Marriage Training

by Golden Angel

  Before he was even announced his eyes had sought out his bride, easily found with her bright hair and the dress he’d commissioned for her. She looked mouthwateringly beautiful, vulnerably innocent, and entirely enticing. When he’d commissioned the dress he’d only thought about the effect it would have on him, not on the other swains who would be attending the tea. Their engagement would only make her more interesting to them—when one man was willing to commit himself to a woman, it made the others want to discover why.

  Although Gabriel was quite sure none of them would discern his reasons.

  Still, he was more than a bit irked to see Viscount Marchland was one of the men seated beside his betrothed. While the others hovering about her were younger and less threatening to a man of Gabriel’s stature, the viscount was beginning to garner a reputation as a dishonorable rake. There were unspoken rules among the rakes of Gabriel’s set, rules which Marchland and his ilk ignored, often to the detriment of the women they were involved with. Ruining innocents didn’t bother Marchland, and there were rumors of worse, yet he was still accepted in polite society because of his father’s influence.

  He was younger than Gabriel, but that just meant he was closer to Vivian in age. Seeing him seated beside her had Gabriel’s chest clenching with the possessive demand to go claim his wife—never mind they hadn’t had the ceremony yet.

  “Relax, Gabriel,” his stepmother murmured, tapping her fan on the arm her hand rested on. Obviously she’d felt the tensing of his muscles. “One would think you’re unhappy to be here.”

  No, he was quite happy to be there, if only to immediately chase off all the young puppies dancing attendance on his bride. Especially Marchland. He didn’t see Audrey’s lips curve when her words had no effect on her stepson; his entire being was focused on the enchanting young woman in green. Being the romantic that she was, Audrey quite approved of his focus, although hopefully he wouldn’t frighten his young bride with his fierce expression.

  Vivian was far too anxious to be frightened. When she’d heard the Earl of Cranborne announced, she’d immediately looked to the door and her breath caught when she met his gaze. His dark eyes seemed to burn into her, making her feel naked and vulnerable. Just the sight of him made her bottom—and more intimate areas—tingle. Slightly older than the young men who were gathered around her, he made them look like unfinished clay next to his polished and confident demeanor. Everything about his attire was impeccable, from the unrelieved black of his outer garments to his crisp white shirt and intricately tied cravat.

  She was so caught up in his glittering gaze she almost forgot to breathe, although her lungs felt so constricted that air seemed like an unnecessary commodity anyway. Beside her, one of the men was saying something, but she couldn’t hear a single word coming from his mouth; all of her attention was on the approaching earl.

  She was so distracted by his mere presence, she almost didn’t notice the woman on his arm until they were nearly to her area. This was his stepmother? The marchioness was a stunning beauty, looking of an age to the earl rather than old enough to be his mother. She had thick chestnut hair with coppery highlights that glinted in the sunlight, bright hazel eyes, and a classically beautiful face with creamy ivory skin. The beautiful violet dress she wore set off her well-endowed figure wonderfully. Vivian was aware that more than one of the young gentlemen who had been paying court to her were now eyeing the other woman with blatant appreciation.

  Seeing the sophisticated and elegant figure the marchioness cut, Vivian was assailed with self-doubt. Could she ever come anywhere close to matching such self-assured beauty?

  Vivian managed a beautiful curtsy to the marchioness and the earl, murmuring a polite greeting. When she looked up again, her future husband was looking at her with a hard expression she didn’t recognize, whereas her future mother-in-law seemed delighted.

  “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Miss Stafford,” the marchioness said as she stepped forward and took Vivian’s hands in her own. “I’m very much looking forward to welcoming you to the family.”

  “I’m very honored,” Vivian said, feeling as though she might faint. It was all she could think of to say, and she could barely get the words out. The earl was still looking angry, although he’d transferred his gaze to Lord Marchland. At least he wasn’t looking at her like that anymore, not that it helped settle her stomach at all. The marchioness smiled warmly at her, which helped to bolster her spirits.

  Noticing her stepson’s expression, the marchioness sighed. “Gabriel, why don’t you take your intended for a walk in the garden?” She smiled at Vivian. “I’ll remain here and entertain these young men for you.”

  “Oh,” Vivian floundered, looking towards the wall where she’d last seen Mrs. Banks standing in hope of receiving some guidance. Several of the men had stiffened upon hearing Vivian openly referred to as Cran-borne’s intended, but Vivian didn’t even notice them as she searched for, and failed to find, her companion. The students weren’t supposed to leave their designated areas, but how could she deny a marchioness? And Mrs. Banks had certainly been adamant she should always follow the earl’s commands.

  The man in question stepped forward, proffering his arm, and her decision was made for her. His lips curved into a small smile as her fingers wrapped around his arm.

  “Hello, Sunrise.”

  Hesitation fled as Vivian smiled back up at him, her heart pounding inside of her chest. He covered her hand with his own and pulled her away from the group with one last dark glance at Lord Marchland. When he turned his gaze back to hers, it was distinctly milder, although still intense. The kind of intensity had changed, however. Before he’d looked angry; now the way he looked at her made her feel rather warm inside.

  He didn’t speak until they were down the steps that led into the gardens. “You look beautiful in that dress.”

  Coming from a man who looked the way he did, the compliment seemed even greater. Vivian blushed with pleasure, a little tingle going through her belly.

  “Thank you, Gabriel.”

  “Aren’t you going to tell me how handsome I look?” he teased, and she relaxed as she smiled shyly back at him.

  “Oh, you look very handsome indeed,” she said. She felt daring as she teased him back. With Mrs. Banks constantly referencing the earl during their evening activities, she’d almost forgotten the more playful side of his personality. “I would have thought you knew.”

  “Of course I know,” he riposted haughtily, and then ruined the effect by winking at her. “I just had to be sure you knew it, too.”

  Vivian’s laughter filled the air as they moved deeper into the gardens. Although Vivian didn’t realize it, Gabriel had been maneuvering them towards the higher plants and bushes since they’d entered them, wanting a few minutes of privacy with his fiancée before he had to return to the party and share her with others. Although he didn’t intend to share her very much.

  “Your stepmother is beautiful,” she murmured, becoming a little more serious. “And very confident.”

  “She’s a marchioness,” he replied easily. “The confidence comes with the title. And while she’s quite beautiful, I have a certain preference for beauties with hair like the dawn.”

  Vivian’s cheeks colored. She knew she would sound as though she were fishing for compliments, but she couldn’t help but ask. “Even though you could have any other woman you want?”

  “Perhaps not any woman,” he murmured, turning towards her now that they were just out of sight, but still within earshot, of the tea party. “I’d say the princess is a bit above my touch.”

  “And you’re far above mine,” she murmured, shrinking in on herself a little, her emerald eyes falling away from his.

  Now that was unacceptable. Gabriel slid his hand behind her neck, cupping the back of it and tilting her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Vivian sucked in a breath as their gazes clashed—he’d gone from being almost friendly and teasing back to irritated.r />
  “Sunrise, Vivian, my future wife,” he said, and the very sound of her name being uttered in his deep, gravelly voice sent a shudder of pleasure through her. “I did have my choice of any woman I wanted, and I chose you, because you are what I want. And if you run yourself down in my hearing again, I will put you over my knee and spank you immediately.”

  Now it felt as though her lungs might actually collapse in on themselves. She didn’t know it, but her pupils dilated, making her green eyes look almost black. The hand on her chin was firm but gentle. He’d both complimented her and threatened her, and the most astonishing wave of tingling need had gone through her at his words. Suddenly he was indeed the man she fantasized about in the evening, every hint of playfulness gone from his demeanor. The man in front of her was an authoritarian, a tyrant, and she was his kingdom.

  Dark eyes bored into hers, demanding a response.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered thickly, although at the moment she could barely remember what she was sorry for.

  Unconsciously she leaned towards him, an innocent but instinctive appeal for comfort and reassurance; for a kiss. He’d be a fool not to oblige her, and Gabriel prided himself on a distinct lack of foolishness. Gabriel slanted his lips over hers, his free arm wrapping around to cage her body the way his other hand had caged her face.

  Warmth bloomed in Vivian’s body as his lips pressed down on hers. Her hands came up automatically to press against his chest. The arm wrapped around her body was unyielding, pressing her into him. Everything about him was hard and muscular against her softness, except his lips, which were so wonderfully soft and inviting. There was a hunger and an urgency that made it unlike their previous kisses; she didn’t realize it was because they were now completely alone, with no chance of interruption, and with the earl’s sexual frustrations of the past weeks riding him hard. The arm around her back tightened, and she gasped. When her lips parted, his tongue thrust into her mouth.

  Gabriel groaned and hauled her closer, delving deeper into her sweet mouth and memorizing the taste and feel of her. Vivian’s body came to life against the earl’s. Her fingers curved inwards around the fabric of his jacket as she shuddered against him, making small, erotic noises in the back of her throat that were muffled against his lips. Tingling awareness filled her, sizzled along her skin, as her breasts grew heavy and full and the area between her legs became swollen and wet. Hunger flared between them. He took possession of her mouth and she let him, feeling as though some need she’d been unaware of during her training was finally being met.

  When the kiss slowed, shallowed, and then ended, she whimpered. The earl placed his lips gently, almost reverently, against hers.

  Someone, one of the other female students, had a high-pitched laugh that impinged on his senses—the only thing that kept him from pulling Vivian deeper into the garden and exploring her further. Although some liberties would be allowed because of their impending nuptials, such a blatant indiscretion would never be excused. Which meant he had to get himself under control, and exert that control over her. His cock felt like it was fit to burst, but he had no intention of undermining Vivian’s sexual education by setting herself up to be humiliated before her peers.

  Because it was obvious she was all too willing to follow where he led.

  His reaction to her passion had been more intense than he could have anticipated. The fantasies she had fueled in him, for months now, were so close to culmination that it was agony to wait for the actual event. At least he could console himself with the thought that on Monday he would be participating in her training, and he would gain some measure of relief. Not to mention he would finally be able to put his hands all over her in the way he desired.

  For the rest of the afternoon, the earl was a perfect gentleman. He danced attendance on Vivian, fetching her a new cup of tea or a new plate of sweets whenever she looked to be in need, charming her with anecdotes about his lands and his family—his sisters sounded delightful— and behaving with such elegant aplomb, she could hardly credit his threat to spank her. His stepmother watched on with amused eyes, her warmth and easy manner helping Vivian relax.

  Although she could see the earl obviously enjoyed catering to her needs, he had an innate arrogant confidence, which was well-merited. Any woman below the age of sixty, and possibly some above, would feel at least a faint flutter of the heart when under his gaze.

  Everything about the earl’s demeanor was possessive; indeed, by the time they had returned from their walk in the garden, Lord Marchland had already quit her area and was sitting with Emily and her entourage. Vivian was rather glad of it, because Gabriel seemed much more relaxed once he saw Lord Marchland had changed his seat. Several of the other young men remained, chatting with both her and the countess (and some of them watching the countess with worshipful, puppy-dog eyes), but none of them seemed to provoke the earl’s ire the way Lord Marchland had.

  Fortunately, none of the young men seemed to mind receiving little more than an absentminded smile when she forgot herself and dwelled on the kiss rather than on the conversation.

  Returning to the school, triumphant and flush with success, the young women had a boisterous and enjoyable dinner together. Vivian managed to have a short, whispered conversation with Emily, sharing the bare-bones of the kiss she and Gabriel had shared in the garden. Afterwards they wanted to spend more time together, but one of the companions informed them that they would be receiving their lectures as usual; plenty of mistakes had still been made that needed to be gone over, even if none of them had been large enough to permanently harm anyone’s social standing or reputation. Lady Astoria twitted at Vivian that she would probably be scolded for going off with Lord Cranborne, even if he was her betrothed. Even knowing that Astoria’s scathing tone probably had more to do with her jealousy than anything else, Vivian couldn’t help but be a bit worried about the possible repercussions if she was right.

  Not that she could think of what else she could have done.

  Gabriel’s carriage ride home was not as comfortable as he might have wished. The afternoon had been akin to torture, to have Vivian so close and yet be unable to even touch her without breaking the bounds of propriety. Their short walk and the clinging kiss had been risky enough. Despite their engagement, blatant misbehavior would still reflect badly upon her and would damage her reputation, which could have consequences for her younger sisters. Such were the vagaries of the ton.

  Because of that, he was already feeling temperamental, and his emotional state was not assisted by remembering the way Lord Marchland had been sitting so closely to Vivian when he’d first arrived. Originally he hadn’t planned to attend the at-homes he’d been informed she and the other students would be going to this upcoming week, but after seeing the men surrounding her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. So more torturous afternoons where he would be able to look but not touch. He hated that he had to wait until Monday evening to truly touch her again, and he would have an even longer wait after that to claim her irrevocably. He wanted peace and quiet to think and to plan and to fantasize about the upcoming week.

  Instead he got a chattering stepmother who was practically glowing as she praised his future wife. He was glad Audrey was so excited about her new daughter and that she would be giving his father a favorable report, but he wished she would ride silently and keep her observations to herself. of course he could always order her to be quiet, and she would, but it would hurt her feelings, and that his father would assuredly not tolerate. So he did his best to nod in appropriate places and keep a tight grip on his temper.

  Perhaps it was for the best that Audrey was there to distract him, he thought with resignation. After all, a carriage ride with an unrelenting erection—as would have been the result if he’d been able to think about the upcoming week and Vivian’s training—was probably not a comfortable way to travel.

  When Mrs. Banks finally arrived in Vivian’s room that evening, her neutral expression didn’t
give away any of her thoughts. Nervously, Vivian stood and went to her punishment chair to hear the list of transgressions. She was almost eager to hear them, on a day that had been a true test of the lessons she’d been learning. She also wanted reassurance that she’d done the correct thing by taking a walk with the earl; part of her wondered if she should confess that wonderful kiss, but she didn’t want to. Somehow it seemed like something private, but she didn’t want to discover Mrs. Banks already knew about it and that it would be counted among her transgressions.

  After all, a kiss was certainly indiscreet behavior, especially given the venue, even if it was with her intended.

  But the walk was not included in the list of mistakes Mrs. Banks read off of her notebook. The actual list was quite precise, full of small nuances that were not truly transgressions but were more areas of improvement—such as her obvious focus on Lord Cranborne and her attempts to discover things of a more personal nature when she was directing the conversation among a group. Such was not how a hostess was to engage her guests, and Vivian had known it even as she had done it.

  Still, she couldn’t regret such behavior, as the earl had seemed pleased by her obvious focus on him, even if the other young men hadn’t. And she had found that, almost immediately, she very much wanted to please him. Not just for the sake of her family or the state of her bottom, either.

  When Mrs. Banks’s recitation came to an end, Vivian perked up a bit in surprise.

  “Mrs. Banks?” she asked hesitantly.

  The companion raised an eyebrow at her, surprised by Vivian’s hesitation. Several weeks into her training, Vivian had moved seamlessly from recitation to punishment, without interruption. The young woman’s usual good behavior meant she must have some reason for delaying her punishment, although if she was doing so for a frivolous reason then Mrs. Banks would just add to it.