by Golden Angel
Dizziness brought on instant obedience. Mrs. Banks’s fingers were already moving back and forth in her mouth, coating her tongue with the musky sweetness, and Vivian obediently sucked. Although she didn’t realize it, the restraint of her arms behind her back was thrusting her breasts forward enticingly, as if offering them up for Mrs. Banks’s perusal. She shifted uncomfortably on her knees, feeling the heat of her bottom against the cool air of the room. She cupped her hands over it and noticed the blazing skin against her palms.
Deciding to press Vivian a little harder, per Mrs. Cunningham’s instructions, Mrs. Banks began to fondle Vivian’s breast with her free hand. The young woman gasped a little, something like panic flickering in her eyes, but when she looked up into the unyielding blue eyes of Mrs. Banks, she shuddered and submitted to her companion’s touch. Her arms twitched in the bindings, as if to come forward and cover herself, but there was nothing to be done as the silken cord held her wrists quite tightly. It seemed as soon as she allowed herself to become accustomed to one thing, Mrs. Banks was introducing something new.
But she could not deny that Mrs. Banks’s hand on her breast, teasing her little pink nipple, felt incredibly pleasurable. The gentle touch stirred something deep in her belly again, but surely she could not need a climax so soon after her most recent one?
Then Mrs. Banks withdrew her fingers from Vivian’s pouting mouth and ceased to caress Vivian’s breasts, and Vivian was left with those small stirrings unsatisfied. They were not advanced enough for her to be upset, just curious as to the responses of her body under Mrs. Banks’s more experienced hands.
“Very good, Miss Stafford,” Mrs. Banks said as she helped Vivian rise.
Solicitously she released Vivian’s wrists from the bindings of the cord and rubbed the slightly reddened skin with cream. Vivian’s chastised bottom received no such treatment. Once she was dressed in her night rail and put to bed, Vivian was unable to fall into a sound sleep the way she normally was.
She tossed and turned, the pain in her bottom seeming to grow as she tried to find the reprieve of slumber. Laying on her back was impossible and even laying on her sides made her feel sore. In addition to the discomfort, she had found the needy ache between her legs had not been entirely satisfied, some remnant lingered, perhaps brought about by Mrs. Banks’s gentle fondling as Vivian had sucked her fingers. Tossing back and forth and wondering at the stirrings between her thighs, grimacing at the lingering soreness of her poor bottom, Vivian finally drifted off to sleep much later than usual.
CHAPTER NINE
NIBBLING DISTRACTEDLY AT HIS BREAKFAST, Lord Cranborne frowned at the report his estate manager had given him. Ever since his father had begun to hand over some of the estates to Gabriel to run, giving him experience with the handling of estate matters as well as relieving some of the burden on the marquess, his days had been filled with worries about crop yields, horses, and the tenants. It was a part of the reason he did not have the time to train his future wife in the manner he desired.
But that was why he’d put his trust into Mrs. Cunningham’s Finishing School. Just thinking about Vivian and imagining what she must look like as she was put through her training roused his desires. He couldn’t wait to actually be a part of her training. Until then, he had to distract himself with other financial and business affairs.
Affairs that needed his attention if he was going to have the estates in order by the time of his wedding. He wanted plenty of time to indulge himself with his new wife, to sate the ardor he’d had from the moment he saw her.
“Good morning, Gabriel,” said his stepmother, Audrey, as she drifted into the room. She was quite a beautiful woman, a few years older than him, and very devoted to her family. So far she had not given his father another child, but she seemed satisfied with her stepchildren. Indeed, it had been her devotion to his sisters that had precipitated the events that led to her agreeing to marry his father.
That had been rather a surprise to him. His father had been involved with any number of women over the years, and Gabriel had always assumed he would never remarry. But then Audrey had applied to be governess to Diana and Henrietta; her attractive looks and buxom figure had appealed immensely to his father from the start, and her fiery nature, strong will, and adoration of his daughters had sent his father tumbling head over heels in love. Unable to fathom giving her up when his daughters came of age, the marquess had made her his wife.
Despite the difference in their ages, she and his father were well-matched, and they truly cared for each other. Gabriel didn’t see Audrey as a mother figure, of course, they were too close in age for that, but they’d become good friends. He was happy his father had her in his life; she steadied him in many ways, and the marquess had become a much gentler and compassionate person under her influence.
“Good morning, Audrey,” he returned, setting down his papers. Normally he conducted his business within his own home, but today he had needed some documents that were only available in his father’s study. Since he hadn’t seen the marquess yet this morning, he had taken over the room with his work. “How are you today?”
“Quite well,” she said, giving him a ravishing smile as she floated around the study, examining the various piles of papers and books scattered about. The burgundy dress she wore set off the red highlights in her chestnut hair and hugged the magnificent bosom for which she was well-known. “Your father and I are discussing taking another trip abroad before your wedding. He said you have already set a date?”
Gabriel had to smile at the cautious curiosity in Audrey’s voice. While she had always been confident and strong-willed in dealing with his sisters, she had never quite known how to handle him. Since he hadn’t spoken to her at all about his plans to wed—indeed, he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone but his father—he could only assume she wasn’t sure whether or not she had any right to ask questions about it, but of course that didn’t contain her curiosity completely.
“She’s at school right now, but we’ll be wed on the day she graduates. I look forward to introducing you to her.”
Something like alarm flickered in Audrey’s hazel eyes. “On the day she graduates? Somehow I didn’t imagine you marrying her right out of the schoolroom, Gabriel.”
There was more than a hint of reproach in her voice, and he remembered how she’d argued for his sisters to have more time before their own weddings. He wasn’t sure if his stepmother would approve of the lessons Vivian was receiving now, in order to prepare her for marriage to him. While he suspected his father’s tastes ran similar to his own in the bedroom, that didn’t mean the lessons were exactly proper.
“It’s a finishing school, she won’t be right out of the regular schoolroom. She’s eighteen, so she’s already older than most of the debs coming out this year. Mrs. Cunningham’s school prepares the young women who attend to run a household so they can make advantageous matches.”
“And you’ve already made one with her,” Audrey said, crossing to look out of the window as she thought. He could see her nibbling her lower lip. In many ways, Audrey had always been far too astute, picking up on the subtlest clues that someone was hiding something from her. “Have I met her?”
“Doubtful. She was at George and Mary’s wedding, which is where I met her, and she’s been in school since.” Both of his parents were well acquainted with the couple, although they hadn’t been able to attend the wedding.
“So you haven’t been courting her?” His stepmother turned towards him, eyes flashing dangerously.
Audrey was ever a romantic. He knew very well that she loved his father with all her heart and that she wanted all of her stepchildren to find love. Diana and Henrietta had both managed to, so he supposed he was the last hurdle.
“It’s an arranged match, but I can assure you I have strong feelings for her.”
Very strong—in fact, he might go so far as to call himself somewhat obsessed with her. He didn’t want any other woman, he thought about her con
stantly, and he desperately desired her to be comfortable with him. Above all else, he wanted to make her happy. Was that love? Perhaps. It was certainly the strongest emotion he’d ever felt towards any woman, and it hadn’t lessened at all in the time he’d been waiting for her. If love grew, the way it had for Diana and Alexander, then he would be content. If not, then he would still have passion, desire, and an obedient wife.
“And her?” Audrey persisted. “Does she have feelings for you? Did she have a choice in her bridegroom?”
That had been the sticking point between Audrey and his father when it came to Diana’s marriage, her lack of choice. Of course, everything had worked out, as his father liked to point out, but Audrey insisted on maintaining her position that the happy ending had been as much luck as anything else.
“She had a choice,” he said a little testily.
Perhaps she hadn’t had much of one, considering her family’s financial situation, but he certainly wouldn’t force a woman into a marriage that she rejected. He knew from Mrs. Banks’s report that Vivian was applying herself assiduously to her new training and striving to make herself pleasing to her future husband, and surely she wouldn’t do that unless she accepted the marriage, would she? During the time he’d spent with her, she’d certainly seemed accepting of him, although he also knew she might feel compelled to seem that way. But he thought he would know if she wasn’t. There was attraction and desire on both sides, whether or not she recognized it for what it was.
“What are you two doing?” His father’s booming voice practically echoed through the study. The way he looked over his wife would make a casual observer think they’d only been married a short time. It was a hungry and lustful look. They had the kind of marriage Gabriel wanted. There was affection, passion, and understanding between them that defied the usual restrictions of the ton.
“Gabriel and I were just talking,” she said, going to greet her husband with a kiss.
Gabriel wondered about the slightly guilty tone in Audrey’s voice and her lack of detail in her response to his father. He grinned wickedly.
“Audrey was quite interested in my future bride,” he said casually. Aha! A direct hit. Someone wasn’t supposed to be bothering him about his personal matters, and now she’d been caught. Audrey glared at him as his father frowned down at her.
“I told you not to bother Gabriel about his wedding.”
“I just asked a few questions,” Audrey said, almost simpering as she fluttered her eyelashes innocently. Not at all fooled, the marquess choked on a laugh at his wife’s antics. He kept a stern face, but even Gabriel could see his father’s eyes sparkling in amusement.
Gabriel enjoyed watching Audrey attempt to use her wiles on her husband, who obviously appreciated the attempt even as he ignored it. He wondered if Vivian would ever try something so blatant as a sexual manipulation. Somehow, he didn’t think so, and he preferred it that way. While he enjoyed Audrey’s company greatly, her temperament was not of the kind he’d like his wife to have.
“What did I tell you was going to happen if you pestered him?” The marquess traced his wife’s cheek with a finger. “You already had plenty of say in Henrietta’s marriage, let Gabriel’s be.”
“I just wanted to make sure he’s going to treat the poor thing right,” Audrey replied, her spine straightening as she abandoned her flirtations and some of the steel the marquess was so fond of returned. Gabriel knew his father liked it when Audrey stood up to him. “Did you know he didn’t even court her?”
His father just laughed at the glaring look she gave him.
Although Audrey had settled into her place as marchioness, she had never expected to be so socially prominent, and she still disapproved many of the things the ton took for granted—such as arranged marriages.
“I didn’t say that exactly,” Gabriel countered. “The arrangements have been made and the papers signed, but I’ve already visited Vivian twice at the school and given her a birthday gift.”
Audrey sniffed at him, as if barely mollified by his assertion, but he also saw her lips moving, and he got the impression she was repeating Vivian’s name to herself, as if committing it to memory. Internally, he sighed; just what he needed, to give Audrey another daughter to fuss over.
“And now, my dear, we need to discuss your intentional disobedience of my order to leave Gabriel alone,” his father said firmly, turning his wife in the doorway to shoo her out. Glancing over his shoulder, he shrugged and smiled at his son. “I should have realized she was up to something when she practically bolted from her dressing room after hearing you were here. I hope she wasn’t too distracting.”
“Mmm. . . . I’m sure I’ll be able to catch up on my neglected work after a few hours,” said Gabriel, his face serious.
The door closed behind the couple and he could hear Audrey protesting. Only when the door was firmly shut did he allow himself to grin again. The little game his father and stepmother played was highly amusing to him. Perhaps one day he and Vivian would play similar ones.
For a moment he thought about Vivian, and his groin swelled again. Groaning, he forced his attention back to the papers in front of him.
* * *
That afternoon found Gabriel at his club, having taken refuge from Audrey and his sisters. His snifter of brandy in hand, he let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair. While Vivian was tucked away at the school she should be safe from his family. He’d really like her to become better acquainted with him through himself and not his family; not to mention, he’d like to establish his authority before his family undermined it.
“Well, hullo, old chap,” said a cheery voice. Opening his eyes, Gabriel looked up at George, who was settling down in the chair next to his. “You look a bit worse for the wear.”
Gabriel groaned. “Audrey and the girls are hounding me about Vivian.”
Chuckling, George signaled to a waiter to bring him his own drink. “You can’t blame them for their curiosity. My mother was constantly harping on me about Mary while she was at the school.”
“How did you deal with it?”
“The same way you are,” George admitted, with a broad gesture at the club. “I got almost daily letters from her, not to mention the occasional visit from one of her friends. Once they met, Mother adored her, so that was well enough.”
“I think Audrey and my sisters are more concerned about how I’ll suit Vivian than they are about how she’ll suit me,” Gabriel said, a bit disgruntled. Then again, he supposed he couldn’t completely blame them. He did have a bit of a reputation, after all, one which had fallen by the wayside now that he was to be married, not that it stopped women from trying. Another reason he didn’t make social appearances anymore—he wasn’t just not searching, he was actively avoiding.
“Well, you don’t need to worry about how she’ll suit you, that’s what the school’s for,” George replied, a note of satisfaction in his voice. The waiter came by with his drink, which he took a sip of before turning his attention back to Gabriel. “I can’t imagine having any other wife than my Mary. When I hear some of these other poor blokes talking about their wives, well, it’s no wonder they end up seeking companionship elsewhere.” He lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. “Westhaven told me he heard his wife mumbling something about place settings while he was trying to do his duty with her. Can you imagine?”
Gabriel cringed. That certainly wasn’t the only story he’d heard about the hazards of taking a wife to bed. It was a large part of the reason he wanted Vivian to come to their marriage with her passions awakened and, hopefully, more comfortable with her body and her desires than the average wife. His own needs were much more complicated than the average gentleman’s and would probably traumatize a woman like Lady Westhaven.
The two of them passed an amiable afternoon at the club, eventually joined by Alexander and Jonathan, Gabriel’s brothers-in-law. They’d both been pestered by their wives to find out more about Vivian from him, si
nce he’d fled the scene. Doing their duty, they asked, and then dropped the subject as soon as he expressed his unwillingness to delve into details about his future bride.
Shifting uncomfortably on the dining room chair, Vivian did her best to attend to her luncheon, despite the ache that lingered in her bottom. Mrs. Banks watched her out of the corner of her eye and she knew she must stop fidgeting so much or it would be listed on the tally of her infractions and her poor backside would pay the price later. Strangely the ache didn’t bother her quite so much as it had the day before, despite the fact that it was stronger.
It was almost as if she was learning to embrace the pain rather than fight against it and allow it to distract her.
And it didn’t hurt that, for the first time, she hadn’t felt rushed in the morning. A small smile played across her lips as she complimented Rosalie, who was playing hostess, on the soup that had been served. Despite the prior evening’s harsh punishment, she felt almost blissful. She knew what was expected of her and today she was making her way through each passing hour gracefully.
Her skill on the pianoforte was flawless, one of the companions had complimented her on her elegant script as she’d composed a letter, she’d quickly soothed one of the crying maids who had accidentally spilled a tray during tea—without disrupting the service—and she was always smiling, no matter the provocation. All with a bottom that still stung whenever she sat down. She could practically feel the approval emanating from her companion.
Indeed, Mrs. Banks was more than pleased, and very proud of Vivian. Only once or twice had she caught the slight wince as Vivian sat, proof that the young woman was still feeling the effects of her chastisement, and yet not once had she faltered today.
Looking at Miss Stafford now, in a plum-colored dress that accentuated her narrow waist and a cream and plum hat perched atop her head to keep the sun from her face as they tended to the gardens, one would never know she had been harshly disciplined the evening before. Which was exactly how it should be.
