Claiming His Wife Page 5

  So Eleanor completely understood Grace's confusion over Alex's current behavior. Indeed, Eleanor had been quite confused when she'd first met Lord Brooke, because he hadn't seemed at all the monster that Grace had always made him out to be. Even after she'd found out why Grace had estranged herself from him, Eleanor hadn't seen that kind of uncaring husband in his behavior. When she'd been quite rude to him, out of loyalty to her friend, he'd asked Edwin not to punish her too harshly, because he admired that loyalty.

  From what Grace was telling her now, Lord Brooke's behavior was certainly not that of a man who had no finer feelings for his wife. Even now, he'd asked Eleanor to come in on Grace's behalf, rather than trying to isolate and intimidate her.

  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.

  Chapter 4

  "You like being spanked?"

  Irene's hopes to see more of Cynthia's reputed misdeeds over tea were coming to fruition with a vengeance. The brazen hussy didn't seem to have any idea of what was appropriate conversation for tea.

  Not that Eleanor was helping to curb her at all. She seemed completely unaffected by Cynthia's overly familiar queries and her determined snubbing of social niceties. The young woman was dressed prettily, looking every inch the proper young lady, but after fifteen minutes of general chatting about the weather, Cynthia had turned to Irene and asked if her husband spanked her too. Which had made Lady Grace sit up, coming out of her silent reverie, and blinking her wide blue eyes with astonishment.

  Up until that moment, Irene had been just a bit worried about the other woman. She'd shown up for tea unexpectedly, but had barely said a word after everyone had exchanged greetings and she'd been introduced to Cynthia. Irene had wanted to ask how Alex had convinced her to accompany him to Bath, but a surreptitious head shake from Eleanor had her holding her tongue. It became quickly obvious that Grace wasn't happy about her relocation out of London, as she had been basically been lost in her own thoughts until Cynthia's completely indiscreet and inappropriate question.

  When Irene had looked to Eleanor for help, her sister-in-law had already shrugged and given her a significant look, as if to say 'well, you wanted to see the real hoyden.' Irene had answered, rather stiffly, by just nodding her head, which had led to Cynthia's second question - did Irene find it enjoyable? Irene had immediately said of course not, causing Cynthia to theorize that perhaps Hugh didn’t do it correctly. That had motivated Irene’s shocked query.

  "Well, not always," Cynthia said boldly. For her part, she was rather enjoying the aghast looks on the other women's faces. Well, on Irene and Grace's, anyway. Eleanor was already inured to Cynthia's more brazen starts, she just calmly sipped her tea, although two spots of color high in her cheeks indicated that she wasn't entirely unaffected by the indecent line of conversation. "The Earl's hand is very hard... but there is something quite exciting about it, isn't there?"

  Irene sputtered, and Cynthia had to stifle a giggle. With flaming hair like that, she'd assumed Irene would be more volatile and less prim, but that wasn't the case at all. If anything, she was the most uptight of all the ladies in the room. Even Lady Grace looked more curious than condemning.

  "What about birchings? The Earl threatened me with that the other day... what's it like?" she asked.

  Eleanor coughed and Irene looked as though she might faint. Grace just shook her head immediately and then looked at the other two, as it became quite clear that both of them had endured such a thing. The delicate blush on Eleanor's cheeks had heightened to a bright pink, and Irene's hands were beginning to tremble so badly that she had to put her teacup down.

  "How can you even think something like that might be enjoyable?" Irene asked, practically glaring at Cynthia.

  For the first time in days, Grace felt like truly smiling. While she and Irene were on much better terms now, she couldn't help but enjoy the other woman's discomfiture. It was quite nice not to be the most scandalous lady in the room. Cynthia might be young, but Grace already liked her quite a bit. Given a bit of polish, Cynthia would have been every bit as popular in London as Grace had been herself; having met her, Grace wasn't at all surprised that the Earl of Spencer had snapped her up for himself. They were two Originals, and a free spirit like Cynthia would suit the wild Earl down to the ground.

  "I don't recommend it," Eleanor replied, less vehemently, giving Irene an amused look. "Sometimes Edwin... well, he makes spanking almost nice. I don't think that's possible with a birching."

  "Nice?" chorused Irene and Grace together, in matching tones of bewilderment. Eleanor's flush brightened even further, but her hand was steady on her tea cup. There was no danger of spilling even a drop onto the delicate blue and white damask of her skirt.

  "When it's not a punishment," Eleanor said stoutly. Like Cynthia, she was finding her own enjoyment in being able to shock her friends. After all, she was well aware that Irene would be disciplined by Hugh for misbehavior, and Cynthia had already confided in Eleanor about her own experiences. Grace hadn't seemed at all condemning over Cynthia's revelations, which had bolstered Eleanor's confidence in sharing her own secrets. "Sometimes we just do it for fun."

  Now even Cynthia looked thunderstruck, not to mention more than a little intrigued. "You mean, you don't have to get in trouble to earn a spanking?"

  "You try to be spanked?" Irene asked the younger woman, before Eleanor could answer. She looked as though she was getting a headache, trying to assimilate all these new ideas.

  Cynthia rolled her expressive brown eyes; the smile on her face was pure mischief as she continued to twit Irene. "Of course... I like it, remember?" Then her expression changed, as she wrinkled her nose. "I didn't like being belted so much..." Although, she had found great pleasure afterwards. But she wasn't going to bring up the particulars of that encounter. It took quite a bit to embarrass her, but she wasn't ready to ask the other women if they'd ever been punished inside their bottoms.

  That was too new of an experience for even her to be brazen about.

  "Belted?" Irene whispered, looking horrified. "He belted you?"

  Nodding, Cynthia smiled sweetly. "When I snuck into his bedroom and tried to seduce him."

  Grace burst out laughing, quickly setting her teacup down on the table so that it didn't spill. The laughter looked much more natural on her face than the forlorn expression she'd been wearing for most of the morning, so Cynthia was glad. Her own eyes sparkled merrily. She might not be an acknowledged beauty like Eleanor or Grace, but both of them seemed to like her. Irene was too polite to be rude, even if she was scandalized, but she didn't seem to dislike Cynthia, for all her disapproval.

  They were a diverse group, not just in looks, but also in temperament. Despite Grace's maudlin demeanor when she'd first been introduced, Cynthia recognized the spark and fire of a fellow troublemaker in her. The same spark that she'd felt from Eleanor. Irene would be the one to keep them toeing the line, she was sure. Shocking her was quite a bit of fun, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that Cynthia wasn't the only one who felt so. The Countess would probably approve whole-heartedly of Irene as a calming influence on Cynthia. For herself, Cynthia wondered if the prim redhead, with her aura of innocence, might be corruptible.

  "But you aren't married yet!" Irene said, sounding exasperated, as if she had no idea what Cynthia had been thinking.

  "But we will be soon," she countered. "He'd already touched me anyway, after spanking me in the carriage. What difference could it make?"

  "Now I know where Alex is getting his ideas from." The unexpected statement from Grace had all three women looking at her curiously. She hadn't spoken loudly, but her words had dropped into silence while Irene had been absorbing Cynthia's logic and Eleanor had been watching Irene with amusement. Seeing them all staring at her, Grace felt a blush rising in her own cheeks.

  Listening to the other women talk about their own experiences had been quite a relief. She'd managed not to think about her first spanking for the past few days, although she'd also avoided earning another one. Being put over Alex's knee again, so intimately exposed to him, and so horribly vulnerable afterwards, was not something she would repeat by choice.

  Especially right now. She knew very well that Hugh was in l
ove with his wife, and that Edwin was as well - no matter what Nell thought. It followed that the third member of their triumvirate would also marry for something other than convenience. All of the men spanked their wives, not maliciously, but because they cared enough to correct their behavior. In Eleanor's case, it sounded like sometimes it happened for other reasons as well. When she'd first set out to estrange herself from Alex, she'd felt sure that she would drive him away; it would be a much easier way to handle a wife once she was no longer convenient anymore.

  Instead, he had tracked her down, announced his intention to reconcile, and when she'd insulted and cursed at him, he hadn't shut her out or hit her... he'd spanked her.

  Grace felt more brutally confused than ever to think that her broken marriage had something common with the loving ones of her friends.

  "Alex spanked you?" Irene asked looking horrified. She shook her head, her voice dropping to a mere murmur as her green eyes unfocused, as if she was looking at something only she could see. "I didn't really think he would... not even after..."

  "After what?" Grace asked, both curious as to what Irene was referring and eager to turn the conversation away from herself.

  Blinking, Irene looked almost surprised that she'd spoken out loud. For all the blushing that the ladies had been doing over tea, none of them rivaled the bright pink color that Irene's face turned now. It clashed horribly with her hair. Her eyes darted around to the other two ladies, but both of them were just as curious as Grace was.

  "Hugh showed Alex how to spank me," Irene whispered, her face turning nearly scarlet as a tomato. Grace's jaw dropped, Eleanor groaned and Cynthia looked enthralled. “Several weeks ago.”