Claiming His Wife (7 page)

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.