she said nothing. Especially since they shared the same bed every night and his passion for her hadn't diminished. The small changes in her body were becoming more and more noticeable, and while they could be hidden by clothes, there was no way to hide them from his hands or his eyes when they were in their marital bed.
"I think Wesley's done something to Cynthia," Edwin murmured into her ear, jerking her out of her thoughts. Eleanor blinked and refocused. She had been invited over for tea with Cynthia and the Countess, and Edwin had insisted on accompanying her. She was rather grateful for his presence, because she was having trouble concentrating and he'd been remarkably adept at dropping hints along the conversation to help her. Still, it had been rather unexpected, and it meant that Wesley had joined them as well.
Looking over at Wesley, she couldn't imagine what Edwin was referring to and she looked up at her husband, raising a questioning eyebrow.
He nodded at Wesley, and then at Cynthia. Wesley was standing next to the mantle, one elbow casually resting on its surface, watching his bride who had been wandering around the room and recently come to a stop beside the window which looked out over the street. The Countess had been in and out of the room as various details for the upcoming wedding required her attention, and was currently speaking with the housekeeper about the menu.
Eleanor realized that the entirety of the noise level in the room was that conversation; neither Wesley nor Cynthia had said a word in ages. Besides which, they’d barely seemed to interact at all. Not at all what she might have expected between an affianced couple, no matter what Cynthia had told her about Wesley’s current hands-off approach.
"He looks far too satisfied, when just yesterday he was rather on edge, and now she looks anxious and she hasn't sat down once since we've been here," Edwin said, sounding rather amused. Eleanor found it more worrying than amusing, although as she looked at Cynthia it didn't seem as though the young woman was afraid of her fiancé.
Just nervous.
Which was odd enough, considering that it was Cynthia and so far Eleanor hadn't seen anything that fazed the young woman. Not even being spanked. So what had Wesley done to her? Or, rather, what had Cynthia done and how had Wesley reacted? Yesterday she hadn’t worried when Cynthia had said she was going to do something to prod Wesley, now she wondered if she should have questioned the other woman more closely.
Eleanor was going to have to get her alone and ask. It would be impossible to do so today, she couldn’t get Cynthia alone without being rude. Perhaps after Irene arrived; then Cynthia would have more than one well-disciplined wife to speak with. And Irene and Hugh seemed to have resolved their differences, going by the letters Eleanor and Edwin had received since arriving in Bath. So perhaps Irene would also have some advice. Although neither she nor Eleanor courted their husbands’ displeasure the way that Cynthia did with Wesley.
She couldn’t imagine Irene deliberately misbehaving. But at least she would be able to add another perspective to the situation.
******
"Irene!"
"I'm coming," she called, hurrying down the hall. Hugh's demanding tones didn't cause quite the same reaction as her mother's always had, but she still couldn't help the little knot of anxiety that coiled in her stomach.
It disappeared the moment she reached the top of the stairs and looked down to see him smiling up at her. No matter his impatience, he didn’t scold or chide her the way her mother would have if she’d been kept waiting. He was fashionably but comfortably dressed for traveling. They were going to be arriving in Bath a few days before the wedding so that they could meet Wesley's fiancé and spend some time with Eleanor and Edwin. Irene was wildly curious about Miss Bryant, as well as eager to see her sister-in-law again.
She was wearing her riding habit, although she wouldn't be able to ride until they were out of London. But Hugh had promised her that once they reached the country he would allow her to ride her horse rather than be stuck in the carriage, even though it was rather out of the bounds of propriety. It was something her parents had never permitted and she was extremely grateful that her husband wasn't so bound up in the rules of Society as they were.
Indeed, marriage to Hugh had turned out to be much more satisfying than she could have ever imagined. A thought which he confirmed when he caught her up in his arms and gave her a very thorough kiss, ignoring the titters of the staff in the hall. When he released her, Irene was bright red but beaming with happiness.
Offering her his arm, he walked her out to the carriage which was waiting for them. Seating herself facing forward, she settled her skirts around her legs, already eager for when she could quit the confines of the carriage. She looked at her husband in surprise when he climbed in after her, seating himself across from her.
"Aren't you going to ride?" she asked, curiously.
Hugh smiled at her, the sunlight trickling in through the window and making his golden hair look even brighter. "Once you can, I will as well. Before that I thought I might keep you company if you have no objection."
“No objection at all,” she replied, smiling brilliantly.
Love surged in her heart for her caring, generous and all-too-wonderful husband. Irene didn't know how she'd gotten so lucky. While Hugh might discipline her when he thought she required it, he was also the most thoughtful, giving man she'd ever met - and that included when compared to Alex. The way that Hugh had forgiven her transgressions, the way he continued to care for her, the happiness that he'd brought to her life on a daily basis, when she'd thought she'd have to hoard and snatch small bits for herself... it was more than she could have ever imagined or asked for.
Thank goodness she hadn't married Alex. While she loved her friend, she also knew that if Alex wanted to ride, he would do so, even if Irene was stuck alone in a carriage. She had never expected to feel sorry for Lady Grace, but right now she did. How awful to be trapped in a marriage with a man one didn't love when she obviously craved that; Irene could no longer imagine it.
And yet Alex was supposedly determined to reconcile. Irene no longer knew what might be best for the estranged couple, but she could only wish that they found even a fraction of the happiness that she had with Hugh.
Epilogue
Peters showed Alex into the drawing room. He looked around, noting the bright colors and feminine touches that his own house lacked. Compared to Grace's rooms, his own residence was downright dismal and had been that way for as long as he could remember.
"May I say that it's good to see you again, my Lord?"
"Thank you, Peters, it's good to see you as well," Alex said. The man hadn't changed much over the years, and he was still one of the most trusted servants the Brooke family had ever had. Peters' father had served Alex's, his grandfather, all the way back at least four generations. He was the only man Alex had trusted to send with Grace when she'd left. "Will her ladyship be down soon, do you think?"
The butler hesitated. "Lord Conyngham has yet to depart the premises this morning, my Lord, but Lady Brooke has summoned her maid and I believe they should be coming down to breakfast shortly."
"Thank you, Peters." Alex ignored the disapproval in the other man's face, knowing that it was for himself and not for his wife or her lover.
After all, Peters knew that it was his fault. It was Peters who had informed him that the rumors surrounding Grace and her 'lovers' were untrue when she'd first left him; she'd been having flirtations but she hadn’t betrayed him. And Alex, proud idiot that he was, had retaliated by initiating his own flirtation. But Grace had had no way of knowing that it was only a flirtation, unlike him who had Peters to inform him of the truth of the matter, that the rumors that he'd acquired a mistress were false. It was only after she thought Alex had taken a mistress that her lovers had become so in truth, and he blamed his own prideful folly for that.