Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1) (8 page)

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.

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 furious 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."

The
slight paling of Miss Chandler's face made Edwin want to step in and save her
but he couldn't help but feel that was Hugh's duty to protect his future bride
from the sly reminder of the Chandler's financial situation. Unfortunately
Hugh's attention was being taken up by Mrs. Chandler, who seemed to feel it her
duty to keep her future son-in-law conversationally entertained. Going by the
look on Hugh's face he probably would have preferred it if she
hadn't.  

"Thank
you, Lady Brook," said Miss Chandler. Although her looks weren't to
Edwin's taste, he had to admit she had the most amazing emerald eyes, right now
they looked hard as diamonds as she tilted her head upwards to meet Lady
Grace's gaze.  "I appreciate hearing it from you personally, although
Al- Lord Brook had already wished us happy on behalf of you both."

Conyngham
choked on his wine and Lady Grace looked like she might actually leap across
the table at Miss Chandler. Mentioning Grace’s husband was almost
guaranteed to send her flying across the handle. And had Miss Chandler almost
referred to him by his Christian name?  If so it must mean that she knew him
well, was perhaps even close friends.  Brooke’s lands were near to her family’s
estate after all. Why on earth had Eleanor seated these two anywhere near each
other? Unless she didn't know... it was possible that the guilty look on her
face was just for starving him, not for both starving him and giving him
miserable company. There were undercurrents between these two women that
threatened to disrupt the entire dinner party if he didn't do something to stop
them now. 

"And
I'm pleased to welcome you to the family," he said cheerfully, cutting the
tension as best he could with false brevity. "Not just because Eleanor's
my wife. Hugh and I have been like brothers for years.  Has he told you
about the time we tried to make a pig's bladder explode in his tutor's
closet?"

"No,"
said Miss Chandler, turning her wide green eyes to him. There wasn't any real
interest in her face, but that hadn't been the point anyway.

"Edwin,
don't you dare or I'll tell her about the time you tried to convince Eleanor
the house was haunted," Hugh threatened. As Edwin had expected, the mere
mention of the bladder incident had garnered Hugh's attention away from Mrs.
Chandler and back to paying proper attention to Miss Chandler, which meant that
Edwin could get back to focusing on ways to kill his wife. 

With a
little wave, he summoned one of the footmen over.

"What's
the next course?"

"Beef
rubbed with pepper and mustard seeds -"

Edwin
shook his head, cutting the man off and sending him back to his place. His wife
was going to have a red hot bottom to match her dress tonight.

********

Although she did her
best to avoid her husband Eleanor didn't move quite quickly enough as the women
headed to the drawing room to leave the men to retreat to the library and their
cigars and port.  She let out a little squeak as her husband gripped her
upper arm, pulling her into one of the hallway alcoves as the rest of the
ladies tittered and chattered their way to the other room. 

"I'm
sorry," she said immediately, gasping for air as the shock of how quickly
he'd caught her reverberated through her. The words came automatically as she
realized she was a bit frightened; no matter how angry he might be it wasn’t
like Edwin to ignore the rules of proper behavior, not with an audience.  Had
she pushed him farther than she’d meant to?

"If you're not
now, you will be later," he said a little grimly. "But that's not why
I'm here."

"It's not?"
she asked, relaxing a little bit, but then she looked up into his hooded dark
eyes and realized that she shouldn't have relaxed at all.  All signs said
danger
. 
There was no heat in Edwin's eyes, not of passion or anger, just icy coldness
that seemed to slice right through her to the bone.  Never before had she
seen him look at her like that, as if she was a stranger.

"What's going on
between Lady Grace and Miss Chandler?"

"Going on?"
she echoed. For a moment the heat of anger flared in Edwin's eyes and she
realized that it sounded like she was prevaricating.  Shaking her head she
tried to think. "I don't know, I didn't even know they were acquainted.
Are you sure there's something going on?"

The tight hold his
fingers had around her arm relaxed a little bit as he studied her face, seeing
the honesty.  Of course Eleanor could lie when she needed to, but he'd
taken her by such surprise that her expression was completely open.

"There's
definitely something going on," he said, his voice still rather grim.
"Keep them away from each other. And we
will
be having a discussion
about this evening’s dinner later tonight."

And then he let her
go. Shaken but knowing that she needed to attend to her guests, Eleanor hurried
away to the drawing room where she found that Grace had seated herself on the
settee speaking with Eleanor's mother and Mrs. and Miss Brething, while Mrs.
and Miss Chandler were conversing closer to the fireplace with Lady Moore.
Wondering what Edwin had thought was the problem, Eleanor went to join Lady
Grace's circle first. 

The idle chatter
about the latest fashion plates should have taken up most of her attention,
normally she adored talking fashion - especially with Grace who always looked
absolutely divine, but the conversation just reminded her of the dress she was
currently wearing. Indeed, as the discussion continued she became more and more
aware of her mother's and Mrs. Brething's disapproving glances at her neckline,
accompanied by Matilda's wide-eyed occasional stares and blushes.  Eleanor
was quite sure that Matilda was picturing herself in a similar dress. 
Color rose in Eleanor's cheeks as she decided that she'd entertained these
ladies long enough and quietly slipped away to join the other circle, holding
her head high.

Lady Moore was
holding forth about her husband's latest horse purchase, which seemed to
interest Mrs. Chandler quite a bit and Miss Chandler not at all.  And yet
Miss Chandler seemed perfectly content to sit and listen to the older matron's
conversation rather than joining the other circle and discussing fashion. 
Perhaps there
was
something going on between Miss Chandler and Lady
Grace, Eleanor couldn't imagine any other reason that Miss Chandler would still
be sitting here.

"So we're to be
sisters," she said brightly, after exchanging the usual
pleasantries.  The two older ladies had quickly delved back into their
conversation, allowing Eleanor the opportunity to speak a little aside to Miss
Chandler. "Have you started planning the wedding yet?"

"Oh yes, thank
you for asking Lady Hyde." said Miss Chandler rather shyly. "My
mother speaks of nothing else these days."

"Please, call me
Eleanor," she said impulsively reaching out and taking Miss Chandler's
hand. "There's no need to stand on ceremony when we're going to be sisters
soon."

"Then you must
call me Irene," said Miss Chandler, but Eleanor didn't miss the way
Irene's eyes slid over to Grace for a moment before returning to Eleanor. Was
she worried that Grace had said something about her?  "I always
wanted a sister closer to my age."

"Hugh mentioned
to me that you had younger sisters, but he didn't say how old they were."

"Rosalie is
fourteen and Miranda is twelve.  My brother Alfred is sixteen and I was
always rather disappointed that he wasn't a girl."

Both of them
giggled. 

"I always wanted
a sister, period," confessed Eleanor. "I always thought Hugh was
rather useless, it never occurred to me until recently that he could provide me
with the sister that my parents hadn't."

"Ah yes,"
said Irene, although the light in her green eyes dimmed a little.  Her
smile seemed just a tad less bright and Eleanor couldn't help but wonder
why.  "But your new husband does not have any sisters?"

"No, he's an
only child. I think that's why he became so attached to Hugh and their friend
Wesley. The three of them are more like brothers than anything else. I used to
think that he only saw me as an annoying little sister but..." Eleanor's
voice trailed off as she blushed, realizing that her thoughts and conversation
had almost turned to a place that was not entirely appropriate.

"So you're a
love match?" asked Irene, her voice a little skeptical.

"No." 
Giving a little cough Eleanor tried to blunt the sharpness in her voice,
pasting a false social smile on her face. "No ah... we're just, we've
known each other for so long. We're... companions, I suppose you could say.
We've known each other for so long that we do care for one another of
course."  She gave a light little laugh that felt and sounded rather
hollow.

Irene nodded as if
Eleanor had confirmed something she'd already known.  "That's the
most one can expect I suppose." She leaned into Eleanor conspiratorially.
"Can I tell you a secret? And you won't tell anyone, not even Hugh?"

"Of
course," Eleanor said, leaning in.

"And not Lady
Brooke, please," said Irene, her eyes sliding back over to the other
circle of females.

"Is there
something between the two of you? Edwin had mentioned that it might be best if
the two of you weren't seated as closely as you had been at dinner."

"We don't get
along," said Irene firmly. 

Eleanor nodded.
"She is one of my dearest friends but I know she does not get along with
everyone. Still, dear friend or not, you may trust me because I am sure that we
are going to become the best of friends and soon we're going to be
sisters.  I will not betray your confidence."

"Thank
you," Irene reached out and gave Eleanor's hand a small press, her voice
lowering even further as the two young ladies leaned close to each other. 
Not that the matrons seated with them were paying at all attention to their
conversation but it was obvious that Irene didn't want to risk anyone
overhearing the slightest word. "I used to hope for a love match but from
my observations they happen rarely, if at all. I think that companionship or
friendship is the best one can hope for in a marriage.  Do you think that
Hugh will be content with that?"