Seated between the Countess and her own parents in the front pew, she glared at her husband throughout the entire ceremony. He was splendid looking, so tall and dark, and with a rakish smirk decorating his lips. She could hear the sighs of the women behind her as they admired the looks of the men who were standing up for Wesley. If only those women knew that one of the men was the very devil incarnate.
After taking her home last night, Edwin had punished her with pleasure. More specifically, withheld pleasure. He'd kissed and caressed and stroked her until she was wild with need, and then he'd pumped his seed all over her breasts and belly, without allowing her to climax. Holding her tightly in his arms, he'd kept her from touching herself and relieving the ache that had taken hold.
The worst part was, she could tell that he wasn't even truly upset with her. In fact, he'd seemed rather proud that she hadn't gone wandering off with Cynthia and Grace. Defying him had been fun, but the punishment she'd received had not been the one she'd expected.
Of course she'd known she wouldn't get away with withholding information from him, but she'd thought that she'd at least receive ecstasy at the end of it, as she so often did. Although, even if she'd known what his devious mind would come up with, she still wouldn't have told him where Grace and Cynthia had gone. Part of her was relieved that Irene had caved, so that she hadn't had to. Knowing that Grace and Cynthia hadn't been up to anything harmful had given her the chance to pit her will against Edwin's again.
She would hate for him to think that she was becoming too meek. It wasn't in her nature, so any time she could find some small way to test his will (and his patience), she happily took it up. Last night had proven to be such a moment. Eleanor had exulted in her rebellion, in proving to herself and him that being in love, being disciplined by her husband, hadn't changed who she was at her core.
But then the bastard had gone and turned it all around on her.
Even now, glaring at him, she couldn't help but want him. The entire ceremony she could barely concentrate on the words, or on the way Cynthia kept shifting uncomfortably, or Grace as she peeked at Alex from across the dais. Eleanor was too busy thinking about all the naughty, decadent, perverse things she wanted to do with her husband.
A spanking would have been better than this.
Actually, if she was being honest, she'd been looking forward to a bit of discipline. It wasn't until she hadn't gotten it that she realized how much her body craved her husband's firm hand and the hot sting of a spanking. There was truly something wrong with her.
******
Cynthia might have imagined it, but she would swear that Wesley’s eyes gleamed even brighter as she promised to love, honor and obey him. Vowing to obey him felt right, even as she knew that she would break the vow many times throughout their life. She wanted to obey, she really did, but it was just so very difficult. But she would obey as best she could, and she’d probably do better at it when she had a sore bottom than when she didn’t. Still, she did love him. She had no idea what “honoring” him meant, but she’d just vowed to do that too.
The fierce way he spoke his own vows made her heart dance inside of her chest. He was looking at her with a possessiveness that she’d seen Edwin looking at Eleanor with, and Hugh looking at Irene, and even Alex looking at Grace. It was a heady experience, being at the center of all that attention – not just the congregation’s, but his as well.
Putting the ring on Cynthia’s finger was the highlight of the ceremony for Wesley. Finally, finally, she was marked as his. The gleaming gold band wasn’t a shield against other men, he knew that, but it still made him feel incredibly, smugly triumphant to see it on her hand. A physical indication that she was his and no one else’s, for the rest of their life.
If another man even thought of touching her, Wesley now had all the reason he needed to blow the bugger’s head off.
******
"I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
The pastor was grinning as he said the words, but his expression quickly turned to shock as Wesley behaved in his usual irreverent manner. Edwin, Hugh and Alex all chortled with amusement as Wesley reached out and grabbed his bride by her hips, drawing her into him and bending her back for a completely improper and passionate kiss. Even more improperly, Cynthia flung her arms around his neck and was obviously kissing him back with enthusiasm. The sounds behind Eleanor, from the ton at large, ranged from gasps of shock or disapproval to cheers from a few of the men - quickly quieted as they were whacked with fans from the ladies seated nearest them.
Eleanor covered her mouth, pretending to cough to cover her own laughter. Beside her, the Countess shook her head, but Eleanor could see the sparkle in her eyes and the amused twitch of her lips as she watched her son finish the kiss and bring Cynthia upright again.
The shameless little hussy was pink-cheeked with excitement, not with embarrassment, as Wesley wrapped her hand around his arm and they began to walk back down the aisle. Eleanor couldn't help but grin at her. She was going to set the ton on its ears and Eleanor was looking forward to it. Already Cynthia had created a bit of a scandal by having Grace as one of her bridesmaids. If only Eleanor's morning nausea was less severe, she would have been standing up there as well.
As the wedding party followed the bride and groom down the aisle, the entire audience was treated to watching Lord Brooke extending his arm in an exaggerated offer to his wife. But that wasn't the biggest surprise - the whole room seemed to take an indrawn breath when she actually accepted it! Rumors had been going around since their arrival together in Bath, especially after the dance the other night, but this seemed even more indicative of their general state of affairs.
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Eleanor rolled her eyes. Such small scenes would be dissected to tiny bits by the gossips, and then it was likely their entire demeanor towards Grace would change. Everyone would assume that the couple was reconciling to create an heir, and now that Grace was doing her duty, the scandal would die down again as long as she didn't take another lover until after said heir was produced. She saw more than one woman looking at the couple with blatant consternation on their faces.
Probably the ones that had hoped Lord Brooke would divorce his wife and remarry. Or women who had hoped to become his lover. Many of them were the same women who flirted with Edwin, only to be brutally rebuffed. It took considerable effort for Eleanor not to smirk at any of them as she passed, arm in arm with the Countess.
******
The receiving line at the wedding brunch was boring Cynthia to tears, right up until she saw two of her favorite people in the world. She fairly launched herself at them, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes.
"Matthew! Vincent! What are you doing here?!"
Behind her, Wesley had to still his sudden and violent desire to punch his own brothers in the face. Fortunately for both of them, they responded to his new bride's enthusiastic greeting with laughter and brotherly hugs, giving no indication that they regarded Cynthia as anything other than a little sister. Which made Wesley wonder about the state of their eyesight. Matthew might be a bit young to appreciate Cynthia's charms, which were evident even in the innocent and modest white dress she was wearing, but Vincent was old enough to know what a treasure she was.
Vincent laughed and kissed her forehead. "My gawd, Cyn, I almost didn't recognize you... you look like a real lady now." A statement which she immediately contradicted by sticking her tongue out at him, which made him laugh again. He had the same hazel eyes and brown hair as all the Spencer men, but his hair was fashionably styled as was his clothing. Matthew, of course, was wearing his uniform, and was eyeing some of the other young ladies who were fluttering and fanning themselves over the dashing young officer. "What happened to all the mud?"
To Wesley's surprise, Cynthia blushed, but then turned up her nose at him in an admirable imitation of the Countess. "A gentleman doesn't remind a lady of her past indiscretions."
"Too right, my dear," the Countess - now the Dowager-Countess since Cynthia had just become the Countess - said, coming up behind Cynthia and giving her sons a pleased smiled. "I'm so glad you two made it in time, although you should have come and sat with me."