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The composed debutante who was shown into the drawing room didn’t at all resemble the sobbing, red-eyed young lady that Wesley had punished. He couldn’t keep too close an eye on her, however, or Eleanor and Edwin would notice. Or maybe they wouldn’t; the two love birds seemed rather wrapped up in each other, although he had noticed that Eleanor was sitting rather gingerly.
He deduced that Cynthia wasn’t the only young woman to be disciplined in the past twenty-four hours.
The Countess looked up and smiled approvingly at her ward’s appearance. The rose pink damask set off her sensual good looks, bringing a bright pink to her cheeks and lips and setting off the rich brown of her hair and eyes. He wondered if it was anything close to the current color of her bottom, and when she glanced at him with a challengingly mischievous look in her eyes, he wondered if she’d purposefully dressed to remind him of her spanking. The little minx. Although they didn’t know each other very well yet, he wouldn’t put it past her. The part of him that didn’t want to think of her as his responsibility thoroughly approved.
Blast.
But she was his responsibility and he’d resolved to forget the moment of… contemplation that he’d had earlier in the day. He didn’t want to get married yet. Especially not to a brazen, bold little hoyden who would keep him hopping with her antics. And Cynthia needed to be married off quickly – not just for his mother’s sake, but now for her own. Before he ruined her utterly.
Of course, then he’d be honor bound to marry her...
Stop it you bloody fool.
Pasting a smile on his face, he watched as his mother’s escort for the evening, the elderly Viscount Vernier, bowed over Cynthia’s hand, complimenting her on her delightful appearance. Following Vernier, Wesley bowed over his ward’s hand as well, murmuring his own compliments.
He watched as she greeted Edwin and Eleanor, the latter with every evidence of delight. Yes, he’d been right not to inform her that Eleanor had shared some of her confidences; the women were well on their way to a true friendship – and knowing Edwin, he was fairly sure that Eleanor hadn’t meant to betray Cynthia’s confidences. As long as the chit knew not to attempt any of those intimacies until after she was married, he’d stay content. And keep a weather eye out.
“What has she done now?” Edwin asked in a low voice, sidling up to Wesley as Eleanor, the Countess and Cynthia began to chat, while Vernier listened with an indulgent smile on his face. Wesley wondered if the older man was hard of hearing, as a discussion about the shops of Bath could hardly be stimulating to him.
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you want to throttle her.”
“I do not,” Wesley said gruffly, trying to compose his features. It was harder than he’d expected because he was already trying to cover his initial reaction to Cynthia’s presence and his thoughts about what color her bottom might be. He noticed that when she settled on the couch next to the Countess that she did so very, very carefully and she didn’t glance in his direction the entire time. Knowing that her bottom was still aching did nothing for the state of his breeches and he blessed the fact that he’d worn a looser fitting pair than usual.
Still, he didn’t want anyone to know that his ward was getting under his skin. So he forced a smile and turned away from her so that he could stop focusing on all the soft, white skin that was revealed by her low neckline and watching her shift back and forth as if trying to find a comfortable way to sit on a very sore bottom.
“I may need to enlist you and Eleanor to help my mother and I keep an eye on her this evening,” Wesley said in a low voice. He hadn’t told his mother that Cynthia bore stricter watching, mostly because then he would have to explain why. And if Eleanor and Edwin were going to be there, then he could rely on them. Well, on Edwin, certainly. Nell might help out, but she was also just as likely to take Cynthia’s side, as far as she thought Cynthia could be trusted. Wesley had a feeling that Nell’s definition of how far Cynthia could be trusted differed greatly from his own.
Edwin raised one dark eyebrow. “Never thought I’d see the day when you admitted to a woman being too much for you to handle.”
Scowling, Wesley waved his hand, as if to wave Edwin’s words away. They needled, particularly because there was just the smallest grain of truth to them. "I've never met one that was so bent on her own destruction."
Laughing, Edwin clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a nod that was both apologetic and accepting of the request as the ladies looked up at them, obviously distracted from their own conversation. Interestingly, when Cynthia met Wesley's eyes for the first time that evening, she blushed.
Then he saw the way her lips parted before she looked away and he realized she hadn't been blushing. She'd been aroused. Was she thinking about her spanking? As his breeches tightened uncomfortably, Wesley realized he was contemplating his ward in a way that he'd firmly decided not to.
Damnation. He needed to find her a husband and quickly, and he needed to find himself a feminine distraction even more quickly. He would definitely use the Assembly tonight to achieve both goals.
******
If Wesley had thought that the evening was going to be easy, his first glimpse of Cynthia in a ball gown rudely disabused him of the notion. She was temptation incarnate; if they'd been in London men would have been throwing themselves at her feet with the more dangerous rakes and roués circling like the hungry wolves they were. The low dip of her neckline revealed what seemed a scandalous amount of the upper curves of her breasts, all that gleaming white flesh an invitation for lips and trailing fingers. One brunette curl rested on her shoulder, showing off how pale and creamy her skin truly was; the rest was wound about in an elaborate coiffure with a silver ribbon that matched the gauzy netting over a dress of aquamarine.
The entire ensemble made her look both older and more tempting than ever, with those wide, laughing hazel eyes and curved, smiling lips. This was no hoyden, this was a sensual siren, elegantly draped and expertly presented to the entice the male senses. He was so intent on controlling his inevitable reaction to the way the gown clung to her ample curves that he didn't even notice the flash of feminine awareness and satisfaction that went through her eyes. Cynthia was not the usual young miss; she was quite aware of her effect on men and she was finally seeing the same symptoms in the Earl.
It was immensely satisfying.
When he raised her hand to his lips, meeting her eyes, his gaze suddenly shuttered as Wesley realized he'd been thrown enough by her appearance to show his true reaction. He actually had to remind himself that he wasn't going to marry the chit just because he ached to bed her.
The lazy smile that slid across his face was a mask, but it was also a smile that was designed to set women's heart's fluttering. A smile that had actually caused a debutante to swoon earlier in the Season when he'd favored her with it - not that he expected Cynthia to behave in the same manner as that silly chit, but he knew that it should at the least make her uneasy.
"You look... absolutely divine tonight, Miss Bryant. I'm sure even in sleepy Bath the gentlemen will be clamoring for your attention. Just remem
ber not to give any of them too much of it."
Cynthia felt rather breathless. When she'd dressed for this evening she'd wanted to stun the Earl, to show him that she could do the pretty and play the part of a proper lady, just to get a rise out of him. Certainly not because her bottom was still aching and she was worried about being on the receiving end of another spanking - surely the Countess wouldn't allow any disruptions to their planned evening.
The rakish grin on his face had set her heart pounding; it was a smile that many men had given her, but none quite so effectively. Perhaps because this was the first time that the Earl had looked at her like that? Or perhaps because he was the only male to have ever seen her private areas? So far she'd always kept the men who kissed her from taking matters beyond a certain point, and that point was any parts underneath her clothing, but the Earl's spankings didn't afford her any such protection. Which might possibly be why they excited her so.
