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Especially when he was faced with three other happy couples, all of whom were able to make love to their wives whenever they wanted.
Over by the dogs, Hugh suddenly straightened from where he'd been leaning over, cocking his head to the side as if listening for something. Chuckling under his breath, Wesley elbowed Edwin and nodded at their friend's stance. He looked remarkably like a hunting dog, scenting the air, a comparison that made Edwin chuckle as well.
"Do you hear that?" Hugh asked, his brow wrinkling. "Who's going out riding?"
The sound of horses trotting out of the stables was nothing new, but as Hugh asked the question, Edwin realized how out of place it was at this time. All four of them and his father were in the kennel. His mother was out visiting friends. And their four wives were supposed to be safely tucked away inside the house, having tea.
Supposed to be.
All four men scrambled to the entrance of the kennels, just as feminine whoops of laughter rang out, leaving the Earl of Clarendon staring at their backs with bemusement.
******
Glancing over her shoulder, Irene could see the four husbands gathered at the kennel door, staring after the women with fierce purpose in their eyes. She turned her head back, trying to suppress the small shiver that went down her spine, and concentrated on controlling her horse. Well, they'd certainly gotten the men's attention with the horse race that Cynthia had suggested.
Apparently it wasn't enough to get Eleanor up on a horse, no, they all needed to be involved and the best way to do that was a race. Innocent enough... except that Eleanor knew Edwin would be upset, Grace was pregnant, and Cynthia was purposefully trying to create trouble. Irene still wasn't sure how she'd ended up being talked into it, except that she hadn't wanted to be left out.
Going by the expression on the men's faces, none of them were going to believe any protestations of innocence. Didn't mean Irene couldn’t try though.
In the meantime, it felt wonderful to be on horseback. She loved Eleanor, but being cooped up in the Manse ever since the baby had been born had been hard on both of them. By default, she'd become Eleanor's main companion during the day, and that meant she'd been restricted to the same activities as Eleanor. Certainly she hadn't been on any wild rides...
Now it felt like she was flying, easily leading the pack of women towards the far end of the field, although Eleanor wasn't too far behind her. When she reached the line of trees, she expertly turned the horse about, ready to race back and win... but the men hadn't been content to wait by the stables for their ladies to return. Hugh and Edwin were in the lead, both riding bareback and already halfway across the field, with Wesley and Alex just leaving the stables.
She couldn't say why she did it, it just seemed instinctual, seeing the men advancing upon them like a hunting party.
"RUN!" She screamed at the other women. Eleanor twisted around and, grinning, took off like a shot across the field, veering away from the men. It only took a moment for Cynthia to follow her example, although she headed into the forest, and Grace did her best although she wasn't nearly the horsewoman that the others were. Irene could see the men cursing as they scattered, following their women.
She started to run as well, her heart pounding. Hearing Hugh calling her name brought her back to her senses. Just a bit. Reining in her horse, she turned again, watching him advance. The others were all out of sight, except for Grace, who had been easily apprehended by her husband and was already being led back to the Manse.
Hell and damnation. She shouldn't have bolted. But they'd just looked so intimidating as a group! Like the four horsemen of the bible, bearing down on them with a vengeance. By himself, even scowling, Hugh wasn't quite as terrifying - even though she knew her bottom was likely about to get a serious workout that had nothing to do with riding a horse.
Reaching her, still scowling, he jerked his head at the stables and started to ride back. Nodding meekly, Irene followed behind him, wishing that she hadn't run in the first place.
Hugh didn't speak a word to his wife until they got up into their bedchambers. He was more than just a little annoyed with her. Not for getting on a horse, of course she could do that, but because they still apparently had a problem with her loyalties.
Sitting down on the edge of their bed, he silently gazed at her, knowing that it was unnerving to her. She squirmed under his steady gaze, twisting her hands in front of her, looking utterly adorable in her guilt. Red tendrils of hair wafted around her face, having come loose during her wild ride. Seeing her ride like that always aroused him, but they had something else to tend to first.
"Get your hairbrush."
Irene paled, biting her lower lip, and his cock twitched at the pleading look she gave him before obeying. She hated being spanked with her own hairbrush, finding something humiliating in being disciplined with an implement she owned. One that she had never considered as a spanking tool. It was a nice, sturdy brush, flat backed and wide, and Hugh sometimes thought it must have been made with the intention that it be dual purpose.
She handed the hairbrush to him, doing her best not to look at it. Sometimes she even blushed when she used it on her hair, if she saw him watching her brush it, and he knew that she was thinking about its other use. Honestly, that was part of the appeal to him. He liked that every time she brushed her hair, she thought about why she needed to be good. He barely had to spank Irene more than once a month, and that was just how he liked it.
"Strip."
This she was able to do on her own, fortunately. He was able to sit and enjoy watching her peel off her clothes, seeing the pink in her cheeks intensify and travel down her neck. The shade matched her pert, pink nipples, which were already standing at attention. Once she was fully naked, Hugh patted his lap and Irene willingly put herself over it, which made his cock throb even harder.
"Do you know why you're being punished, Irene?" he asked, one hand resting on her back, the other rubbing the hairbrush over her bottom. He could feel the shiver that went down her spine as he made a circular, massaging motion with the hard wood.
"Because of the horse race," she said, sighing in resignation.
"No."
SMACK! Irene jumped and yelped.
"I don't care if you want to race your horse, you're an excellent rider."
SMACK! She shrieked again, unable to ask the question 'why?' as the hairbrush smacked into the other side of her bottom.
