Dealing With Discipline (5 page)

Brooke raised an eyebrow. "That
surprises me, I always thought Irene wanted to travel more than she
was able to.  But I’m sure she feels that it's more important
to see her new home."

"Hmm, perhaps," said Hugh,
slightly perplexed but not wanting to show it. Irene had been
rather adamant about not wanting to travel.  Then again,
perhaps Brooke didn't know her as well as he thought he did. 
He rather liked that interpretation.

A flurry of activity at the bottom
of the staircase drew the men's attention and they turned to see
Eleanor and Irene descending.  Irene had changed into a dress
more suited for travel, made of muslin which had been dyed forest
green; the clever cut showed off her neat figure quite nicely,
although the tempting expanse of bosom that her wedding gown had
displayed was no longer visible.  The vivid color went
beautifully with her coloring, much more so than her previous gown
which had made her pale cheeks seem even paler even if her hair had
flamed by contrast.

Hugh drew in a little breath at
the sight of her, already picturing peeling the dress off of her
and revealing all the delightful sights that it was modestly
covering.  Beside him Brooke stirred and gave him an amused
look, content at seeing the expression of near-infatuation on
Hugh's face. With a quick word of farewell, Hugh was striding
eagerly across the room to claim his wife, leaving Edwin and Brooke
to amuse themselves at his expense.

******

The carriage carrying Hugh and Irene
away disappeared down the street and most of the guests began
calling for their own carriages.  As the weather was rather
mild, some of the younger set chose to saunter down the street,
ostensibly headed for Hyde Park which was only two blocks away.
 Eleanor watched them all rather enviously; unfortunately she
was not able to leave until her husband chose to. 

Her husband who was obviously not
entirely happy with her at the moment.

If asked, she couldn't have explained
why she’d spent most of the morning avoiding him. They hadn't been
seated near each other at the meal, as it was their duty to help
host the brunch, and after that she had found herself playing a
game of cat and mouse with him.  Part of her wanted to see how
long he would follow. Part of her wanted to watch him interact with
other women while she wasn't standing by his side.  And part
of her just wanted to run. 

Eventually her father had caught up
with her, sat her down in a chair and told her not to move because
she was making him dizzy with her constant rotations round the
room.  Edwin, seeing the exchange, had grinned triumphantly at
her (and that burned as badly as when he’d bested her during their
childhood) and then allowed himself to be drawn into conversation
with his friends while she sat in her chair and
sulked. 

Considering that she'd finally been
given strict orders to stay in one place she had thought that he
would finally, definitively, catch up with her, not ignore her!
 It rankled and made her even more out of temper with
him.

Once she'd returned to the
festivities, after helping a rather nervous Irene change into her
traveling gown, Edwin had re-appeared at her side and she hadn't
been able to get away since.  Her hand was tucked into his
elbow, his other hand covering hers to keep her securely connected
to him.  A few experimental tugs had produced nothing more
than a scowl in her direction before he'd pulled her even closer to
him, pressing her hand between his arm and side.  

 “
What a lovely wedding,” her
mother sighed, as Edwin and Eleanor approached. She was standing
next to Eleanor’s father, who was chatting with Wesley. Lady
Harrington was practically glowing with happiness despite the
almost translucent quality to her skin and the bags and dark
circles under her eyes. Edwin wondered if she was quite well, and
then remembered that planning this wedding had probably taken a bit
of a toll on her. “I can’t believe we managed to get both of you
married off, to such wonderful matches, all in one Season.” Beaming
at Edwin, Eleanor’s mother looked practically blissful. Inwardly
Eleanor sighed, but she didn’t have it in her heart to dampen her
mother’s spirits by making any tart remarks about her own marriage.
Besides which, she was under the distinct impression that Edwin was
at the end of his patience with her for the day.

“Which means that you’ll be able
to return to Bath soon,” Lord Harrington said, joining the
conversation and smiling down gently as his wife as he took her
hand and looped it around her arm.

Edwin could feel his own wife
stiffen at his side and he looked down at her, wondering at the
reaction, but her face was completely void of expression. Very
blank in fact, which was rather unusual for her.

“Will you join me there soon?” Lady Harrington
asked rather wistfully.

“For a bit, my dear,” Lord
Harrington replied, patting her hand. “I’ve completed most of my
business in town for the moment.” The smile that spread across Lady
Harrington’s face was nothing short of brilliant, quite similar to
the genuine smiles that would flash across Eleanor’s when the
situation warranted it.

Not that it had today. Edwin was
eager to get his wife home where he could question her as to her
odd behavior, but it wouldn’t do to be rude and leave too hastily.
After all there were still a few guests mingling in the foray as
they awaited their carriages, but he kept her firmly planted at his
side as they circulated. He’d had quite enough chasing her around
during the previous hours.

She looked beautiful today, in a
dark rose colored gown that displayed her splendid bosom to
advantage without being overly revealing. Apparently that lesson
had been well learned – forcibly planted into her bottom
really.  The wisps of honey blonde hair that had escaped her
pins curled and caressed the delicate length of her neck and it was
all Edwin could do not to wrap the strands around his
fingers.  Eleanor entranced him, enchanted him… that is when
she wasn’t driving him completely mad. As she was wont to
do.

It seemed to take hours, although
it couldn’t have been more than forty five minutes, before they
were able to take their leave from her parents. The carriage ride
back to their home a few streets away was quiet as Edwin gathered
his thoughts, knowing that his silence was unnerving Eleanor. 
She pretended to be engrossed in staring out the window but she
kept darting little glances his way, her cheeks alternatively
blushing and paling.  Edwin just stared straight ahead, which
meant that he was looking slightly over her head.  Not quite
at her.

When the carriage stopped he
exited first and waved the footman off. He would help his wife down
herself.  

Nell nibbled at her plump lower
lip when she saw him standing there waiting with one hand
outstretched, but she delicately placed hers in it and stepped
down.  Unwilling to look at him, she kept her eyes downcast,
pretending to be adjusting her skirts as he curled her hand around
his arm again, and led her towards the house.  There was just
the slightest amount of resistance from her, as if she wanted to
pull away but didn't dare to.

Good. At least she wasn't so
willfully stupid as to make a scene in the street.  It had
been bad enough wondering whether or not anyone other than Hugh,
Wesley and her father had noticed him pursuing her around her
parents' house this morning.  His friends had because he'd
been complaining of her odd behavior to them before the ceremony
and so they'd been watching afterwards. Otherwise he might have
escaped the embarrassment of providing them with some
entertainment.

The tugging of her hand to get
away from his grip increased once they stepped through the front
door of course.  Edwin nodded at Banks before turning his head
to speak low into Eleanor's ear.  

"Let's go to the library, I'd like
to speak with you."

Chapter 3

Although Edwin’s words had the
sound of a request, Eleanor knew that they were an order and she
felt both more anxious and slightly calmer.  At least it
wasn't his study, with that awful chair that seemed like it had
been made to bend her over for discipline. It was far too like the
one that she’d grown up bending over in her father’s study.
 Not that she'd done anything that truly merited a punishment
this morning, although she was sure Edwin was quite frustrated with
how elusive she'd been during the wedding
celebrations. 

Reluctantly she nodded and allowed
him to lead her to the library.  She swept in, ignoring the
chairs in favor of freedom of movement, standing as far away from
him as she could get as he closed the heavy doors behind them.
 They stood across the room from each other, he by the doors
studying her, and her by the windows facing to the side so that she
could see out of the window while still keeping an eye on
him. 

He crossed over to the desk,
which was behind her, forcing her to turn to face him if she wanted
to keep him within her line of vision. Despite the fact that he was
several meters away, she felt rather crowded just by the sheer
force of his presence. It struck her again what an incredibly
attractively dangerous man her husband was, and she could feel
herself weakening towards him, wanting to touch him, kiss
him,
be
with him.
And yet she couldn’t allow herself to do that. Be like her mother?
Who was already being exiled to Bath now that Hugh’s wedding was
over?

Who knew when her father would let
his wife return to London once he had her safely ensconced away
from the capital; yet her mother would accept it, make the best of
it and pretend to be happy even as she was sighing with longing for
her husband. It didn’t matter that her father was going to
accompany her now, eventually he would leave her mother there and,
without Eleanor, she’d be lonelier than ever.

Well Eleanor would never find
herself in that trap. If Edwin didn’t have the same feelings for
her as she did for him, then she would wall her own feelings away
and never let them see the light of day.

Yet part of her still hoped that
perhaps there was something more to his emotions than just absent
minded affection or the care a man might have for a woman he’d
grown up with. More than the passion that flared up between them on
a regular basis.

“Would you like to explain your
behavior this morning?” Edwin asked, his voice deceptively calm.
She could feel every one of her muscles tense, the skin on the back
of her neck crawling. A casual observer, one who had not grown up
with Edwin, wouldn’t have heard the danger in that tone. Wouldn’t
see the stubborn set of his shoulders, the authoritative tilt of
his head. It was the same voice she’d heard him use when he was
twelve and had confronted the son of one of his father’s tenants
about putting a frog down the back of Eleanor’s dress.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” she said airily as she swept to the other side of
the room, keeping the desk between them and lengthening the amount
of space. Part of her knew that she shouldn’t needle him like this,
that she should at least acknowledge that she’d been making him
chase her all around Hugh and Irene’s wedding brunch. At the very
least she should ask him what he was talking about, but no, she had
to phrase it in such a way that made it clear she was avoiding the
issue. That she was baiting him.

There had to be something wrong
with her, because intellectually she knew what the best course of
action was and yet she poked at him instead. It was like poking a
tiger with a stick. All fun and games, until the tiger realized
that the door to its cage was open.

“I’m sure that
you do,” Edwin said, his voice taking on a darker, more dangerous
edge, no longer quite so placid or calm. The war going on inside of
Eleanor made her feel particularly testy as she battled her desire
for him, fighting against her feelings for him by fighting
against
him.
“You
certainly led me a merry dance around your parents until your
father took you in hand.”

Eleanor sniffed. “I was just
being sociable. A good hostess. I don’t understand what that has to
do with you. Whatever you imagined I was doing, you shouldn’t take
it so personally.”
Stop
it
, she wanted to yell at herself. At the
same time she was too fascinated by toying with him. Angling for a
reaction that was something other than controlled and
dignified.

Wondering if perhaps pushing him to a place
beyond his control would reveal something of his true feelings for
her.

Her husband took a step towards
her and Eleanor eyed him warily, her clenched fists hidden in her
skirts. She didn’t want him to see what an effort maintaining this
indifferent and careless pose was for her.

“I took it
personally,
madam
, because you spent the entire morning avoiding me while I
wanted to spend it with my wife on my arm.” The taut anger in his
voice was more than a warning sign and yet she found herself
recklessly enjoying it. Nearly as much as she enjoyed hearing him
admit that he wanted to spend time with her, although she would
have preferred if he’d said ‘you.’ Would he have wanted any wife of
his on his arm, or was it only because she was his
wife?