Dealing With Discipline (9 page)

Cool air brushed over her wrist as he flicked
back the fabric and began to gently tug it from her hand.
 Irene was ensnared, captivated, by the hungry look in his
blue eyes, the feel of her glove slowly being tugged away.
 She gasped when he touched her hand without that thin
covering, the pads of his fingers almost harsh against her softer
palm. 

Very slowly, watching her very
carefully as if he was afraid she might bolt, Hugh lifted her hand
to his lips and pressed them to the center of her palm.
 Irene's heart felt like it might actually burst out of her
chest it was thumping so hard, her breasts heaving against her
corset as if she'd just run through a field or galloped on a horse.
 Soft... his lips were soft... but his eyes were hard as
sapphires and that caused just as much consternation in her body as
the warm press of his lips against her skin. 

Then he was lowering her hand and she was
surprised to feel a pang of disappointment, although he kept her
hand in his. 

For himself, Hugh was all too
aware of the need to hold onto his self-control.  Irene was a
complete innocent, although obviously attracted to him.  Her
passionate nature was hidden but present, and while he looked
forward to undoing her inhibitions he had not meant to finish his
quest in a moving carriage. Only to begin his seduction.  Her
flushed cheeks and quickened breath indicated that he'd awakened
some of her senses, and he needed to get his own back under control
before he ended up ravishing his bride along a country
road. 

"I hope you will like Stonehaven and the
Stanley House," he said, his voice somewhat rougher than normal as
he shifted in his seat, trying to relieve the pressure on his groin
without her seeing what he was doing.  If she'd even realize
the significance of the bulge at the front of his breeches.
 "Especially Stanley House, as I spend at least half the year
there and I'd like you to be there with me."

Irene smiled somewhat tremulously,
surprised at her reaction, which was pleasure at the thought.
 Surely she couldn't enjoy the idea of spending her time with
Hugh over being with Alex in London? Even if the time with Hugh
would be out in the country. Goodness... she'd almost forgotten
Alex completely when Hugh had begun to touch her! Guilt from the
other side suffused her.  What kind of flighty woman was she,
to forget her one true love just because another man was touching
her?

True, no man had ever touched her bare skin
the way her husband just had, but that was certainly no
excuse. 

Confused, Irene pushed her
feelings to the side and concentrated on what Hugh was telling her
about the estates.  At least she could appreciate his obvious
love for the country.  She was rather enjoying his
conversation, something else that she hadn’t entirely expected.
Irene had become rather used to keeping to herself ever since Alex
had gone to school; it was nice to have someone interested in what
she was thinking, to ask her questions and want to
converse.

"I haven't had the pleasure of
seeing you truly ride," Hugh was saying, smiling at her with that
almost devilishly attractive smile of his.  If she hadn't been
in love with Alex, and if Hugh's touch didn't do such disturbing
things to her body, she might have been able to fall in love with
him for that smile alone.  He truly looked like an angel when
he smiled like that. "I'm looking forward to doing so once we're in
the country."

Her returning smile was one of
pure pleasure and anticipation. "I do love to ride.  I enjoyed
exercising your horses through Hyde Park, but you're right, they
were not nearly as enjoyable as being in the country where I can
gallop."

"Well then we will have to make
sure that we get our fill of riding before we must return to town,"
Hugh said with a laugh, squeezing her hand - and, it felt like, the
air out of her lungs again.

******

Stonehaven was much larger than
any residence Irene had ever been to, even out in the country when
she’d attended a few house parties with her mother.  It fair
took her breath away, even if Hugh hadn't been doing that on a
regular basis throughout the entire carriage ride. He'd helped her
put her glove back on as they'd driven down the lane, but even so
his touch still burned when he helped to hand her down from the
coach.  The small smile on his face indicated his pleasure at
her delighted and amazed reaction to his family
home. 

Indeed, the carriage ride had
served to make Irene look almost deliciously disheveled; softer,
with wisps of hair around her face that had escaped from her
coiffure. The wrinkles in her dress only made him wish that he’d
been responsible for some of them. While she looked less
sophisticated, she also looked much more approachable… less like a
model of what a proper young lady should look like and more like a
flushed, happy young woman. He’d like to make her look even more
flushed and happy.

But he would not descend on his
wife like a ravening beast, even if he felt like one after
torturing himself the entire carriage ride by touching her the soft
skin of her hand, watching her soft, pink, tempting lips as she
spoke, and smelling the sweetness of her skin as it permeated the
small confines of the carriage.  Irene smelled like a dream
and he couldn’t wait to bury his face in her hair and
breasts.

“Welcome to Stonehaven, dearest,”
he said, lifting her gloved hand to his lips. For once she didn’t
blush at the contact, she was too busy examining the house with
something akin to awe.

It was beautiful, larger than any house she’d
ever been to before, and yet somehow as welcoming as it was
imposing. While she’d known the reputation of the house as being
made entirely of stone, she hadn’t expected the dappled appearance
of the walls. Most buildings she had seen that were made of stone
were done so in rocks of the same color.

“Is it really all made of stone?”
she asked, blinking as she stared up at the impressive four stories
and the many windows that were set in rows. Curtains were visible
through all of them, although she couldn’t tell the exact color of
the highest row.

“Hence the name,” Hugh said with a grin,
wrapping her hand around his arm as he began to lead her towards
the entrance.

“I always wondered which came
first,” she admitted, looking up at the monstrosity. “The name or
the house.”

Hugh laughed. “The house,
although the stone was taken from the quarries around the land here
so I can see how you might have thought otherwise. If the
area
had
been
known as Stonehaven already, it would have only made sense to build
the house with it. Although, of course, inside there’s wood
paneling on the floors and walls. It’s only the outside of the
house that’s made with stone.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said
honestly. She rather liked the uniqueness of its structure,
although by modern standards it was rather mundane, without the
more decorative baroque elements that were currently all the rage.
Irene thought that the simplicity of Stonehaven’s lines were very
appealing and the various hues of black, white and grey more than
enough decoration.

Her husband seemed pleased by her
appreciation of the house, although her admiration was nothing but
the truth. For herself, Irene enjoyed the tour although she was
quite sure that she wouldn’t remember the location of every room
that he showed her. Fortunately they would spend most of their time
in the public rooms and the East wing, which is where the family’s
rooms were, so that was what she concentrated on trying to
memorize.

“This is my room,” Hugh said and Irene felt a
vivid blush rising in her cheeks as he led her into one of the
bedrooms along the second floor hall. 

“Oh…” she said as he crossed over to open the
drapes a bit more and let more light in.  The room was
furnished with heavy wood and moss green drapes and cushions,
without the slightest hint of a woman’s touch.  The heavy bed
was huge, larger than any she’d seen before and she walked forward
in amazement to examine it more closely.  The four posts were
carved with nothing more than a few swirls around their lengths,
the coverlet on the bed a slightly lighter shade of green than the
curtains and cushions of the chairs.

Suddenly she was aware that Hugh
had moved and he was standing behind her. Standing very closely
behind her, his hot breath on the back of her neck making the
little hairs all over her body rise.  The infernally strange
reaction that she seemed to have every time he was near had slowly
dissolved somewhat during the long carriage ride as she’d become
accustomed to his presence, but now it had returned more intensely
than ever.  Turning to face him she took a step back,
discomfited by the gleam in his eye, only to run into the
bed.

The gleam seemed to shine brighter as he took
a step forward, effectively trapping her between himself and the
very large piece of furniture.

She could barely breathe as her
husband looked down at her, one lock of blonde hair falling across
his forehead.  For some strange reason she wanted to reach up
and brush it back, but she was too frozen to move.

"Well, our room really," he said,
the smile on his face softening and he stepped back as if he was
aware that he'd startled her. “I hope, if you agree.”

"Our room?" she echoed, her mind struggling to
catch up with what he was saying.  

"Yes, our room," he said, stepping
towards her and reaching to grasp her hand.  The very
closeness of her body set her heart thumping madly, her body
thrumming with a strange kind of physical awareness that she'd
never experienced before.  It was similar to the disquiet that
he usually stirred within but much more intense.  "I know
it's not the usual thing, but I would prefer to share a room with
you, if you do not object."

"Oh..." she said, unsure of how
she should react.  But she did want to be a good and obedient
wife to Hugh, even if her heart was with another man, and her
husband obviously wanted her to say yes. Irene was good at doing
what other people wanted. "That would be nice."

The smile that lit up his
face told her that she had made the right decision and he brought
her hand up to his lips, turning it so that he could lay a kiss on
the inside of her wrist.  The touch of his lips against that
bare patch of skin was so intimate, so shocking to her as a young
woman who had been quite sheltered by her parents even by the
standards of the
ton
 for unwed virgins, that she quite thought her knees
might give way beneath her.  What was this strange power that
Hugh had over her, that he might make her so
discombobulated? 

"Good," he said, and then, before she quite
understood what he was about, he pressed his lips against hers.
 

This was nothing like their kiss
at the church, Irene realized that immediately.  The long hard
line of Hugh's body moved against hers, trapping her between him
and the bed, and she let out an involuntary moan.  He took
advantage of that parting of her sweet lips to thrust his tongue
in, claiming her mouth.  Irene was shocked by the blatant
indecency; her mother hadn’t mentioned such a thing at all.
 Was this the marriage act?  Or part of it?

It couldn't be though... it wasn't
night time and they weren't in the bed... and it was nothing like
the descriptions her mother had given her.  Irene felt
breathless pleasure, a strange sense of rising excitement in her
breast as her heart fluttered and she found her mind melting away
into a sodden heap of sensation.  Little thoughts flitted
through the back of her head, warnings about Hugh's physical effect
on her, alarm at her reaction, and fleeting thoughts about Alex...
all of which seemed very far away in comparison to the reality of
her husband's hard body, his caressing hands, and the taste of him
in her mouth.

Irene's innocently passionate
response to his kiss had Hugh going up in flames, his self-control
rapidly unraveling.  He felt quite certain that she had no
idea she was whimpering in the back of her throat, the sound
completely innocent and yet wildly erotic.  The movement of
her body against his thigh seemed completely reactionary,
instinctive, and not at all aware. With her soft, supple body
trapped between him and the bed, he was able to caress her through
her dress, internally cursing the corset which kept him from
feeling the softness of her breasts.  Instead he placed his
hands against her bottom, cupping a handful of each mound and
pressing the v of her legs more firmly against him.

The gasp against his lips as he touched her so
intimately reminded him that he was dealing with a virgin.
 His pure, untouched wife, and with a groan he pulled his
mouth from hers and let his hands drop back by his sides.
 Irene stared up at him, her red hair in minor disarray, green
eyes wide with shock and so dark that they almost looked like jade
rather than emeralds.  Her usually creamy pale skin was
flushed bright pink, her lips swollen and dark from his kiss.
 Leaning her weight against the bed, she looked ready to
crumble to the floor and it was all he could do not to lift her in
her arms, lay her down on the bed and consummate their nuptials
immediately.

But, by the same token, he didn't want to
frighten his new wife with his appetite for her.  At the
moment she was looking up at him with confusion, lust and wariness.
 He would not have her think him a savage, to take her so
quickly and without proper ceremony.