Claiming His Wife (3 page)

So why was she crying now like her
heart was broken?  The tears weren't slowing, if anything they
were increasing as he held her against him.  

Her emotions were jumbled,
jangling inside of her, like too many church bells rioting inside
her head.  While she knew that she should be furious with
Alex, and she still was, she couldn't help but crave being held and
comforted.  Even though he was the one who had caused her
distress, both in the past and today.  The very idea that he
thought he could spank her into compliance should have enraged
her. 

It would, she was sure it would, as
soon as she managed to stop crying.

Some small part of her,
some tiny remnant of her heart that he hadn't managed to crush yet,
was pulsing with hope.  That's what angered her the most.
 He'd sounded like he cared while he was spanking her.
 Not the edict that they would present a respectable face to
the public, which was what she'd expected of him, but when he said
there would be no more men.  It was the way he'd said it.
 Like it tormented him to know that she'd had other lovers,
like it had hurt him as much as his first affairs had torn at her.
 Stupid, really, to think that it might be true.  She
knew how he really felt about women, how he felt about her.
 

One woman is as good as
another.

But then why track her
down like this?  Why spank her?  Why not just negotiate
for whatever it was he wanted from her?  Even if he didn't
want the scandal of divorce - which she didn't understand, since
she'd made herself a much greater scandal than a divorce would be -
she would have expected him to come at her with a very different
agreement.  One which would allow him to keep his mistresses,
and her to continue on with her affairs, as long as she bore his
heir and became discreet.  In other words, as long as they
acted like the rest of the unhappily married couples in the
ton.

Grace could have said no
to that.  It would have been easy.  She didn't want any
part of marriage to a man who had no emotions for her. She wanted
her freedom.  But this?  The rawness in his voice when
he'd said there would be no more women for him had made it sound
like a promise.  A vow.  She wanted to believe him, which
made her furious at herself.  

Her tears were finally starting to
slow and she tried to push away from him, but his arms
tightened. 

"Stay... just stay still,
Grace.  Let me hold you for a while."  The hoarseness in
his voice made him sound almost desperate.  Unless, of course,
she was imagining things that weren't there, the way she had when
they'd first married.  But his arms weren't
loosening.

She was so tired of
fighting.  Not just today. It felt like she'd been struggling
against impossible odds for years.  The welcome numbness of
exhaustion enveloped her, and she slumped against him, letting him
hold her because it was easier than continuing to fight.
 

******

Alex knew the moment Grace finally
woke up, because she practically vaulted out of his arms.  The
wild look she gave him was replaced with an angry, pained one as
soon as her bottom came into contact with the carriage bench.
 It was all he could do not to chuckle, but he didn't want to
provoke his little wildcat of a wife any further.

Tilting her chin up, she gingerly
settled back into her seat, smoothing down her hair and clothing as
if pretending he didn't exist.  

The past hour had been the best hour
he'd had in years.  Grace had reluctantly settled into his
arms and then she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, her sweet scent
surrounding him, her curves resting against him.  It had also
been an exercise in self-control, because his body had responded to
having a woman nestled up against him, especially because it was
finally the right woman.  Despite the aching torment of his
cock, he'd fully enjoyed every last second of it.

Even now, he could barely tear his
eyes away from the crease on her cheek, left from where it had
pressed against his jacket.  

He'd spanked her and she'd let him
hold her.  And she'd agreed to his terms for the future of the
marriage.  Obviously his friends were right.  He should
have taken her in hand years ago.

Chapter 2

Unruly emotions clamored inside of
Grace's stomach, and she was grateful that Alex seemed content to
finish the rest of the afternoon's ride in silence.  It felt
like she was burning, inside and out.  Humiliation swept
through her - truly, how stupid was she to pretend that perhaps he
cared for her? - along with anger at herself, embarrassment at how
easily he'd handled her, and the small, sick hope that maybe he
somehow did care.  She could still feel his eyes, occasionally
sweeping over her, but she resisted the temptation to look at
him.

Something had changed within him,
obviously, and she didn't yet know how to react.  Nothing was
going the way she thought it would, and it put her entirely off
balance.  

Her bottom still smarted a
bit, although the pain had swiftly dwindled.  Grace's father
had never disciplined her in such a manner.  It would have
taken effort on his part.  Whenever she'd misbehaved, he'd
solved it by the simple expedient of banning her from seeing her
mother or sisters.  Then he didn't have to deal with her at
all.  Loneliness was a swift teacher for a little girl.
 It had been her father's coldness that had spurred her desire
for a marriage with something more; a man who was capable of loving
her would certainly be capable of loving her children.  After
all, she'd seen Eleanor and Hugh's parents' relationship, she knew
what a marriage could be.  

Alex's determination to reconcile made
her wonder if that faint spark of hope might have some
justification.  Immediately she squashed the thought.
 He'd already shattered her heart once, there was no need to
give him the opportunity to grind it into dust.  

Still, when they pulled up to an inn
that evening, she allowed him to help her out of the carriage when
he offered his hand.  Although she avoided meeting his gaze.
 

After so many years of
taking care of herself, it felt almost nice to allow him to take
the lead.  The few times she'd traveled with a lover, she'd
always insisted on having her own room and managing her own
affairs.  They'd always let her.  Now she was settled
into a private room off to the side of the main dining room, being
served her supper while Alex made arrangements with the innkeeper.
 She was able to relax, to sit in privacy, and not have to
worry about the carriage or the bill or the room or anything at
all. 

Her thoughts wandered as she picked at
her food.  In less than a day, her life felt as though it had
changed irrevocably - again.  This morning she'd been
Conyngham's lover, now it seemed as though Alex was determined to
have her back in her place as his wife.  While she didn't
understand his motivations, perhaps they didn't truly matter.
 What she needed to decide upon was her next course of action.
 Her scandalous behavior hadn't driven him away, although he'd
remained separate from her for years because of it.  Obviously
it hadn't been enough.

So what would be? 

Would anything be
enough?

Although he'd procured her agreement
to the rules for reconciliation in the carriage, Grace didn't
consider herself bound by those.  Agreement under extreme
duress wasn't agreement at all.  She shifted uneasily in her
chair.  What would his reaction be if she were to break that
agreement?  Would he decide that she wasn't worth the
continued effort?  Or would he spank her again?

A hot flush went through her at the
thought and she frowned at the entirely inappropriate reaction.
 

Of course she didn't want him to spank
her again.  The entire idea was ludicrous.  It had been
humiliating and painful, even if being cuddled by him afterwards
had been nice.  In its own way, that had been rather
humiliating too.  She shouldn't enjoy receiving any kind of
comfort from the man. 

Alex came back into the
room, undoing the elaborate knot of his cravat and leaving it
hanging around his neck.  The collar of his shirt gaped open,
and Grace averted her eyes, all too aware of the attraction that
immediately flared in her.  Her favorite time of day during
their brief period of happiness had always been the evenings, when
Alex would take off his jacket and cravat, the pieces of clothing
he found most stifling, and just relax with her.  Those were
the softer times, when they would sit and talk, or read together,
or play games, or when he'd start stripping off her own clothing
and make love to her in whatever room they happened to be in.
 

She hardened her heart as Alex
stripped off his jacket as well, before coming to sit down across
from her.  A tense silence reigned as he filled his plate, and
her stomach began to roil nervously.   It vexed her even more
when Alex didn't seem at all affected; he began to eat, ignoring
her, while she pushed her food around her plate and snuck peeks at
him from beneath hooded eyes.  Not once did he look at her
though.  

"Is my room ready?" she asked, her
voice low and tense, closed-off so as not to betray her
hope.

"Yes, but don't leave yet.  I
want to talk to you about where we're going."

Grace snorted.  "Why bother?
 It's not like it makes a difference."

"I'm sure Eleanor will be happy to
disagree with you," he said, ignoring her waspish tone.  His
eyes flicked up to her face, gauging her reaction to her friend's
name.  Even though his expression was hard, for just a moment
she was almost able to believe that he actually cared, just a
little bit, about what she thought.  "We'll be joining her and
Edwin in Bath for Wesley's wedding."

Irene had told her about
the engagement, and Grace couldn’t help the little thrill that went
through her at hearing she would be able to attend. She’d always
loved social events anyway, and this would be a major one.
 The man was notorious for his affairs, his dangerous good
looks, and his dark edges.  He hadn't even had a full Season
in the
ton
, but
the matrons were full of gossip about his domineering manner and
his scandalous perversions.  Not that it made any difference;
women had fallen all over themselves to trip into his bed.
 

Now he was getting
married? That had been the stunned question on London’s
lips.

"Well, it will be the
wedding of the Season," she murmured, her lips twisting in humor
that she would be there to witness it.  Those same gossiping
matrons would be shocked and disapproving at her inclusion in such
a major event.  Especially if it was at her husband's side.
 The tiny smile faded immediately.

From the glint in Alex's eyes, he'd
caught her small moment of weakness, but thankfully he didn't say
anything about it.  

"It will be large enough, although not
everyone will be able to leave the capital to attend.
 However, Hugh and Irene will be there and I expect you to
behave yourself."

Grace bristled at his patronizing
tone.  

"I have no issue with Irene," she
snapped, feeling a rush of vindictive pleasure at the surprise on
his face, knowing that he could hear the sincerity in her voice.
 The confusion on his face was almost soothing to her temper.
 She smiled thinly.  "She came to apologize to me before
she and Hugh left London.  We're quite friendly now."
 That was stretching the truth a bit, but it was worth it to
see the dumbfounded look on her husband's face.  

"Irene came to apologize to you," he
repeated, as if having trouble even comprehending the words she'd
used.  As if he was trying to figure out what sweet, favored
Irene would have to apologize to Grace about.

Irene had always been a
sore subject between them, and after Grace had overhead Alex
talking to her father, she'd outright hated the other woman.
 
One woman is as good as
another
 - except for Irene.  The
young redhead had been so obvious in her adoration for Alex, and
Alex had been devoted to her.  He'd brushed off Grace's
discomfort with Irene's behavior even when he'd been pretending to
dote on her when they'd first been married.  Then, when she'd
listened to that blasted conversation, she'd realized that all
women were interchangeable to Alex, except for Irene.  She was
a constant, a woman who stood out above all the rest, and Grace's
bitterness had nearly overwhelmed her every time she'd been faced
with the woman.

The apology had helped, and Grace knew
it wasn't Irene's fault that Alex was the way he was, but she
didn't know if things would ever truly be friendly between them.
 

Sudden comprehension seemed to dawn on
him, and it was Grace's turn to blink in confusion at his
expression.

"I see," he said, nodding.
 "Good, then."

Tapping her finger against the table,
Grace looked away from him, wondering exactly what it was he
saw.

"I'm sorry as well."

Her heart stilled.  Those words
could not have just come out of his mouth.  Alex was never
sorry.  He was always supremely confident in everything that
he did, sure of the rightness of it.  Besides
which...