Mary
If waiting for her uncle, cousin, and betrothed to hash out the details of their marriage contract was irritating under normal circumstances, under these circumstances, it was downright torturous. Her aunt’s carriage had pulled up right behind Rex’s, meaning Mary had not been able to castigate him properly after he had left her aching and wanting, the taste of him still lingering on her tongue.
The bastard.
As punishments went, it was a good one, though she did not like to admit it. The spanking had been hard enough to keep her bottom tingling, her lower body was still throbbing, and the breast he’d tormented felt swollen and achy. Thomas had looked extremely disapproving when he caught sight of them, Arabella almost gleeful, and Aunt Elizabeth had rushed in to speak with Uncle Henry. The gentlemen had promptly departed to her uncle’s study to make arrangements, which she would not be privy to until they needed her signature.
Now, she was sitting with her aunt and Arabella, discussing wedding plans and doing her best not to squirm from both impatience and physical discomfort. Thankfully, Aunt Elizabeth seemed too distracted to notice Mary’s lack of composure.
“You will certainly need a new dress. It will need to be something grand… but also made quickly.” Aunt Elizabeth paced back and forth in front of the couch, where Arabella and Mary were sitting.
“Not so quickly, at least a month for the banns, and…” Mary started to argue, her voice trailing off when Aunt Elizabeth’s dark eyes pinned her in place. Her aunt raised her eyebrows.
“Yes, quickly. Despite Hartford’s quick action, the gossip is going to be fierce until you two are wed. Besides, with a rake, it is always better to have the wedding as soon as possible before, ah, complications arise.” The delicate phrasing made Mary blush when she realized what her aunt was insinuating.
“He did not… we have not…” The hot blush rising in her cheeks gave her away. While she was still not entirely compromised, her package was significantly more rumpled than it had been before the carriage ride here. Besides, she knew in the eyes of the ton, being found kissing Hartford in the conservatory during a ball was enough to thoroughly ruin her. With his pursuit of her already acknowledged, the salacious tidbit would have every gossipmonger sure Hartford had made his claim.
To be truthful, hadn’t he?
“What actually occurred is not as important as what is perceived to have occurred,” Aunt Elizabeth said, confirming Mary’s thoughts. She eyed Mary, pausing in her repeated journey across the carpet. “If you truly do not want to marry him, this is the time to say so. It will be difficult, but the family will stand by you.”
“Of course, we will,” Arabella said firmly before her voice dropped to a mutter. “Although I think plenty has probably occurred already.”
That point was impossible to argue. Mary had put herself in this position. She had gone to his house for the masquerade, had thrown herself at him in the conservatory, and while she had done both things in service to her country, she had no excuse for her behavior at the end of the masquerade or during the carriage ride home from the ball. No justification… other than her own desires.
She did desire him. Even now, she ached for him. But could—would—desire lead to love? The answer to that question was very much undetermined.
Besides, she could not possibly expose her family to such scandal. Mary loved her aunt, uncle, and cousins far too much to force them to weather an unnecessary storm. Society would not be kind, and they would be tainted by association, even more so if they championed rather than repudiated her. To return the love and care they had heaped on her the past two years with such a burden would be unconscionable, even if she loathed Rex.
“No.” She shook her head, lifting her chin stubbornly. “This may not have been the schedule I would have chosen for our courtship, but I have no major objections to the outcome.”
“Good, good.” Aunt Elizabeth did her best to hide her relief. Mary silently vowed not to cause any more trouble for her poor aunt. “I will go get the fashion plates.” Giving Mary a bright smile, Aunt Elizabeth swanned out of the room.
Arabella scooted closer on the couch, and when Mary met her eyes, she was startled to see an almost avaricious expression on Arabella’s face. It was not malicious, but her cousin’s wife loved secrets and scandal.
“What happened in the carriage?” Arabella’s question was more of a demand, and Mary hesitated. There was no reason to think Arabella would share her secrets out of turn, but she did not know how much she wanted to confide in the other woman. Her jaw dropped open at Arabella’s next question, though. “Did he spank you?”
“How—” She cut herself off, but it was already too late. Arabella sat back, nodding decisively.
“I thought I recognized the look.” She smirked at Mary. “Thomas spanks me, too, you know, and Felix spanks Gabrielle.” Pausing, she tilted her head to the side, her gaze unfocused as a thought occurred to her. “I wonder if there is something about the family that attracts it…”
Mary didn’t answer because she was too busy assimilating this new information. Her cousins spanked their wives? How on earth had she missed such startling knowledge? Although… now fully informed, memories of past looks, sighs, and blushes were cast in a new light.
“No, it cannot just be the family because Wesley spanks Cynthia, too,” Arabella continued musing. “She enjoys it, though.”
“She does?” Mary asked, much struck. It had not occurred to her that Arabella and her friends might actually have some experience with such depravities. Indeed, she could hardly imagine stuffy Thomas… well, but then he had married a hoyden, had he not? Clearly, there was some part of him that appreciated a bit of wildness in his life. She could imagine him playing the part of stern disciplinarian, although her mind shied away from what might come after.
“Oh, yes, far more so than Gabrielle or I do, although…” Arabella’s appraised Mary with another glance before shrugging. “I do not mind earning the occasional spanking, but Cynthia deliberately provokes her husband for the sake of earning a punishment.”
Oddly, Mary understood that completely. She had never expected to have something so unconventional in common with Arabella, much less with the wild Countess of Spencer. Shifting closer to Arabella, she kept her voice low.
“Is… is there a way to make the ache between my legs stop?”
Arabella’s eyes lit up.
Rex
Negotiations completed, Rex felt an extra spring in his step as he followed Viscount Hood into the drawing-room where Mary was waiting for him. Upon entering, he could see her and Arabella seated together on the couch, both of them sitting bolt upright when the door opened, rousing his suspicions. Still, considering some of the advice young ladies of the ton received before their wedding nights, he supposed Mary could have a worse confidant.
Following Rex, Thomas Hood went straight to his wife, standing behind where she was seated on the couch. His stiff-necked posturing amused Rex to no end—Thomas was eminently displeased they would soon be related and was unable to hide his emotions. Thankfully, the Viscount was far more welcoming—on the condition Rex keep Mary happy.
“Oh, good, you are done.” The Viscountess came bustling back into the room, her arms full of magazines. “Everything is arranged?”
“Yes, as long as Mary is amenable.” The Viscount glanced down at Mary, who was glancing over the marriage contract they had just hashed out. Her dowry was not insignificant, the Viscount admitting he had added his own contribution, and they had agreed Mary would receive control over her funds. Rex enjoyed her expression when she reached that part on the second page, her eyes widening in surprise, head jerking up to meet his gaze. Nodding in confirmation, he let a small smile curve his lips.
Ducking her head back down, Mary nodded.
“I am.” She smiled up at her uncle, far more serenely than Rex would have expected. He narrowed his eyes, studying her. Had the time apart to compose herself granted her such poise or… His suspicious scrutiny turned to Arabella. The little imp smiled smugly at him.
“Then, a toast!” The Viscount rang for champagne before the discussion turned to how long they would need before the event.
Disinclined to wait longer than he had to—he was sure gossip was already flowing, thanks to Lady Jersey and likely the Duchess of Richmond as well—Rex insisted on the ceremony being as soon as possible. He was sure he could obtain a special license, eliminating a need for the banns to be read. Mary put up a token protest, but no more than that before her aunt gave her a firm look, and she subsided.
“I need more than a week,” the Viscountess said firmly.
“Ten days?” Rex asked, glancing around. “The Saturday after next.”
Tilting her head for a moment in thought, the Viscountess finally nodded. Mary sighed.
“That will be enough time. Barely. But enough.” Viscountess Hood glanced down at the magazines she had fetched, the dresses on the cover indicating where her thoughts lay.
“I want to stay in London, though,” Mary said, looking up at him, a plea in her eyes. “Even if we are to rush the ceremony, I do not want to miss out on the rest of the Season.”
Rex only hesitated a moment before nodding. That was fair enough, and he did not mind staying in town. He wanted to keep an eye on Lucas, and Captain Jones still needed to be introduced to the Society... and it would give him time to plan a proper honeymoon for her.
“Very well, then that’s settled. I must take my leave,” Rex said, getting to his feet and giving the Viscountess a small bow. “I will have my list to you tomorrow. Perhaps Mary could see me to the door?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” The Viscountess waved her hand. Thomas stirred, but she pinned him with a look, and Arabella turned to say something to him, quietly, so he had to lean down to hear her. The Viscount smiled genially, though his eyes were sharp as he watched them go.
Getting to her feet, Mary willingly took his arm. Her very docility was suspect. After their carriage ride, she had resembled a pot about to boil over, but now an air of patient anticipation hung about her. Rex was not sure what Arabella had told her to cause such a change in temperament, but he could hazard a guess.
The discussion of their wedding continued behind them as they left the room—with no matriarch of his family left, Rex was perfectly happy to leave the planning to the Viscountess and Mary—the voices slowly fading with distance. By the time they reached the front door, Rex could not hear them at all, giving him and Mary the most privacy they were likely to have for the rest of the evening.
For discretion’s sake, Rex still bent down to put his mouth near her ear, his voice a silky whisper.
“If you pleasure yourself before our wedding day, I will spank the dickens out of you before our wedding night.” Stiffening in his arms, Mary’s reaction confirmed his guess. “And, petal, I will know.”
Enjoying the shock and sudden worry in her eyes, he could almost feel the buzzing need return to her body. She was no longer so sanguine or self-assured.
Pressing his lips to hers, he ravished her mouth, kissing her deeply and thoroughly until she was clinging to him, and he knew her senses were suitably stirred again. Suitable for his intentions, that was. Grinning, he pulled away, leaving her standing shocked and aroused.
Bounding down the front steps of the house, movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there. Nothing he could see at any rate. Frowning, he studied the shadows for a long moment before shaking his head and allowing his grin to spread again. Likely, it had been an animal or even a trick of his imagination.
Mary
The next ten days were a whirlwind of plans, appointments, and dress fittings. Not only did the wedding need to be put together in a hurry, as Rex had procured a special license with startling ease, but the ton demanded their presence as much as possible. Their engagement ball was held four nights after their illicit kiss in the conservatory and was a mad crush as society jockeyed for the best view of the scandalous couple. There were so many guests, the only semi-private moment she had with him was their engagement waltz. After that, they were barely able to exchange two words to each other.
From Arabella, Josie, and Lily, Mary quickly learned Society had two views of the sudden engagement—they thought Mary had trapped Hartford, or they assumed he had seduced her into hurrying things along. With his interest in her firmly established before the interlude, speculation as to why he might have wanted to hurry her along had risen to a fever pitch. There were even rumors of a wager in White’s infamous betting book of exactly how compromised she was. Contrary to Aunt Elizabeth’s assertion that perception was all that mattered, apparently, some members of the ton wanted to know the minute details.
It was enough to drive even the most levelheaded person batty.
Aunt Elizabeth had been correct that they needed to be wed as quickly as possible, if only for Mary’s sanity. She could not imagine four weeks of this intense interest focused on her nor the intrusive comments and questions levied her way. Even her usual meeting with Evie in Hyde Park had to be abandoned. The moment she had set foot along the paths on Sunday, she had drawn the attention of the Misses Sawyer. The sisters had crowded around her, followed by several young lords, and the crowd kept growing.
Eventually, Josie had come to rescue her, but she could not break Mary free entirely. As long as she was in the park, she was going to be of interest to those also in attendance. Meeting with Evie was impossible. Everyone would wonder who Evie was, despite her dowdy attire, and Mary certainly could not introduce her to anyone.
At least she was able to walk along with Josie, their heads bent together in whispered conversation. They did not make eye contact with anyone, keeping their gazes averted, so no one could claim insult if they were ignored.
“It is going to be impossible for me to move about quietly until after the wedding,” Mary complained.
“Once you are wed, interest should die down quickly,” Josie reassured her, patting Mary’s hand. “Some new bit of gossip will come along, and everyone will forget about you again. I mean… oh, bother.”
Mary had to giggle. Hearing Josie’s usual well-meaning comments coming out all wrong was so familiar, it was almost comforting. One thing that remained the same in a world that felt as though it had shifted beneath her feet.
“I know what you meant.” She sighed. “I never realized how exhausting it is to be constantly the center of attention. How do you do it?”
Shrugging, Josie smiled wryly.
“I never minded it. Not like you.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps I was always hoping one person, in particular, would pay attention. I never cared much who else did.”
Poor Josie. No matter how she glittered, no matter how many gentlemen she drew to her like moths to a flame, the one gentleman she had her eye on continued to elude her. If Joseph Stuart was here right now, Mary would give him a good kick in the shin.
“He is a twit,” Mary said stoutly. Josie laughed.
“He is, but I wanted him, anyway. Want him… I think.” She shook her head, blonde curls bouncing. “I do not know anymore, but let us not speak of him. There are more important things afoot. Have you been able to learn anything more about your future husband’s sinful society?” She asked the question salaciously, but Mary could see the concern on her face. Not concern whether or not Mary had been able to gather the information but concern Mary would be hurt by Rex’s involvement.
“Not yet. He is remarkably adept at punting aside any questions I ask.” She scowled. “We are not often allowed a moment alone to speak. Thomas is acting like a dog in the manger over this engagement.”
“Too late for that now.” Josie rolled her eyes, snorting indelicately. “The fox has already raided the henhouse.”
“He has not,” Mary denied hotly, then blushed. “Not all of it.”
“But you did let him in the door.” Josie was wicked, and they both ended up giggling, Mary’s laughter becoming a touch hysterical.
She wished there were time and opportunity for Rex to fully raid the henhouse. After his whispered rejoinder the night of their engagement, she had not dared to touch herself in the manner Arabella had described. Thankfully, the needy ache in her body had subsided by the next morning, although he did not have to do much more than touch her to rouse it again.
If they could sneak off during a ball or a rout, she would attempt it, but there had been no opportunity. It felt as if half the ton was watching them to see if they did just that. Even if they had not been, Thomas was certainly watching closely, practically growling whenever he felt Rex toed the line. Amused, Rex always pulled back with a smirk.
In a few days, he would no longer have to pull back. He reminded her of a big, lazy lion, watching and waiting for the right moment to pounce… a moment he knew was coming and saw no point in trying to hasten its arrival.
“Evie is sure the Earl of Devon is in trouble,” Josie murmured, her voice so low, it was barely audible to Mary.
Pressing her lips together, Mary felt her heart turn over in her chest.
“Rex has not seen him in days.” Rex wanted the earl to stand up with him at their wedding, but this morning he had reported in that the Earl of Carlisle would be standing up with him instead. With Thomas standing so closely, listening to every word they exchanged, she had not been able to do more than ask if Devon was well. Rex’s lips had thinned with unhappiness, rousing her ire at his absent friend. “They had a falling out recently, but Rex still wanted Devon to stand with him on Saturday.”
“That is not good.” Josie sighed. “I will tell Evie. Perhaps she can run him to ground.” She looked at Mary apologetically.
“Perhaps.” Mary did not know whether or not to hope the earl would make an appearance before the weekend. He was Rex’s closest friend, but if he turned out to be a traitor or in some way connected to the assassination plot, the ton would not be kind to him nor any of his close associates. In many ways, his absence at the wedding would help keep all of them safer, at least when it came to Society.
“Has Evie told you where she is staying?”
“In the Dalton household as a maid.” Laughter colored Josie’s voice. “Elijah would have kittens if he knew.”
The Dalton household… oh, dear. That was the man Walter had been consorting with… Anxiety seized her, then relaxed. Even if Evie had seen something, she would never hurt someone Mary loved—unless it were absolutely necessary. Mary did not, for one moment, believe Walter could be connected to treason.
“She said there is nothing suspicious going on there,” Josie continued, relieving Mary greatly. “She plans to be fired this week and move on.”
“Well, if she comes to apply at Hartford House, tell her she shall need a reference,” Mary joked, putting her nose in the air. Both of them laughed, but there was a hollowness to it.
The Season was nearly halfway through, yet Mary felt as if they had made no headway on their mission. She had found a husband, though, so she supposed that counted as a partial success. If only she knew whether or not that success would end happily for her.