Dealing With Discipline Read online

  "We'll be on our way soon enough," he said, taking her hand in his and giving it a kiss. The expression on his face made her think of a child being presented with a plate of sweets... and she was the plate. There seemed to be something more beneath his words than just a reassurance that soon they would be done doing the pretty, but she didn't understand what.

  The warmth of his hand wrapped around her much smaller one seemed to sear her through the thin fabric of her kid gloves, the press of his lips hotter than ever and she felt a strange tingle sweep through her body as his eyes drifted down to the small amount of bosom that was exposed by her wedding gown. Edged with lace and gold threads, the bodice of her white gown hugged her body tightly, much more tightly than she'd realized before this moment when she felt like she might suddenly run out of breath.

  "Now, now, time enough for that after your guests have left," Hugh's mother said chidingly as she stepped to Irene's side, beaming at her new daughter-in-law. Irene had never been more grateful for an interruption; she didn't understand what had just happened between her and her new husband but she had found it incredibly unnerving. Air suddenly filled her lungs again as the intense expression on Hugh’s face slipped behind his usual social mask of complacency. "Come Irene, I want to introduce you to my cousin."

  Obediently Irene allowed Hugh's mother to lead her away, sparing him a small glance over her shoulder, looking both intrigued and hesitant. He grinned at her before turning and striding to the nearest group of well-wishers, immersing himself back into his social duties.

  ******

  "Nice wedding brunch," said Wesley. He and Hugh had scouted out an alcove from which they could watch the activities without having to engage in them. Hugh hated doing the pretty and currently his mother was involved in showing off her new daughter-in-law so she wasn’t there to badger him into it. "Very entertaining."

  They were watching Eleanor lead Edwin on a merry chase around the room. For whatever reason she seemed quite determined not to spend very much time by his side, and he was just as determined to have her there. Unfortunately for him she was quite adept at starting just the right conversation that would mean the person she was talking to would want to engage Edwin in it, allowing her to slip away and join another group of guests. It would take him several minutes to untangle himself without giving offense, and then he'd be off after her again, his face becoming grimmer and harder with every stride he took.

  Hugh and Wesley found it hilarious.

  "Son!"

  They turned to see Baron Standish approaching, a wide-grin on his face. Hugh rather liked the Baron; he was a family man, a good country man, who'd done the best he could for his family and Hugh respected that. Unfortunately the Baron's father had not been so responsible and by the time the title and lands had come to Irene's father they'd also come riddled with debt and neglect. The man had recouped such losses as well as he could, but a year of flooding followed by a disease running rampant through his sheep flock had set him back grossly. Hugh's desire to marry Irene had come at a crucial moment for the family and they all knew it. Although the Baroness seemed to resent the gratitude she had to feel towards Hugh, the Baron treated him as another son. Both being country men at heart they'd found they had quite a bit in common and had already talked about cross-breeding some of their dogs.

  Standish was not a very tall man, almost an entire head shorter than Wesley and Hugh - who were admittedly blessed with long, lean bodies - but he was in very good shape since he spent most of his time outdoors, often on horseback. He was still a fine figure of a man, other than the loss of most of his hair. What was left ringed the crown of his head; despite the hints of gold and red it was obvious that Irene's coloring came from her mother. Fortunately, in Hugh's opinion, her personality had much more of her father in it.

  "I hope you don't mind me calling you that," the older man chuckled. "I can't tell you what a relief, and a pleasure, it is to welcome you to the family." That honest forthrightness was one of the things that Hugh liked best about the man; many amongst the ton would never had admitted to their financial straits, much less expressed gratitude in public for it. Wesley knew all the particulars anyway, being such a close friend of Hugh’s, but many men would have too much pride to say such a thing at all.

  "A pleasure for myself as well," said Hugh, grinning back at him. "And I don't mind at all. Have you met the Earl of Spencer here?" He gestured at Wesley.

  "No, I hadn't," said the Baron, giving Wesley a little bow. "Spencer, my condolences on your father, I was sorry to read of his passing."

  "Thank you," said Wesley, bowing back. "It was a hard time for my family." He didn’t mention that he and his father had been estranged at the time or that the hardship, in Wesley’s opinion, was not over the loss but over the responsibilities that came with assuming the title.

  "You were in India, at the time, were you not?"

  "I was," said Wesley, seeming surprised that the Baron knew, considering that the families were not previously acquainted.

  Standish smiled disarmingly. "You came up fairly often in conversation with Hugh here," he said, by way of explanation. "Did you enjoy your travels? I always wanted to see more of the world, but with one thing and another... not that Caroline was ever interested in going farther than London." He chuckled indulgently.

  Personally Hugh didn't see how the amiable and personable Standish could bear to spend any time with his social climbing, judgmental and icy wife, but to each his own. On the outside Irene might seem all closed up like her mother, especially when she was first introduced to someone, but she warmed up quite quickly and he was more than a little aware of the hot passion that was buried just beneath the surface. Just a touch was enough to set her simmering, although he was quite sure that she didn't entirely understand her responses. He hoped that with a little coaxing her passion would flare as brightly as her vibrant hair.

  The conversation between Standish and Wesley flowed past him as he looked around the room, searching for the bright red hair of his new bride. Since she was the eldest and tallest of her sisters, and the only one dressed in shimmering white and gold, he found her almost immediately. She was facing Hugh and talking to another man, laughing actually, and Hugh felt a violent fission of jealousy lance through him. If she was talking so freely with the man she must know him well enough to feel comfortable; she was not the type to be so relaxed around a mere acquaintance. Unfortunately he couldn’t see who it was because the man’s back was to him, but he looked well dressed and his hair was a dark auburn, almost brown. Perhaps he was a relation.

  Not wanting to look like the jealous bridegroom that he was, especially if the man turned out to be a cousin, Hugh turned to his new father-in-law and waited for a break in the conversation.

  As soon as it came, he pounced. “Excuse me gentlemen, Standish, I was wondering, who is that talking to Irene over there?” He nodded his head in their direction. “A cousin? I didn’t recognize him.”

  Standish craned his neck, not having the advantage of height, as Wesley turned to look as well.

  “Ah… oh that must be Alex. Lord Brooke, that is, Warwick’s heir, and our neighbor on the other side. His mother is quite close with Caroline, so he and Irene practically grew up together. He’s been like a big brother to her since she was born, looked out for her while they were growing up and such; I’m sure she’s quite relieved he managed to come in town for the wedding, he hasn’t been in London for a while.”

  As soon as he heard Brooke’s name, Hugh relaxed a trifle. They were acquainted. Not well acquainted, but they’d met and he knew Brooke was a good man despite the… ah… circumstances with his wife. Well that explained why Eleanor’s friend Grace wasn’t here at least, he’d been wondering about that because he knew that she’d been invited. Grace’s mother was here, being bosom friends with his own mother, but Lady Grace would never deign to step foot in the same event as her husband if she could help it.

  Brooke was a rake, true, bu
t he never dallied with other men’s wives. Widows, actresses, a few select members of the demimonde, but perhaps his own marital circumstances had soured him on accepting another man’s wife into his bed.

  Besides, the way Standish made it sound, they were like Wesley and Eleanor. Of course, Edwin and Eleanor had turned out rather differently. Controlling himself, Hugh turned back to his father-in-law, determined not to become a jealous bridegroom. It was good that Irene’s almost brother could come to their wedding.

  Chapter 2

  “You make a beautiful bride,” Alex said, smiling down at her. Irene loved the way his eyes glowed when he looked at her, the special smile that he reserved for her. He didn’t smile nearly enough, but he always smiled at her. So what if he didn’t look at her hungrily like Hugh did? She wasn’t sure she liked the way Hugh looked at her anyway. It rather unnerved her.

  “Thank you,” she said earnestly, truly smiling herself for the first time that day. When Alex looked at her she could almost forget everything else in the world. Like the fact that he was married to someone else and now so was she.

  Alex had always been her knight in shining armor, her hero. She had no doubt that if he’d known of their family’s financial situation that he would have waited to marry her. Her whole life Alex had always been everything that was good and kind, he had not only tolerated her following him around, he’d included her in whatever he was doing. Tall, handsome with his dark reddish hair and dancing, warm brown eyes, she’d been in love with him since she was a little girl. How could she not have been?

  Then he’d gone away to school when she was sixteen, before she’d really grown into a young woman even though at the time she’d felt like one, and by the time she’d seen him again, he’d already married Lady Grace. Look how that turned out. The smiling young man she’d known had disappeared, replaced by a cold stranger… except for when he was with her, talking to her. Then he turned back into Alex. Irene was good for him, she knew she was. Who else did he always have a smile for? Who else could make him laugh? Since his marriage she had seen no one else who was able to do so.

  If only he’d waited for her, she would have made him the perfect wife. After all he was the perfect man and he deserved nothing less.

  But she would try to be a good wife to Hugh, she truly would… but in her heart she knew that she would be waiting for the day when she had given Hugh his heir and his spare and then she could follow her heart’s desire. Although she’d been wary of her mother’s insistence that this arrangement would work, now, looking at Alex, she felt in her heart that it would turn out fine. More than fine. Wonderfully. They could not be together as man and wife but they would be together in another way eventually.

  “I’m so glad you could come today,” she said feelingly. “It means so much to me that you’re here to support me.” What she really meant was that it meant so much to her to be able to see him at all, to know that he cared.

  “Of course, pet,” he said with a chuckle, reaching out to take her hand in his. Warmth suffused her, a burst of love and affection as he touched her. When they were younger he’d called her ‘pet’ because some of the other boys had teased her for following him around like a puppy dog. Alex had been the one to show her how to take the sting out of their taunts by embracing the idea, making it a special joke between them, turning it into a good thing. He didn’t call anyone else in the world ‘pet,’ it was her own special nickname - and since coming to London she knew that it was occasionally used by other men as an endearment. Actually she hadn’t heard him call anyone else by any other kind of nickname or endearment either. It thrilled her to hear Alex call her that now, reassuring her that she hadn’t lost his affection just because she was now married. Obviously her mother had been right! “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Although I doubt you need much support, your new husband seems like a good man.”

  “You’ve met him before?”

  “On occasion, usually outside of London. He’s a bruising rider. You two have a lot in common.”

  Such an observation surprised Irene, although most of her conversations with Hugh had included some discussion of life in the country. Still, she hadn’t realized that Alex would be considering her compatibility with another man.

  “Alex.” The woman’s voice was low, husky, and seductive, cutting across what would have been Irene’s reply. The kind of voice that Irene couldn’t imitate even if she practiced it. “What a surprise.” Alex stiffened immediately, a dark look crossing his face.

  Irene felt herself withdrawing, sinking into herself, as Alex turned his head to look down his nose at the elegant woman standing beside them. She was older than Irene, obviously closer to Alex’s age, and a raving beauty. Long black hair, creamy skin, and a shocking expanse of bosom showing for a morning wedding; in fact, she looked quite a bit like Alex’s wife in a superficial manner. From her time in Society Irene recognized Lady Winifred March, a widow whom she only knew of because she was rumored to be Alex’s latest mistress. Here, at her wedding.

  For a moment she felt outraged and hurt, betrayed, but that was nothing compared to the storminess that had darkened Alex’s face.

  “It shouldn’t be, as I told you I informed you I would be here when I saw you last week,” he said in a low angry voice, one that Irene had only heard him use rarely. It made her shiver, but Lady March just stood there provocatively, leaning forward as if to give him a glimpse further down her ample bosom. “I believe I recall asking you not to come.”

  Lady March pouted at him. Did the woman not realize how displeased Alex was by her presence? Did she think he was playing a game? Obviously, no matter how… intimate their relationship, Lady March didn’t know him as well as Irene did. That thought filled her heart with a small surge of warmth, bolstering her despite the situation. She watched, fascinated by this display between the two of them. Never before had she been so close to a man having any kind of interaction with his rumored mistress – rumors that were obviously true – much less between Alex and his paramour.

  “I didn’t think you meant it,” the lady purred, leaning closer to brush her chest against his arm.

  Half disgusted, half fascinated, Irene couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight. Was this what men wanted? Despite Alex’s icy demeanor he was still looking at the woman’s bosom. By comparison Irene’s own bosom felt very modestly covered and not nearly ample enough.

  “I did. You received your conge, madam, and I have no further need of you.”

  With that he turned his back deliberately and stalked away. Lady March sniffed in affront before turning and stalking in the other direction leaving Irene standing alone. Both of them seemed to have forgotten her presence, which might have upset Irene more if she hadn’t known how very angry Alex had been made by his ex-mistress’ presumption.

  “What are you doing?” her mother’s voice hissed into her ear, fingers suddenly digging into the soft flesh of her upper arm hard enough to make her squeal. “Why did you stand there like a ninny?! Bad enough that you were flaunting yourself in front of Lord Brooke, looking at him like you’re a lost little lamb, but to continue standing here that woman… with her reputation…” Mother was practically sputtering she was so upset, but looking around the room no one else seemed to have noticed they altercation. Only Hugh was looking her way and he gave her a supportive little smile that made her heart beat a little faster. The man truly was too good looking for his own good, and she couldn’t help but feel a little surge of pleasure that he was looking at her when there were beautiful women like Lady March about.

  If only he could save her from her mother.

  “Do not embarrass us.” The fingers dug in and Irene bit her lip. There would be bruises tomorrow. Despite her pale skin she actually didn’t bruise very easily, but her mother’s digging nails and bony fingers would surely leave a mark. The fabric of her dress wasn’t nearly strong enough to guard her skin against the sharp pinch. “Stay away from Lord Brooke. When you have
given Hugh his heir and spare, then you can act the whore for Brooke, but not before.”

  The words stung and Irene gasped at being called a whore by her own mother, but there was nothing she could do. She knew from past experience that trying to deny her mother’s accusations or defend herself would only result in further unpleasantness. Practically dragging her, her mother sat her down in a chair next to Eleanor who was looking rather sulky and glaring across the room at her husband. Unsurprisingly, he was now standing with Hugh and their friend the Earl of Spencer enjoying their conversation, but she could see his eyes continuously roaming over to land on his wife. Who glared all the harder every time he did so.

  “La, my daughter is feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the excitement,” her mother trilled with false cheeriness. “Would you mind if she joined you, Lady Hyde?” Without waiting for an answer she deposited Irene in the chair beside Eleanor, turned and floated off to find her friends again. Eleanor and Irene looked at each other.

  “I’m sorry,” said Irene, rubbing her forehead as she fought down the tears that were burning at the backs of her eyes. Sometimes she wondered if her mother meant to be cruel or if she was ignorant of how damaging her words could be. “If you don’t wish for company I can sit elsewhere.”

  “No, join me,” Eleanor said, her eyes returning to her husband for a moment. They couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other apparently, although Eleanor didn’t look entirely pleased at the moment. Actually she looked rather wary. “Was that Lord Brooke I saw you talking to?”

  “Yes,” said Irene absently, rubbing her arm where her mother had pinched the skin. “We grew up together.” She found her gaze following Eleanor’s to the three men across the room. They really were quite breathtaking as a group. Hugh looked up and their eyes met, a tingle went down her skin and she shivered and looked away.