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A muscle in Hugh’s jaw clenched tight, as did his knuckles around his own snifter. He took a long draw on the cigar in his other hand, allowing his lungs to fill up with the fragrant smoke before blowing it back out again. The action calmed him. Somewhat.
“Of course,” Hugh said, forcing a smile to his face. Somehow he felt incredibly reluctant to share the recent trials of his marriage with his friends, although they were both studying him intently, having gotten the wind that something was up. Wesley consistently slept with other men’s wives and Edwin would never have to worry about Eleanor betraying him with someone else. How could they possibly understand?
Although explaining his concerns to his friends was the least of his worries; the largest looming in his mind was wondering exactly where his wife was and what she was doing. And, possibly, who she was doing it with.
******
The ostrich feathers looked ludicrous. They sprouted from the garish blue turban like weeds in the middle of a flower garden. But Irene knew that was not what her mother wanted to hear, so she mouthed the appropriate compliments on what the Baroness claimed was the “latest fashion.” After taking her leave from Eleanor, Irene had found herself reluctant to go home and face her husband immediately, feeling a bit guilty about her agreement to go to Bath with Eleanor without even consulting him.
She was torn between the conviction that she should be angry with him, that he was a monster who beat her and the strange awareness that there was something wrong with that conclusion. Not just because Alex had not supported her, although that was part of it. While she no longer thought of him as a knight in shining armor, she was having trouble with the idea that he didn't care about her or that he wouldn't protect her if he thought she needed protection.
Which led to the obvious conclusion that he didn't think she needed protection from Hugh. In fact he seemed to want to be more like Hugh; he hadn't just been there to watch over the spanking and ensure that she was unharmed, he'd asked questions and listened attentively to the answers. Alex wanted to emulate Hugh.
And what of her feelings for Alex? Somehow they seemed to have changed... or maybe just her perception of them had. Alex was as handsome as ever, as charming, warm with her where he hadn't been with other ladies, and yet kissing him had felt wrong. Compared to what she thought would happen. She'd thought that kissing him would be even better than kissing Hugh, that it would be more exciting, the culmination of all the fantasies she'd had since she was a young girl. Instead he'd just still been Alex. Warm, safe, and without any of the sparks or arousal that accompanied her kisses with Hugh.
That might have been because he'd been trying to push her away, but there had been a moment when her lips had first touched his that he'd been frozen in place. The lack of fireworks had been both surprising and disappointing.
Yet, even after spanking her, she responded to Hugh.
Although she'd wanted to ask Eleanor some questions about love and marital relations, she just didn't feel comfortable discussing such things with her when the marriage in question was her brother's. There were no other ladies in London that she was particularly close with and only one who knew anything about her feelings for Alex. Which was how she'd ended up finding her way to her parents' house in town.
They were still renting, but they'd moved to a much more fashionable part of town following Irene's marriage. The house was lovely, although privately Irene thought it was far larger than her parents needed considering that they were the only ones occupying it. Still, her mother was obviously very happy with the move, as well as the new wardrobe and fripperies that she was currently showcasing to her daughter.
It was the first time in years that Irene could actually remember her mother looking at her with anything like approval.
"I wore this one last week," the Baroness said, showing Irene a gown of deep green cambric, edged with gold lace. It would have been quite beautiful if it hadn't been so ostentatiously ruffled and trimmed. "Even Lady Jersey stopped to remark upon it."
"It's beautiful Mother," Irene said quietly.
"Yes well," her mother said, sitting down on her bed with the air of one who was completely exhausted. Not surprising since she'd spent the past several hours showing Irene one new item after another. Irene wasn't tired at all, not physically at least, although her head felt rather bruised. While she hadn't had the opportunity to bring up her marriage or her questions yet, the thoughts spinning round and round her head had never stopped. "Your marriage did turn out to do us quite a bit of good, didn't it?" For a moment her mother stopped and really looked at Irene, a little frown wrinkling the center of her brow. "You aren't here to stay for any length of time are you? It really wouldn't do to be seen having some kind of difficulties with your husband so soon after your return to the city."
Looking at her mother, Irene wondered why she'd come to her parents’ house in the first place. It seemed as if she were constantly making the wrong decisions lately. Had she really thought to find any comfort or helpful words of wisdom from her mother? And yet... where else would she have been able to go?
If nothing else, at least she'd gained a few hours of space from her husband and her new home to just sit and think. But there was nothing for her here.
"No mother," she said quietly, her hands neatly folded in her lap like the demure young miss her mother had taught her to be. "Hugh and I are quite well."
"Good," her mother said stoutly, casting a covetous gaze over the pile of fabric that had been heaped onto the bed. "Just keep him happy, Irene. Your father and I will be most displeased if you do not."
The calm resignation that settled over her stomach made her feel rather detached; numbed in a way that her chilly demeanor had never quite been able to achieve. There was no shelter or succor for her here, that much had been made obvious to her.
"Come now, let's go have some tea," her mother said, standing and brushing her skirts off. "There will be several ladies coming by to visit. I didn't know that you would be here but since you are you might as well be of some use to me."
By which Irene knew her mother meant Irene's new social status, not Irene herself. "Yes mother."
She suddenly wondered if her mother had really ever intended that Irene be able to find happiness as Alex's mistress or if she just had said whatever she'd needed to in order to induce Irene to marry Hugh. Strangely the thought didn't hurt her at all, it just circled around her head with all of the others.
******
It was late afternoon when Irene returned home. To her surprise, Harrington House felt even more like home than it had when she'd left that morning. Perhaps it was due to the fact that her parents were no longer in the house they'd been in every other time she'd come to town with them. While she still felt as though their small estate out in the country was her true home, here in London Harrington House was the closest thing she had to a real home. Even if she hadn't been here for very long.
That feeling of settled comfort was only amplified by the smiling greeting from the butler, who opened the door as she approached.
Irene smiled back at him, feeling a kind of weary relief. While she might be unsure of her feelings towards her husband and while she might be nursing both her pride and the kind of heartache that came from broken dreams, at least here she didn't have to deal with her mother.
Stripping off her gloves, Irene moved down the hallway, heading to the morning room which overlooked the small garden in back. It was her favorite room in the house and had been from the moment she’d first been given the tour.
Unfortunately she only made it halfway down the hall before the door to her husband’s study, which had been open a mere inch, suddenly pulled open all the way and she found herself facing a rather irate looking Hugh. He’d left the door open apurpose so that he could hear when his wayward wife returned home. The suddenness of his appearance made her jump backwards a pace, her face flying up to look at his and his expression made her want to stumble back a little farther.
