Dealing With Discipline (27 page)

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Authors: Golden Angel

Tags: #Erotica, #sex, #bdsm, #spanking, #domestic discipline, #victorian era

BOOK: Dealing With Discipline
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His attention captured,
Edwin leaned on his cue, listening to Hugh with a look of almost
disbelief on his face. After all, he knew very well that Hugh
hadn’t wanted a wife like Eleanor, one that would need constant
discipline, but he could tell from Hugh’s expression that his
friend had enjoyed the experience more than he’d ever thought he
would. Yet things hadn’t turned out well anyway.

“And now she won’t talk to
me. Barely looks at me. It’s driving me up the wall. She’s not like
Eleanor… I keep wondering if I did the right thing.”

“Well of course you did,”
Edwin said immediately. “Rex is… well even I don’t want to try to
ride Rex. It has nothing to do with how good a rider I am, he’s the
kind of horse that will only allow one person to ride him. I hate
to think what would happen to him if something were to happen
to
you.
She’ll
get over being spanked, she
wouldn’t
get over whatever Rex would
do to her if she actually attempted to ride him.”

“True,” said Hugh, feeling marginally
better. With Irene acting as though he truly was the monster that
she’d named him, and no immediate support in the form of his father
or friends, he had started to feel as though he’d over reacted.
Edwin’s immediate approval of his actions helped to bolster his
confidence. He watched as Edwin turned back to the task at hand –
soundly trouncing Hugh at billiards.

They played a few more turns in
silence, other than the wooden clack of the balls slamming into
each other and the slightly muted thuds as they bounced off the
sides of the table.

“I don’t know what to do to get back
into her good graces,” Hugh confessed as the game neared its end.
“She was just truly starting to come out of her shell in the
country and as soon as she showed some real spirit, I punished her
for it.”

“Stop trying to get back
into her good graces at all,” Edwin advised, lining himself up for
his next shot. “Do you think I pander to Nell after she’s done
something that she needs to be disciplined for? The more you act
like you think
you
did something wrong, the more she will. She’ll eventually
realize that you were disciplining her over a matter of safety, not
anything else.”

As Hugh mulled that over,
Edwin’s butler knocked and announced the arrival of Lord Brooke and
the Earl of Spencer. While he was glad to see Wesley, Hugh felt a
bit more ambivalent about Lord Brooke’s presence, especially
considering the man’s brotherly protective attitude about Irene and
her current demeanor towards her husband. Fortunately, upon their
arrival, the conversation switched over. Wesley had another letter
from his mother to share about his ward, his dark eyes sparkling as
he outlined the recent escapades of the young lady.

It was obvious that the Countess was
coming to the end of her rope in regards to Wesley’s ward, she was
practically demanding that her son come and take the young woman in
hand.

“I’m not sure what she thinks I’ll be
able to do that she won’t,” said Wesley as he folded the letter
back up following his recitation. “It’s not as if I have any
experience in raising a lady.”

“But you do have quite a bit of
experience with ladies,” Edwin riposted, causing all of them to
laugh. He and Hugh had given up the table to Wesley and Lord Brooke
and were enjoying snifters of brandy while they watched the two
play.

“Perhaps she thinks that
you’ll be able to provide a more ah… stringent discipline?” Lord
Brooke said, brushing an auburn lock of hair out of his face. His
lips twitched into almost the facsimile of an amused
smile.

“Perhaps,” said Wesley
easily. “If she’s as wild as mother describes the chit could
probably use a sound spanking. Mother was never very good at
playing the disciplinarian, not that she ever needed to. Somehow
she always had us toeing the line without it… I can’t imagine why
she’s having trouble with a schoolroom miss.”

Edwin sighed.
“Unfortunately even strict discipline doesn’t guarantee immediate
good behavior. Eleanor can go for days being absolutely perfect and
then she’ll do something that makes me think she must
want
to be spanked.” He
grinned, his eyes getting a bit of a faraway look in them. “Not
that it bothers me to do so, but she seems just as infuriated by it
every time. Even if she enjoys it as much as I do, she doesn’t want
to admit to it.”

“Less information please,”
Hugh murmured with a little wince. Hearing about his sister’s
discipline didn’t bother him. Knowing the intimacies of her
relationship with his best friend was asking a bit much,
however.

Wesley guffawed a laugh and even Lord
Brooke looked rather amused, although the expression was all in his
eyes. Edwin gave him a long-suffering look. “Just pretend I’m
talking about someone other than your sister.”

“I try, and then I get
angry thinking that you’d dishonor my sister by doing
that
with another
woman,” Hugh said dryly, making Wesley laugh again.

“He’s got you there.”

“Says the man who’s slept
with half the bored wives of the
ton.

“Not half… I haven’t had nearly the
time for that.”

Lord Brooke shook his head. “Give him
the time and he may make the full round.” The man’s voice sounded
disapproving, Hugh noted with surprise. But Wesley didn’t take
offense.

“I’m not that bad. Actually, I’m
rather discerning. I’ve no desire to end up on the dueling field
with an angry husband… women start expecting things when you make
them widows.” He shook his head almost sadly, as if mourning those
ladies he couldn’t approach due to overprotective husbands. “I
prefer to deal with those who have no expectations.”

“As long as you stay away
from
my
wife, you
know I have no quarrel with you,” Lord Brooke said, almost absently
as he studied the table. Both Edwin and Hugh studied him with
interest, but Wesley just shrugged; it was apparently something
he’d heard before and of no interest to him.

“Even if I had an interest
in the lady, I wouldn’t do that.” Wesley grinned at his friend.
“Despite how beautiful she is. But mostly because I have no desire
to die at dawn.”

“You’re that good a shot?” Hugh asked
Lord Brooke with some interest. After all, if Irene went
complaining to the man and he didn’t bother to hear out Hugh’s side
of the story, he might well be facing him early one morning.
Wesley, Edwin and Hugh were fairly evenly matched when it came to
shooting, and they were all considered crack shots. If Wesley
thought Alex was better…

The man shrugged.

“He is,” Wesley said cheerfully. “Not
that you’ll ever hear him brag about it.”

Delightful. Hugh sighed.
Hopefully if Irene did take it into her head to complain to her
unofficial big brother, Wesley would be able to hold the man off
long enough to allow Hugh to explain. It seemed that the two of
them had formed a fairly solid friendship, especially if Wesley
were comfortable talking with Lord Brooke about his wife. Everyone
in the
ton
knew
that you did so at your own peril.

******

The invitations had gone
out and responses were already coming back in. Eleanor wished that
her parents could be at the dinner welcoming Irene and Hugh back,
but both of them were still in Bath. Actually she was rather
surprised that her father at least wasn’t back in London by now;
he’d never before spent this much time away from the city with her
mother. Granted, from what Edwin had told her there wasn’t anything
pressing being discussed on the political front currently, but she
still hadn’t expected her father to spend so much time dancing
attendance on her mother. She hoped he wasn’t feeling ill – after
all, an extended stay in Bath with her mother could be cover for
his need for the healing waters of the small city if he was
sickly.

She made a mental note to
write a letter to her mother. It had been awhile since she’d last
written anyway.

Turning her attention back to the
responses, she counted them out and smiled. Nearly everyone she had
invited was coming. Including Lord Brooke. She made a little face
because she didn’t particularly want to see him again, even if she
was curious about why he was still in the city. At least she would
be able to see how he and her new sister-in-law
interacted.

Not that she could do anything if it
turned out that Grace was right and Irene was in love with the man.
But perhaps she could warn Hugh. Or help to keep Irene and Lord
Brooke apart until Irene and Hugh’s relationship could be
solidified.

Then again, knowing her brother, he
would be just as happy retreating to the countryside with his wife
and staying out of the city entirely. Although he enjoyed
occasional city life, he was much happier on the estates with his
horses and dogs, interacting with the tenants and occasionally
getting his hands dirty. A little dirt had never bothered her
either, when she was younger, she remembered almost wistfully. Now
she could barely conceive of getting on her knees and grubbing in
the mud – after all, her dresses would be ruined… but she could
still go riding and walking.

The Season in London was exciting, but
part of her was yearning for the pure bright sunshine of the
countryside, the lazier days, the calmer pursuits. The endless
round of balls and parties were exciting and beautiful, but they
were also exhausting and occasionally painful. Especially if the
gentlemen asking her to dance were not very adept on the dance
floor.

This dinner was going to be one of the
quieter and more exclusive events, which suited Eleanor just fine.
She’d been working hard on gathering the necessary foods and
decorations to make it a lavish and elegant affair. It seemed that
all of her hard work was going to pay off.

If only things were going so well with
her marriage.

Despite numerous hints
that she’d made to her husband over the past couple of weeks that
she had feelings for him that went beyond mere affection, passion,
or a prolonged attachment left over from childhood friendship, he
had said nothing in return. Indeed, there had been times when he’d
seemed almost confused by her attempts at sparking a conversation
in such a vein. He didn’t thwart such declarations, but neither
could his responses be called encouraging.

Yet he continued to lave passion on
her nightly, he danced attendance on her at every event, and he’d
recently bought her the most stunning diamond bracelet for no
reason at all. If only she could be sure of the sentiment behind
his actions… instead she was elated and downtrodden by turns.
Jealous whenever he danced with another woman, despite knowing that
it was a social necessity. Furious whenever one of his reputed
former mistresses dared to approach him, even though he always
received their greetings coldly and swiftly sent them on their way
without her interference or insistence. Thrilled when he refused to
quit her side, miserable when he relinquished her to another’s care
while he continued his conversation with whatever Lord he was
speaking. Even more miserable when she noticed that he didn’t seem
to suffer the same throes of jealousy that wracked her.

If only he’d come out and say how he
truly felt about her, then she would be either the happiest woman
alive or the most miserable, but at least she’d be able to move
forward!

“My lady?” Mrs. Hester came into the
room, interrupting Eleanor’s thoughts as if she’d sensed their turn
towards the melancholy. Somehow the older woman often seemed to
make timely interruptions when Eleanor was depressing herself, as
if her position as housekeeper had somehow sensitized her to
knowing when something was amiss in the household.

“Yes Mrs. Hester?” Eleanor said,
putting down the list of responses that had been made. She was only
waiting on one or two more.

“There’s a problem with the linens –
it seems the mice have gotten into them and ruined about half of
them. We can order more but they may not be quite the same make.
Cook says the recent crop of strawberries isn’t nearly high enough
quality for the tarts you wanted, he thinks they’ll do better as
jam, but that leaves us without a dessert…” The housekeeper rattled
on as Eleanor forced herself to pay attention to the various
problems about the household.

The linens weren’t a major
emergency, she could just change the color scheme for the dinner if
she didn’t have the time or inclination to purchase new ones in the
lovely cream color that she’d initially chosen. However the lack of
decent strawberries made her frown. She’d so wanted to make up her
last dinner’s food choices to Edwin by incorporating some of his
favorites into this one. Tarts might not be considered the most
elegant of foodstuffs, but they were one of Edwin’s favorites and
Cook did a marvelous job of making them more fanciful by adding
chocolate and cream toppings.

Would he even notice the
amount of effort that she’d put into this dinner? The attention
that she’d put towards the menu? As much attention as she’d put
towards the last dinner but in a completely different way. Even the
colors that she’d put together were the ones she’d noticed he’d
complimented the most in her dress or when they’d seen them at
others’ events.

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