nod that he gave to Edwin indicated that he understood the younger man's position. Indeed, there was almost a glint of relief in his eyes that Eleanor was now Edwin's problem to deal with and not his. The look that he gave his daughter still made her squirm however.

  Her brother was not quite so circumspect.

  "Good gads, Nell, what are you wearing?" he gasped. Fortunately there was a lull in arrivals and no one overheard his comment, he'd managed to force his voice down to a whisper despite his shock, his face heating with the same embarrassment and outrage that Edwin was feeling. "You look like a bleeding light skirt!"

  Eleanor gasped in indignation, drawing herself upwards, which had the unfortunate effect of causing her breasts to swell upwards and Edwin had to restrain himself from whipping off his jacket and covering her right then and there.

  "Don't do that," Hugh hissed at her, his eyes darting wildly around. "You're about to pop out of that dress. I can't believe you wore that."

  "You sound like a nagging old prune," Eleanor hissed back at him. "I never took you for a prude."

  "I never took you for a -"

  "Hugh," Edwin's voice interrupted them
, calmly, firmly. The siblings both straightened, they hadn't even realized that they'd leaned forward for their hissing conversation. "My wife and I will be discussing it later."

  The expression on Hugh's face said that he hadn't been expecting reproach from his friend. For a moment Eleanor almost felt something like triumph over her brother and gratitude at Edwin for stepping in, but then the import of his words struck her. He wasn't defending her right to wear whatever kind of dress she wanted, he was asserting his right to rebuke her for it! Clenching her tiny fists into her skirts she decided to ignore both of them, turning her head away and pasting a smile on her face as another pair of guests arrived - her friend Grace Greville on the arm of one of the ton's most notorious rakes, Lord Conyngham. Scandal itself, considering that so far Grace had not given her husband, Lord Brooke, an heir before taking a lover. He had lovers as well, but the ton whispered about Lady Grace because she had not done her duty.

  Eleanor didn’t care. Grace’s mother was a good friend of Eleanor’s mother and so the two girls had often been thrown together when they were younger, resulting in a firm friendship. They had not been able to keep up the acquaintance as much after Grace had been married to Lord Brooke during her first Season but now that Eleanor was also married they would be able to spend more time together. It suddenly occurred to her that if she were to live apart from her husband without first providing him with an heir that she would garner much of the same reproach that Grace had. Because of her family she was still invited to all the events except by the highest steppers of the ton, and surely Eleanor would be as well. Especially since she had no intention of taking lovers.

  As they approached Hugh nodded his head at Edwin and disappeared into the drawing room where the other guests were gathered. Soon she and Edwin would join them, Grace and Lord Conyngham were the last to arrive.

  Because Grace was her friend, Eleanor made the introductions, trying to ignore the way Conyngham's eyes lingered over her bosom. Under his predatory gaze she felt distinctly undressed and not at all comfortable. No one else had eyed her in such a way, although she quite suddenly realized that no one else would have dared. They were all either close friends of Edwin’s or married to one of her close friends or one of their family members. If this had been a larger dinner party or a ball there would have been more than Conyngham's eyes roving over her assets. Beside her Edwin seemed to stiffen even more, if that was possible. Too much to hope that he hadn't noticed the way Conyngham was looking at her.

  So had Grace unfortunately.

  "My Eleanor... that is quite a dress," the other lady said. With her raven's wing hair and bright blue eyes, Grace had been considered a Diamond of the First Water upon her debut, and she looked quite splendid in blue silk with a silvery overlay. She also had a higher neckline than Eleanor did. Previously Eleanor had always envied those ladies with those necklines, thinking that they must be considered the most beautiful, the most desirable ladies. Now, seeing the way her husband was eying Grace with approval and feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the attention she seemed to have garnered from Conyngham, she was starting to think that perhaps her father had had a point about more demure necklines. Grace smiled brilliantly up at Edwin, making Eleanor bristle a little. "I'm sure that Lord Villiers quite appreciates its... charms."

  The tone of her voice said what her words glossed over - in effect that she was dressed like a tart. Coming from Grace, who was currently one of the most scandalous ladies amongst the ton, Eleanor felt that was a little much. She had forgotten how sharp Grace could be. It's not as if Eleanor was trying to poach Conyngham after all, she certainly didn't appreciate him looking at her like she was a dessert that he would very much like to nibble.

  "I appreciate all of Eleanor's charms," said Edwin, his voice quiet but entirely sincere. "And she has very many."

  Grace blinked a little, sensing the light rebuke beneath his words, before putting on her most charming smile and commenting that she'd heard Lady Lucas, another of their friends, was also attending the dinner tonight. The conversation shifted as Eleanor and Edwin led the way to the drawing room, her hand securely on her husband's arm. Somehow the dress that she'd been so excited about purchasing and wearing felt like a dismal failure. Next to Grace's elegant beauty she felt tawdry and disenchanted. It was a disheartening experience to feel like a tart when standing next to a woman who was being so brazenly unfaithful to her husband. Not that there was anything unusual about that in their social class (other than Lord Brooke’s lack of heir), but Eleanor had also just come to the startling realization that she couldn't imagine sharing intimacies with anyone but Edwin.

  Perhaps such intimacies weren't truly meant for her in that case. There were plenty of women who lived without a husband or lover and had perfectly happy lives. Flitting her glance around their table, Eleanor wondered how many of the couples seated there had happy marriages. She knew that her mother was utterly in love with her father, but she discounted that particular marriage because she had no idea how her father felt about her mother other than he used her mother's love to dictate exactly how their household would be run and how her mother would live her life. The other couples... Miss Chandler's parents eyed each other with barely concealed disdain, Grace had her rake and her husband was probably off somewhere with his mistress, her friend Lady Patience had her husband Lord Roger Moore firmly under her thumb although he also had a mistress... and Edwin's other acquaintances were still bachelors. She'd made up for their uneven numbers by inviting her friend Miss Matilda Brething who had come with her mother. Mr. Brething was out of town. Probably with his mistress as well.

  The entire situation made Eleanor feel rather miserable as she faced the fact that she didn't particularly like the idea of Edwin having a mistress. And yet unless she was willing to perform her wifely duties he would certainly go looking for one. Even if she did perform her wifely duties he might still go looking for one. For all she knew he already had one.

  No... she thought, studying him opposite her at the table. No she didn't think he would be the type to still have a mistress so near to his wedding, not at the beginning of the marriage. Besides, when would he have the time? He was either working or in her bed, making her forget why she wanted, needed, to get away.

  The best thing she could do was keep on with her plan. Obviously her emotions were becoming far too entangled. Any more of this and she’d end up like her mother, so in love that she'd do whatever her husband said and forgive anything he did. Did her father have a mistress? If so he was very discreet. The other women around the table might not have the happiest marriages, but they were happy in other parts of their lives. From what Eleanor could see, love only made a person weak and she was determined to be strong.

  Besides, after tonight she doubted her husband would want anything to do with her anyway.

  Pasting a brilliant smile on her face, she started up a conversation with Lord Moore, who was seated to her right. Her father was on her left but he was already speaking in earnest with Mrs. Brething about Mr. Brething's horses. As the first course was brought in she kept her eye on Edwin, wondering when he'd realize what she'd done.

  Chapter 6

  Edwin was going to kill his wife. Slowly. Painfully.

  Their party was four courses into dinner and he was starving.

  He remembered with clarity the exact moment of his downfall, last week when she'd suddenly started acting amenable after a long conversation about his favorite dishes and those that he disliked. There was an astonishing lack of any of the former and a superfluity of the latter. Even those dishes he did enjoy, such as a good fish, had been rendered inedible to him by the mustard sauce. He hated mustard. She must have directed the chef to slather it on.

  Mostly he'd pushed his food around on his plate, forced himself to take a few bites for politeness sake (and also because he was so hungry that even creamed turnips were starting to look appealing) and concentrated on entertaining his guests. Also on trying to keep the f
urious glitter from his eyes. He could see Eleanor watching him out of the corner of his eye but he refused to look at her. If he did he wouldn't be able to hide how furious he was with her.

  Instead he concentrated on getting to know Miss Chandler better, a task made more difficult by the fact that it was becoming increasingly obvious that she and Eleanor's friend Lady Grace were acquainted and they did not enjoy each other's company. Personally, he didn't particularly enjoy Lady Grace's company either but he hadn't made the seating arrangements so he was stuck with her for now. The sly barbs that she'd tried to stick into Eleanor at the beginning of the evening had seemed to be just momentary female jealousy over the fact that her escort had been eying Eleanor's charms - which hadn't made him pleased with Conyngham either and even less pleased with Eleanor for giving him the opportunity.

  It was obvious that Grace was used to having male attention focused on her although surely she'd shared with Eleanor in the past. The two of them set each other off beautifully with Grace's midnight hair against the sunlight golden strands of Eleanor's, the startlingly pale sky blue of Grace's eyes that looked almost violet to Eleanor's brighter sapphires. But Grace didn't seem to have the inner sweetness under the hard outer shell that he knew Eleanor possessed. While Eleanor might play at being a pampered spoiled brat there was much more to her beneath that; Grace was all crystalline hard edges, corrupted power... would this be what Eleanor could have become after a season of being labeled a Diamond of the First Water, with countless men falling at her feet and fighting to win her hand? Edwin was fervently grateful that he'd married Nell before she could become jaded and he had no intention of allowing her to do so now.

  "Miss Chandler, I've been meaning to wish you happy on your engagement to the Viscount," Lady Grace said, but even the smile she graced upon Miss Chandler seemed to have a hard edge. Miss Chandler gripped her fork unnecessarily hard, Edwin noted, but showed no other reaction. "It must be such a relief to you and your family."