She’d asked him once what he’d enjoyed about it and he’d told her the sensations were most pleasant. But he hadn’t offered to spank her, so Belinda didn’t know. She worried the tip of her thumb with her teeth and wondered how she could best get herself out of her present situation.
Maybe if she just talked with Lord Barton he would understand that she’d meant Clarissa no harm, that her words had only been jealously rearing its ugly head and it wouldn’t happen again.
Why, why, why had she said those things? She’d known better. Clarissa had been nothing but nice to her for the past month. Seeing her, though, had reminded Belinda that she’d chosen a bad path. Once a woman acted as a man’s mistress, she couldn’t attract the attentions of a proper man. She was doomed to be a kept woman for the rest of her life. Still, she hadn’t had a choice when she started.
But Belinda didn’t want to be a mistress anymore. She wanted to find a husband, someone who would care for her and love her. Someone who would be there when she went to bed at night and when she woke up in the morning.
Instead, she now had Lord Barton to deal with. Everyone was under the impression that she was his mistress. Just another lover for Belinda. She straightened her shoulders. She wouldn’t let him get away with this.
If he thought that her actions were bad before, she’d show him bad, now. She’d act the part of a spoiled mistress until he was tired of her. Then, he’d throw her over and she’d pack up her things and move. Maybe to Bath, but she immediately shook her head. Clarissa had lived in Bath, and she still had a house there. It wouldn’t be the place where Belinda could go. She might relocate to Scotland. It was beautiful country, and Scottish men were gorgeous, so there was every possibility she could find someone there to marry, someone who did not know her reputation. She could be a proper wife, maybe even have children. Of course she was a little too old for children. But she could be a good stepmother if someone’s wife had passed away and left him with children.
She would learn to be a proper person. She would learn not to let her anger get the best of her.
But first, Belinda had to get rid of Lord Barton. She had no doubt that he would show up on her doorstep tonight around eight as he said. She’d be ready. And she’d be acting the part of the brat that he thought her to be.
“She’s a comely woman, truthfully.” Dalton, Lord Essex, ran his hand down his wife’s thigh suggestively. Charlotte batted it away with a grin.
“Are you trying to play with me, while you just said another woman is comely? You realize that hurts my feelings? Now, behave yourself. Tell me, Jonathan, are you going to make her a member of the Club?”
Jonathan shook his head. “No. I don’t trust her with our secrets. She’d tell everyone in London. I think Lady Strauss and I will have a brief affair, where I will teach her some manners, and then move on.”
“How are you going to do that?” Charlotte asked with a laugh.
“I have no written plan,” Jonathan said. “I’m sure at some point I will come up with things that will be perfect, a few spankings, some corner standing, and a few things where she will be forced to go out in public and something will happen. I’m not sure what yet. But she cannot be allowed to do the things she did to Clarissa at the garden party. She needs to know there are consequences.”
“I’ve heard she can be a handful,” Charlotte said. “She did cause a scene at the house party recently. I wonder if this is a good idea. I know Andrew wants your help, but perhaps he should have a solicitor send her a letter. Maybe then she would be forced to leave London. If that happened it would be for the best, don’t you think?”
“A handful? That’s funny, coming from you,” Dalton said. “People thought you were a murderer when I met you, didn’t they?”
Charlotte batted at him again. “Stop saying things like that, Dalton. You are not making me happy right now.”
“You know I talk with love, my sweet.” Dalton leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Now, Belinda is a few years your senior, is she not?”
“A few, but that doesn’t matter to me. Once she’s over my knee there will be no doubt who’s in charge in the relationship.”
“Will you spank her tonight?” Charlotte asked, eagerly. Her husband turned his gaze to her.
“Jealous? Perhaps you need to be spanked tonight, my love. Or perhaps I should spank you right now, in front of Jonathan.”
Charlotte lowered her eyes, but not before Jonathan caught the glint of mischief that filled her beautiful orbs. He glanced at Dalton, who was smiling in his wife’s direction.
“Come over my lap, Charlotte.”
“Dalton…” It was obvious to Jonathan that she was trying to sound contrite, trying to sound as if she didn’t want to do as he said. But Jonathan knew that she did. Every member of the Rakes of Mayfair knew Charlotte’s affinity for being spanked. She wanted to be paddled at every chance, and would hardly pass one by. Which meant she would take it at this moment.
“I’m not going to tell you again, Charlotte,” Dalton said.
Jonathan sat back and watched as Charlotte stood, then lowered herself over her husband’s lap. Dalton swiftly raised her skirts and undid the flap on her pantalets. He caressed her now bared bottom and Charlotte sighed.
The first slap turned her sigh into a yelp, then Dalton delivered several more.
Jonathan watched for a few moments, then closed his eyes, the sound of the spanking hitting his ears. How he wished he could find a wife who could share his affinity for sex, one whom he could bring into the Rakes Club. All his friends were now married, and their wives were members, and happily so.
When Jonathan felt the urge to be with a woman who wasn’t a simpering sally that would just lay there with her eyes closed, there was usually a Club meeting where a widow would give herself to him for the evening. It was always entertaining, and he enjoyed making love to those women. But lately the physical activity had left him feeling empty. He wanted more. He wanted a woman who he could hold afterwards, a woman who would share his bed at night, who would be there in the morning where they could make love again. He wanted a woman who took to his lifestyle as Charlotte had done for Dalton, as Gabby had done for Fergus, as Clarissa had done for Andrew.
Of course they all seemed to have their own proclivities, their own appetites that they shared—spanking, bondage, public play. Jonathan had none of those things. He just liked sex, rough sex, sweet sex, sex in different places that added to the excitement.
It would be perfect if he could find a woman who shared his needs. Maybe after his current assignment, as he saw it, was over he would find someone to settle down with, as Andrew had recently done with Clarissa.
Jonathan opened his eyes and watched his friend deliver several more swats to his wife’s now reddened bottom. Charlotte squirmed and announced that she’d had enough, but Dalton continued to spank her. Finally, after several long moments, he stopped.
“Enough.” Dalton said softly. He did up Charlotte’s under clothing and helped her to her feet. Then he gently pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.
Jonathan turned his head toward the fire.
“You all right, Barton? I thought you would enjoy watching me spank my wife, in preparation for your event tonight.”
“I did, very much so. It’s time for me to go, though.” He stood and kissed Charlotte’s outstretched hand. “Until tonight.”
Once in his carriage, he sighed deeply. He made a mental plan that, once this business was over, he would find a wife. There was a Club meeting in a few weeks, of that he was certain. Perhaps he had dismissed the ladies there too quickly.
As the carriage started to move he closed his eyes and tried to picture a few of the widows who attended, who enjoyed their naughty evenings with the men of the Club. None of them came immediately to mind, which shocked him. Why couldn’t he picture one of them as his bride? He’d certainly enjoyed their favors from time to time. Thinking of it made him feel a bit of a heel.
He needed to send flowers to the single ladies of the Club. When one of them responded with more than just a demure thank you there was every chance they could have a future together. Either that or they needed to recruit more members for the Rakes Club. He didn’t want to be the only single male participant.
Chapter 2
Belinda tugged the bodice of her dress down as far as she could without her nipples being on display. Although that might not be a bad idea, truthfully. She wanted Lord Barton to be shocked when he saw her dress for the Ellington party tonight. She wanted to have him be embarrassed, by association. Her fervent wish was that he would see her red dress and say, “I’ve changed my mind, and I’m going without you.”
A former lover had bought the dress for her, saying that he liked to see her dressed in red. She’d only worn it in private, for him. Twice he’d made her wear it while they’d made love. Truthfully, she would be embarrassed to be seen in public in this dress. It was so low cut, and had so many flounces and bows that it made her look like a courtesan.
But she would go through with it tonight if it would get Jonathan out of her life. When she went downstairs and he saw her dress she would have nothing more to worry about. Hopefully.
A ruckus from downstairs made her turn her head toward the door. Someone was shouting. It sounded like her butler, Vincent, and after a moment she realized the other voice was one that she’d just heard that afternoon. Jonathan.
Well, he was nothing if not punctual, but she was not going to go downstairs and make things easy on him. She would make him wait for at least five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes. She sat on her bed and waited.
Seconds after she’d settled down, the door to her bedroom opened and Barton stepped inside.
“How dare you!” She stood and pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
“My, my, don’t you look the part.” He strode into the room and looked around. For a moment she thought he would go to one of the chairs, but instead he crossed the room, moved around her and sat down on the bed, his back against the headboards and his feet stretched out in front of him. “I love that color, and it looks perfect on you. But you need to pull up your bodice. I would prefer not to give everyone a look at your nipples. They are quite lovely, though.”
Belinda blushed furiously. Her hands flew to her chest where she tugged on the fabric. The dress, which was several years old and a little too tight, ripped at the waist. She gave a cry of frustration.
“Look what you’ve made me do!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you another. Call your maid back to help you change, and quickly.” He wiggled a finger at her. “We don’t have a lot of time. I don’t like to be late.”
“You are an ass,” she said. “How is it that you were such a nice person during the Stanhope party, and you’ve turned into such a jerk? I just don’t understand.”
“Tick tock, Belinda,” he said, and the smile that appeared on his face made her want to cross the room and slap him.
He didn’t move from the bed. Instead he took out his pocket watch and tapped the glass. “Tick tock,” he repeated.
“Fine, I will change, but you have to leave, first.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and the dress ripped a little more. The only good thing about it happening now was she didn’t have to be embarrassed by it at the party.
“I don’t think so. I don’t trust your choice, and I want to be here to make corrections before you make us even later than we already are.”
He stood and walked to her wardrobe, flinging open the doors with gusto. He began to rifle through her dresses as Belinda stared, her mouth open.
When he pulled out one of her favorite dresses, she felt her stomach roil. How did he know?
“This one.” He handed the green satin to her maid who had just entered the room. He sat back on the bed and crossed his legs at the ankles.
“Jonathan, will you kindly wait downstairs?”
“Please, Belinda, don’t play the simpering virgin. Both of us are far too experienced for that. Now hurry and change, before I lose my temper and decide we must stay home for the promised…”
He cocked his head and left the word unsaid but Belinda knew what it was. Punishment. For the promised punishment.
She nodded to Merry, her maid, who quickly began to undo the laces on the ripped dress.
Belinda stared at Jonathan as the dress was peeled away from her body. Most of her lovers had been older men, much older than herself. It was strange to be undressing in front of the young Lord Barton. She knew he was in his mid-twenties. And he was so handsome. She knew he wouldn’t have the trouble that some of the older ones did. His manhood would always rise to the occasion, she was sure.
She felt herself blush and broke her eyes away from his. His low chuckle made her fume. It was obvious he knew what she was thinking about. And she turned away before he could see the heat rise in her face.
The fact that he affected her in this manner was disconcerting. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, and she didn’t want him to see her reaction. But she refused to look at him again. She would do nothing to give him the upper hand, or more of one than he already had.
She slipped into the dress, keeping her gaze focused on the wall.
“It’s breathtaking,” Barton said. “May I ask who bought it for you?”
“The Duke of Melbourne.” She hoped her voice didn’t crack. Despite what people said about her, she truly did love Taylor. She had asked him several times to give up his title, to divorce his wife and marry her. But he had refused. “He was extremely generous.”
“Well, don’t let it be said that I am not,” Barton said. “Please visit your dressmaker tomorrow and order some new clothing. I prefer greens and blues with your hair. Ten should do it. Have her send the bill to me.”
Belinda’s mouth fell open. She quickly shut it.
“If you think new clothing will put you in a better light you are sorely mistaken.” Merry was doing the stays on the dress, which was one that Belinda had always loved. She felt a little strange wearing it for another man, but if it would get him out of her life it would be worth the pain she felt.
“You look lovely,” he said as Merry put the finishing touches on the dress, and then picked up a small hat. Belinda sat and watched the mirror as Merry secured the hat to her head. “Very lovely indeed,” Barton said.
“Don’t think just because you’ve told people that I’m your mistress, that you will be sharing my bed tonight. I want to make that perfectly clear.”
He held up his hands, one on either side of his body. “I can promise you, Belinda, that I will never force myself on you.”
“Then you will never share my bed, because I will not give myself to you.”
“Then make sure you don’t spend too much of my money,” he said. “I might want to see you in clothing I bought, but not clothing that costs a small fortune.”
She wanted to laugh, because to her ears when he’d offered to buy her clothing he was being generous, and she planned on spending a great deal of his money.
“You should have your man of affairs send me a letter giving me permission to charge to your name,” she said.
“Consider it done,” he said.
She smiled at him. He was in a good mood right now, but he would feel differently tonight after the Ellington crush, after she acted like a spoiled child, which she planned on doing.
“Thank you, milord. I shall be pleased to spend your money.”
When she was fully dressed, he stood and slapped at his sleeves as if he were trying to get out any creases.
“Shall we?” he said.
“Of course, milord, anything you say.”
He stopped her at the doorway and put his fingers under her chin, lifting her eyes to his.
“Behave yourself tonight, Belinda. I was serious when I talked about punishments earlier today.”
She smiled back at him. “Don’t threaten me, Barton.”
“It’s not a threat, little one, it’s a promise.”
Her spine tingled as his breath floated down over her. They were so close, and for a moment she wanted him to lower his lips to hers. Then she remembered that he wanted nothing more than to prove to society that she belonged to him, and wasn’t a threat to his friend’s marriage.
She pulled away and pushed past him, sweeping down the stairs before he could grab her. Before the night was over, he’d be sorry that he’d ever stepped foot inside her house.
Barton tapped his fingers against his thigh as they waited in the carriage line. As usual, the Ellington’s party was overflowing. He liked to think, in no small part, that people were here to see his first public outing with Lady Strauss, who sat across from him and glared out the window.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked her.
“You already know my thoughts,” she said. “Do I need to repeat that I think you’re a brute, a cad… an ass?”
“I believe you’ve made that perfectly clear,” he said. He turned his head to look at the crowded street. “We could get out and walk the rest of the way.”
“I will not show up on foot,” she said.
“I suppose you deserve better than that,” he responded.
“Yes, I do.”
She hadn’t looked at him even though he’d offered to get them out of the carriage. Since she already thought him a cad, he might as well ramp up things a bit.
“Have you ever fucked in a carriage?”
That got her attention and she turned to glare at him. “How dare you use that word in my presence.”
“Says the woman who has made her living off of being a mistress to many different men,” he said, and he immediately regretted it. “Forgive me, that was uncalled for.”
“Being forced to listen to your snide remarks is punishment enough for me,” she said. “You should order the carriage to turn around and take me back to my home.”
His Lady Brat (Rakes of Mayfair Book 6) Page 2