by Golden Angel
Cynthia shrugged. "I've been a bit of a trial to her, on occasion, I'm afraid." She didn't look particularly sorry about it though, Eleanor thought with amusement. "I didn't think she'd want me as her son’s Countess, but she seems rather eager to become the Dowager."
"Well Wesley's been a trial to her his whole life," Eleanor said, smiling cheerfully. "And she still likes him. Perhaps she thinks he deserves you. Unless you're overcome by a sudden desire to behave now that you're going to be a Countess?"
To her surprise, Cynthia hesitated. Her hand rubbed the side of her bottom. "Well... not entirely. Although the Earl doesn't react quite like the Countess when I do."
Rather shocked at the revealing gesture, Eleanor stared at her. "Did he spank you?"
Somehow she couldn't imagine it. Oh yes, her brother had been raised to do so. And serious, dictatorial Edwin... it had been surprising but not entirely shocking that he disciplined her in such a way - especially considering that he was the man her father had chosen out for her. But charming, easy-going, good-tempered Wesley who was always quick with a joke? He had spanked his ward?
"More than once," Cynthia said rather ruefully, blushing although she appeared to be attempting to look nonchalant about it. "He ah... may have caught me kissing Mr. Carter last night."
"Oh dear..." Well, perhaps Eleanor could understand Wesley's reaction then; she'd seen the way he watched Cynthia. Still, it was hard for her to get her head around the idea.
It seemed that Cynthia was eager to share, wanting someone to talk to about the experience, because she leaned forward so that she could lower her voice a bit. "He spanked me in the carriage... much harder than he's done before. I'm still sore today but I can't let on in front of the Countess, I don't know what she'd think. But he spanked me and then he put his hand between my legs, which he'd never done before... is that usual? It felt wonderful but I'm a bit worried since almost immediately after he told me that we would be married. Are you sure it's only a man's cock in there that can get a woman with child?"
Eleanor found herself at an utter loss for words. So many revelations that she absolutely had not needed about her childhood friend! She turned bright red just thinking about him in such a way. It seemed he was more akin to her husband that she'd realized, despite their different temperaments. If Wesley had touched Cynthia like that then no wonder he had decided to marry her, although Eleanor was still shocked that Wesley found such activities arousing. She didn't want to think about it, he was so much like a brother to her... did that mean that her own brother-
Oh stop, stop!
She had to answer Cynthia’s questions and halt that line of thought.
"My understanding is that it must be a man's... ah... rod, because of the seed that is expelled from it," she responded, slightly dazed, in such a low whisper that Cynthia had to lean even further forward to hear her. "His fingers can't... ah, won't...” Eleanor felt her face turning even brighter red. She shook her head, trying her best not to picture the situation in my mind, when something else Cynthia had said finally came to her attention. “Did you say he told you that you're getting married? He didn't ask you?"
Cynthia shook her head. "He took me to my room last night, after he spanked me in the carriage, but he didn't do anything but kiss me. I thought he was going to, but he didn’t... and then when I asked why he didn’t, he said I'd have to wait until we were married to be completely ruined."
Rubbing her fingers to her temples, which were suddenly pounding, Eleanor wondered what on earth was wrong with her male friends. First Edwin and now Wesley. At least her own brother had done the right thing and been betrothed and married in the proper way. Although it somehow seemed completely ironically appropriate that Wesley, great rake that he was, would insist on his bride being a virgin on their wedding night, to the point of refusing to do the deed himself. He could be surprisingly conservative in some ways. Even if he was rushing the wedding.
Of course, if he was amenable to bedding Cynthia before the wedding perhaps he wouldn't be in such a rush to get to the alter. Or perhaps he would be in more of one so that it wouldn’t be too telling to count back the months after her first child was born.
"Well he did the right thing in that regard. Although I can't believe he was so... so... bloody man, he should have asked."
As Cynthia burst out laughing at Eleanor's surprising cursing, she found herself giggling a bit as well.
“Would you have said yes if he asked?”
Cynthia nodded firmly. “Absolutely. He’s… so very exciting isn’t he?” she asked in a wistful voice. Eleanor heard the desire in her voice for something more than exciting, something more like the emotions that Eleanor yearned to have from Edwin, but she didn’t think Cynthia would have too much to worry about.
As far as she could tell, Wesley was well on his way to being in love with his fiancé. She’d never known him to lose control the way he apparently did around Cynthia. And if he didn’t want to marry her, he would have never done so.
The Countess came swanning back into the room a moment later, causing Eleanor to give silent thanks that she hadn't been in hearing distance of Eleanor's intemperate language mere minutes before. Beaming, the Countess showed them the sage and cream linens that she'd been looking for and began chattering about the arrangements for the ceremony and wedding breakfast to follow.
Although she was already feeling exhausted, Eleanor pasted a smile on her face as she listened. Edwin was still with Wesley and she wasn't going to send to him to ask if they could take their leave, everyone would realize there was something wrong with her. Something more than just an illness.
Her hand wandered back down to her belly, stroking the fabric over it without thinking about it. Before she told Edwin that she was with child, she would do everything she could to secure his affections and ensure that he wouldn't be like other husbands, who lost interest in their wives once they were breeding.
And the bloody man better make a damned declaration sometime soon!
******
As soon as the library door closed behind Eleanor, Edwin's face broke out in the grin that he was keeping constantly suppressed lately. Even larger and brighter than the one he’d given Wesley when congratulating him on his engagement.
"You must congratulate me as well," he told Wesley, his chest near bursting with the news. "Eleanor is enceinte!"
Wesley let out a whoop, splashing some of his whiskey out of his glass (not that either of them noticed) and the two men hugged each other fiercely, before Wesley broke away and shook Edwin's hand, congratulating him. "But why didn't she say anything while she was in here?"
"Yes well... I have to ask you not to share the news just yet," Edwin said, "as she hasn't officially told me."
"Then how do you know?"
Edwin snorted. "Please. You know how Nell adores social events, and yet she wasn't at the Assembly last night."
"I thought she wasn't feeling well."
"She hasn't been feeling well for quite some time, although she does her best to hide it. And she's been particularly unwell in the mornings, her maid told me. Besides which, I can count as well as the next man."
Grinning, Wesley went to his cabinet. "This calls for a special drink. The good brandy. Even if I can't congratulate you officially or mention it to her yet. Why do you think she hasn't told you?"
"Who knows," Edwin said, waving his hand. "I assume she's waiting to be absolutely sure... or perhaps she's worried I'll curtail our social activities if she tells me. Which she'd be absolutely right about, I’ll be ensuring that she doesn’t wear herself out; I'm extremely relieved we're already in Bath where it's much easier to do so. Not that it was difficult last night, she actually asked to stay home."
"Well it's a good thing you already knew what was wrong, or you might have thought it was something serious," Wesley said, handing Edwin a snifter of his best French brandy. The situation called for it. Good grief... in two weeks’ time, their entire little cadre woul
d be married and one of them was already with child.
He wondered how he would feel when Cynthia carried his child. Proud, certainly. Would his eyes have the same radiance that Edwin's did? The silly, soppy grin on Edwin's face should have made Wesley shake his head at the poor sod, as it would have a month ago. Instead he just felt glad for his friend and eager for the day when he might wear a similar expression. Gads, that was almost terrifying.
"So, decided you couldn't live without your ward, eh? Or was it your mother's practicing that tipped your hand?"
"Ah... well. Certainly my mother contributed, which I’m starting to suspect was her intention, but last night during the carriage ride home... well let's just say that matters progressed to a point where a marriage proposal would be expected, if not strictly necessary."
Edwin shook his head, laughing. "That is not in the least bit surprising. I wish Hugh had been here, we could have placed bets on when you would fall.”
“I wasn’t that obvious,” Wesley objected, getting an arch look from his friend.
“I'm more surprised that you're waiting two weeks to do the deed."
"My mother, you know," Wesley said with a shrug, looking faintly sheepish. "I knew she'd want to plan something and I found I couldn't deny her the opportunity. Still, two weeks is better than four."
Nodding, Edwin could only feel grateful that his own parents had no taste for such events. They'd been overjoyed that he'd married Eleanor, eager for him to bring her to the Manse, but not at all put out that they'd missed the actual wedding. Although, he'd have to put off traveling there now for a bit longer, until after Wesley's wedding at least. His parents would understand. Still, he was looking forward to eventually being home, and his mother would be a solid support for Eleanor while she was breeding. He had no doubt that Lady Harrington, and her possibly her husband, would join them there as well until it was Eleanor's time, which would also delight his parents. They did enjoy friends visiting, even if they preferred not to leave the estates themselves.
"I've written Hugh and Alex," Wesley continued. "And told my mother to include them on the guest list, but I wanted to ensure they'd be able to come. Figured I should inform them as soon as possible. Did Hugh tell you that Alex is determined to reconcile with Lady Brooke?"
"Yes... I'll be interested to see how that plays out. Do you think he might bring her to the wedding?"
"Could be the perfect opportunity. Sentimental event and all that; women love that kind of thing. Besides which, I doubt he'll want to conduct his reconciliation under the eyes of the ton in London. Removing her to Bath under the excuse of a wedding and then going further afield would be a viable strategy."
"If he can get her out of London with him at all,” Edwin mused, thinking about Lady Brooke’s stubbornness. It rivaled his wife’s. “Well, Eleanor would be glad to see Grace again, although I can't imagine what she would think about the circumstances."
Not to mention the other couple that would also certainly be attending the wedding. Thinking back to the last time Grace and Irene had been in the same room, Edwin couldn't help but wince a little. Although if Lord Brooke was going to reestablish his marriage, the women were just going to have to learn to get along.
He hoped.
Chapter 12
When the letter arrived, it was immediately taken to the study and read as soon as the master of the house was told the address from whence it came. And then Hugh laughed so hard he cried, leaning back against his chair and actually holding his belly. Hearing his laughter, his curious wife came in, having just returned from a visit with her mother. She didn’t make them as often as her mother liked, and whenever she returned home she searched out Hugh from some much needed bolstering.
"Hugh? What is it?"
Still chuckling, Hugh waved the letter in his hand. "Wesley's getting married."
"Really?"
Hugh laughed again at Irene's obvious surprise as she approached his desk. He waved her closer and she smiled as she walked around the side. Today she looked particularly fetching in a morning gown of dark forest green that emphasized her green eyes and make her hair look even more coppery than usual. In the sunlight, her pale skin was almost luminescent. The soft folds of the gown clung to her slender figure and rounded breasts. Reaching out, he grasped her hand and pulled her onto his lap, which was where he liked her best.
"Hugh!" Irene fell down laughing, wriggling her soft bottom around on his thighs and stirring his interest as her feminine curves pressed against him. Looping his arm around her slim waist, he grinned as he realized that she wasn't wearing a corset. She often didn't around the house, unless they were expecting guests or she was having an at-home. Hugh preferred it that way, and it wasn’t as if she truly needed one. His wife had a wonderfully slight figure.
"See?" Hugh said, pointing at the pertinent section in the letter as Irene settled against him. "He's marrying his ward, Cynthia."
"The woman his mother described as a demon sent to plague her into an early grave? That's not very nice." Irene's eyes scanned the paragraph and blinked with surprise. "He says the Countess seems happy about it?"
"Apparently. Either she changed her mind about Miss Bryant being a demon, or she’s just so relieved that Wesley is to be married that she doesn’t care to who. Which I can understand, since I wouldn’t have placed bets on him running to the alter anytime soon. They're to be married in two weeks. How would you like to go to Bath, sweetheart?"
"And miss the end of the Season? Oh tragedy," Irene said dramatically, pressing her hand to her bosom as she rolled her eyes. Hugh chuckled and kissed the upturned underside of her chin. Bath might not be the country, but he wasn't at all surprised that Irene would still find it preferable to London, especially if it meant quitting the end of the Season early. And the way things had been going so far this Season, it wouldn't be a bad thing to end their Season early when it was for a socially acceptable reason such as Wesley's wedding. Now that he knew how excitable Irene was, some months away from London where she could continue to build her confidence away from her mother and also learn to control her impulses, sounded extremely beneficial. She’d been thrust into the social scene as his wife largely unprepared, by next Season he was sure that she’d be more comfortable in her position and with herself. But they couldn’t have just left without a reasonable excuse or it would have set tongues wagging; however, Wesley’s wedding was the perfect opportunity as no one would see anything strange in it. There would be no reason to speculate that the recent interaction with Lady Brooke had anything to do with their departure, for example.
In fact, Hugh wouldn't be surprised if quite a few members of the ton also left the capital early in order to attend the Earl of Spencer's wedding. Not just because Wesley was important as both an Earl and for business he created when he was in India, but because of his reputation. The dragons of the ton (many of whom were friends with the Countess) would want to see the downfall of a rake so they could crow smugly over it, the men would want to come and see what woman had managed to catch the notorious Earl of Spencer (and share a drink over another fallen comrade), and the young wives and widows would want to see if Wesley would remain true to his usual ways or if he had reformed. Hugh highly suspected that those ladies would be disappointed.
Although Wesley's wedding certainly wouldn't deplete attendance of the Season. There was still the marriage mart to keep it going, those members of Society who never left London, not to mention the simple fact that there were several major events upcoming that would have to be missed in order to attend the wedding. None of which was a concern for Hugh, but would be for many others.
"I wonder why the sudden decision," Irene said, as she finished reading the letter and shaking Hugh from his thoughts. "He doesn't say anything about how or why this came about."
"Probably compromised her beyond redemption."
"Hugh! What a thing to say about your friend!" Irene gave him a baleful look, lightly slapping his chest. "I'm sure Lo
rd Spencer did no such thing." There was a hint of doubt in her voice, but not much. One thing that Hugh had noticed was that Irene tended to take people at face value, something that wasn’t always wise to do but which he adored about her. She’d learn eventually, but he did enjoy her innocence for now, especially when it meant she hadn’t seen Wesley for what he truly was.
"You have a very rosy view of my friends, sweetheart."
"Because you're all gentlemen and should behave as such," his wife said, rather primly. Hugh loved it when she was prim, it made debauching her so much more entertaining. It wasn't that she’d forgotten about when he had made love to her outside under the sun, or that she'd forgotten the spankings she'd received at his hand, and she was a creative and passionate lover, but she held onto certain notions sometimes...
"If you say so, dear," Hugh said, leaning forward to nuzzle his face into the soft curve of her breasts. He breathed in her scent, lavender and woman and utterly intoxicating; he tightened his arm about her waist and brought his other hand down to clamp around her thigh.
"Hugh!" Laughing, Irene tried to push him away, but he just growled and held on more tightly, turning her slightly so that he could bury his face between the delightful mounds. Her morning dress didn't show a lot of cleavage, but enough to tease him, enough to allow him to lick her skin in between her breasts. Sliding his hand up from her thigh to cup her breast, Hugh squeezed it gently, and she gasped, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Hugh, we can't! The door's unlocked!"
"Adds a certain flair to the situation, doesn't it?" He whispered back, teasingly as his fingers tweaked her nipple and then moved on to begin undoing her buttons at the top of her dress. He loved buttons down the front of a dress. “We could be interrupted at any moment and then someone would see me making love to my beautiful wife…”
"Hugh, no, stop," Irene whispered, giggling nervously, although obviously unsure as to whether or not he was serious in his intent. The little darting glances she gave at the door as a fiery blush rose in her cheeks, combined with her squirming bottom on his lap and her useless attempt to bat his hands away from her buttons, was delightful. Hugh’s cock was pressed against the underside of her bottom, already achingly hard as he teased her. The sides of her dress fell open, revealing the creamy mounds of her breasts through the thin chemise she was wearing, with the rosy pink hint of her nipple.
