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Which only made Wesley want to make her talk again.
"What kind of man do you want to marry?"
Silence.
"Cynthia."
She looked at him in a rather significant way and he sighed.
"I asked you to dance both because I didn't want to dance with another one of those useless chits and also because I like dancing with you. You're quite graceful you know."
The brilliant smile he received in return made something inside his chest do a strange flip even as his breeches tightened in front.
"I'd like to marry a man who doesn't bore me."
"Is that hard to find?"
"Yes and no. I've met quite a few men who don't bore me, but none of them seem interested in marriage."
This time Wesley growled in response to her smile. She didn't even seem upset at the fact that she obviously attracted men who wouldn't make her a respectable offer. Just amused and possibly slightly interested. Well she would have to wait to accept carte blanche from any of them until after he found her a husband. Although if he found her one that didn't bore her, then perhaps she wouldn't even be inclined to.
"Aggravating baggage," he said, although his tone wasn't severe at all. Cynthia just smiled brightly at him again, her cheeks flush with happiness.
******
Later that night, in his study, Wesley studied the glass of brandy in his hand rather than sipping from it. He'd poured himself the alcohol, but had yet to drink a single drop, although the current subject of his thoughts certainly merited it.
Marriage.
And it looked that if he was to have any choice in his bride, he must do so before next Season. Who knew what young ladies his mother might consider appropriate for the position of his Countess if tonight was anything to go by. The Miss Whyte's of the world drove him batty, it was part of the reason he'd assiduously avoided the marriage mart at all costs while in London. Even though he was newly an Earl, it seemed the ton had understood that he wouldn't be looking for a bride during his first Season back from India.
Next Season, with his mother in town, it would be completely different. Young ladies would be loath to pass up the opportunity to be a Countess, especially to an Earl who didn't need their dowry as an influx of cash. And his mother's presence, and encouragement, would only exacerbate matters. It wouldn't just be his mother's machinations he would have to be wary of, but all the matrons and young ladies of the ton.
Did his mother really think he'd be happy settling down with one of those bird brained, conniving, marriage hungry misses? He adroitly dismissed the fact that he'd been thinking along those lines originally, because he'd been thinking about that in the far distant future.
But now that he was realizing he might need to move sooner rather than later, he couldn't quite reconcile himself to the idea.
Especially when Cynthia kept popping up into his mind. Cynthia and that slick, musky wetness that her body had produced despite - or perhaps because of? - her spanking. Just thinking about it caused his cock to swell. She didn't want a husband who bored her... well, that was as good a criteria to go on as any. Wesley knew that he wouldn't bore her. And he didn't think that she would bore him.
Hell, just this morning he'd been considering something along those lines, based on nothing more than his attraction to her and the wetness of her quim after being punished. And he'd decided against it, but that was before he'd known his mother's plans.
If he had to choose a bride, and soon, he could do worse than a chit who, at least, entertained him. Made him laugh. And it was damned hard to keep his hands off her anyway.
The notion merited serious contemplation. Wesley swirled the contents of his brandy glass around, watching the amber depths as they sloshed back and forth. Edwin had married for love, Hugh had married for land - although it had obviously turned into something more, so he would marry for..
. what? Lust?
Maybe. Perhaps he could convince his mother to set aside her plans for at least another year, take some time to think.
Although, by that time Cynthia would be married off if his mother had anything to say about it. Wesley brought the snifter up to his mouth and drained it.
Chapter 8
Irene was so glad that the Season was coming to a close. She was looking forward to returning to the countryside with Hugh. The Duchess of Richmond's ball was everything she disliked about London society - it was an absolute crush, too loud, too packed and the odor left a great deal to be desired - but it was one of those events that everyone must attend. Which accounted for the great number of people sipping tepid, watered down lemonade and eating stale pastries as the night wore on.
Even worse were the number of alluring, sophisticated and flirtatious ladies who filled the capital. While her mother had impressed upon Irene that it was commonplace among the ton for a man and wife to have relations with others outside of their marriages, she hadn't realized how much it would directly affect her. At the time she'd thought it was something to be desired, because she thought that she and Alex would finally be able to be together in some manner.
Now that she realized she loved Alex in a completely different manner than she loved her husband, the idea of Hugh enjoying intimacies with a woman outside of their marriage was terrifying and painful. At first she hadn't even realized it might be a possibility, but it seemed there were far too many married ladies who would be happy to pry Hugh away from the side of his delicate wife. Many of them had bought the story of her fainting in the gardens (thankfully not realizing the truth of the matter), and they assumed that Hugh would want to enjoy relations with a woman who was more robust. More sensual.
