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“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 thetonreceived 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, Iwillknow.”

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