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Marriage Training

Page 13

by Golden Angel


  “You seem to be feeling better today,” Emily commented over dinner. The other girls were engrossed in discussing the gossip Astoria had received in a letter from her mother, allowing Emily to get in a quick, private aside to Vivian.

  “Very much so,” said Vivian, smiling. Although she couldn’t completely quell her apprehension about her evening punishment, because it always hurt, she couldn’t help but feel rather excited, too, beneath the anxiousness. It was as if she no longer had any control over her emotions or her reactions, at least not in the evenings; only today when she presented her cool facade to the other young women in the practicum did she feel in control. It didn’t hurt that she knew today’s punishment should be less, which meant the pleasure would come faster.

  “You weren’t at all yourself yesterday.”

  Vivian smiled ruefully at her friend. She was quite sure Emily suspected there was something Vivian wasn’t telling her, and of course she was right, but there wasn’t any recourse that Vivian could see. She certainly couldn’t tell Emily the truth; what would her friend think? “No, I wasn’t feeling very well.”

  Overhearing Astoria say the Earl of Cranborne’s title, Vivian’s head snapped to the right, to the other young ladies from their class. Astoria was talking excitedly about how the earl had apparently become betrothed, but no one seemed to know who the lucky young lady was.

  “Of course, it might not be true,” Astoria said, her avaricious blue eyes hopeful. “After all, my mother said she spoke to Cranborne’s eldest sister about it, but she was very mysterious. Wouldn’t even tell my mother her name.”

  Lily opened her mouth, her eyes darting to Vivian and then away. Of course she, Charity, and Emily all knew about Vivian’s betrothal, but they hadn’t talked about it among themselves since Vivian had shared the news. Lily and Charity didn’t know how she felt about it, since Vivian had only shared the earl’s visits with Emily. She hadn’t meant to keep him a secret exactly, but already being betrothed, rather than readying herself for her debut, was just another thing that made her different from the other students. She hadn’t spoken of it to the others since the day after her birthday.

  “It’s Vivian Stafford,” Emily said, inserting herself into the conversation with a sly smile. She didn’t like Astoria any better than Vivian did, even though Astoria toadied to her constantly.

  “Excuse me?” Astoria said, blinking rapidly, completely taken aback.

  “His fiancée’s name. It’s Vivian Stafford.” Emily grinned at Vivian, who smiled back, although her stomach was now churning with anxiety. Rosalie was flat-out staring at her, mouth hanging open in a very unattractive manner. To her left, Astoria glared derisively.

  “Very funny, Emily,” the blonde said snidely.

  “It’s true,” Charity said, giving Astoria a superior look. “Vivian told us weeks ago.” Well, a couple weeks ago, but Vivian didn’t begrudge Charity the implication that it had been longer. Although Charity was the niece of a duke, her father didn’t have a title and Astoria could be quite condescending to her at times.

  “Really?” Astoria drawled the word, eyeing Vivian as if she was some kind of slimy worm that had just crawled out from underneath a rock. “Strange how no one else knows about it, then.”

  “Are you saying I lied?” Vivian asked, surprised into responding. She usually tried not to engage Astoria at all. Emily couldn’t help but bait her, but Vivian usually came out of any verbal sparring feeling at a loss. Astoria had mastered the art of being insulting without actually issuing an insult.

  “Of course not,” Astoria said airily, although, of course, that was exactly what she meant. “It’s just strange, isn’t it? You told Charity weeks ago, and yet not one of us heard anything about it from anyone else until now. Very strange.”

  Which Vivian couldn’t take offense to, because it was strange. She would have thought the news of someone as consequential as the Marquess of Salisbury’s heir becoming betrothed would have been trumpeted about quite quickly. Unless, of course, he was keeping it quiet for some reason. Was he keeping it quiet for some reason?

  She kept her face impassive, not wanting Astoria to see the line of conversation had affected her.

  “Perhaps the earl didn’t want to subject himself to common gossip,” Emily said in a bored tone. “After all, with Vivian here at the school, I’m sure there would be an untoward amount of ill-bred interest in his betrothed. Why, the school would be overrun with gossip-mongers.”

  Vivian envied Emily’s ease of turning the insults back on Astoria without actually coming out and calling Astoria or her mother gossips. It was the kind of thing Vivian didn’t know if she’d ever be able to do; she’d been raised with country manners and wasn’t used to the sly double-speak the others had grown up with.

  Although Astoria’s face turned pink with fury at Emily’s insinuations, there wasn’t anything she could do. Icily offering Vivian her best wishes, the snobbish blonde quickly turned the conversation back to the day’s activities. It was one of the few things they could all converse over perfectly amicably.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE REST OF THE WEEK PASSED THE WAY the week before had: the practicum during the day, and disciplines for her mistakes at night. Between her earlier hour of rising and the exhausting punishments and pleasures she was receiving in the evening, Vivian slept very soundly every night. To her delight, the earl sent a note on Wednesday, again requesting her company for dinner on Friday. She whispered the news to Emily, who immediately spread it on to Charity and Lily, which meant Rosalie and Astoria knew quickly as well.

  The blonde still seemed disbelieving, but she’d been quieter during the week with Vivian. Not as nasty. Whether Astoria believed Vivian was betrothed to the earl or not, Vivian was grateful for the reprieve.

  Her evening with the earl was wonderful. He’d brought some of his sketches to show her; ones that he’d done of his family and of Brentwood and the other estates. She’d barely tasted a bite of her meal as she’d exclaimed over his skill and the wonderful sketches. The landscapes were beautiful and the ones of his family made her laugh. He’d drawn his sister Henrietta sitting outside of a door with her ear pressed against a keyhole.

  The whole dinner was wonderful.

  The dinner was hell.

  Although Mrs. Banks had left them alone again, Gabriel was starting to think he would prefer to have the older woman in the room as a buffer. His instincts as a rake made him want to seduce Vivian right there in her chair, to pull the pins from her glorious hair, pull down the front of her dress to reveal her pink nipples, and push up her skirts until he could feast on the cream between her thighs, rather than the cream on the berries they were having for dessert.

  With any other woman in his past, he’d seen, desired, and taken. He’d never had to exercise his patience or willpower so greatly, especially when he had all the opportunity in the world to seduce her. There was no one to stop him. No one would blame him. But it would interrupt her training.

  More than that, Gabriel was restrained by his concern that it would also distress Vivian. She was naturally modest and a complete innocent, despite her lessons. While he noted the increased pace of her breathing when he touched her, the blush on her cheeks, and the way her nipples puckered beneath her dress, he could also tell she was a bit discomposed by her response to him. Although she didn’t shy away from his touch, she always stilled beneath his fingers for a moment, as if gauging whether to stay or flit away.

  Young innocents were not what he was used to, but he knew what his honor demanded. Vivian deserved to go to their marriage bed a virgin. Even if it meant his cock ached unrelentingly every moment he was in her presence.

  So he tortured himself by pulling his chair next to hers as he showed her his sketches, pointing out little things in each of the scenes for her to focus on. Her delight in them was evident, her smile genuine. He hadn’t brought any of his more recent drawings, because they were all of her. As they looked at his work, he f
antasized about a day in the future when he’d be able to sketch her while she posed for him. Naked. Bound. Bottom burnished by his hand or a paddle or some other implement. He could think of a thousand different poses off the top of his head he would love to put her in and then draw her.

  When they reached the last sketch, Vivian turned her head slightly to look at him, her green eyes shining with happiness. It made him happy as well; he rarely shared his sketches with anyone. It wasn’t just the content that was private—gentlemen of his stature were supposed to be more interested in things like horses, hunting, and women. Which he was, but he also liked to sketch.

  “Would you like to see my water colors the next time you visit?” she asked shyly. “I mean, if you come again—I certainly don’t expect . . .”

  “I’d love to, Sunrise,” he said sincerely, reaching up to cup her chin in his hand and stop her nervous rambling. She was sweetly adorable and entirely seductive in her innocence, and if he didn’t at least take a taste of her tonight . . .

  Well, he didn’t know what he would do, but it didn’t matter because she was in the perfect position to steal a kiss.

  Their first kiss.

  Gabriel had been with his share of women, but a first kiss had never been so important. Usually a first kiss heralded a sign of success, that the woman would be his to bed, but Vivian was already his. Her body, her passion, her future all belonged to him; there was no need for conquest or seduction. Once they were married he could do what he willed with her.

  This was the beginning of something more. The emotion welling in him as her soft lips pressed against his, parting on a gasp and allowing him to slide his tongue into her mouth and taste the sweet berries and cream intermingling with a flavor that was uniquely and definitively her own, wasn’t triumph over a conquest. It was deeper. More powerful. Less under his control.

  He groaned as her tongue touched his and he deepened the kiss, taking more of her mouth. One hand still holding her head in place, the other reached out to tug her closer to him, so the sides of their bodies were pressed together and his hand caressed her hip. She responded hesitantly but ardently, and her hesitation was the only thing forcing him to hang onto his control.

  He pulled away from her before he could follow up on his instincts, but he realized he needed to end the evening immediately. Vivian’s eyes were wide, filled with both arousal and fear. While he could seduce her easily, right here and now, they weren’t married. She wouldn’t sleep in his bed tonight, and they wouldn’t be seeing each other again until next week. Too much time for her to question, for her to worry over her ruined state—it didn’t matter that they were engaged, it wasn’t the same as being married. She would worry and he wouldn’t be there to soothe or reassure her.

  Which meant they needed to stop now, before he lost control.

  “I’ll see you next week, Sunrise. I promise.”

  Seemingly speechless, Vivian nodded as he rose and went to the door, calling Mrs. Banks in and taking his leave of the both of them. Striding out to Lucifer, he knew he wasn’t going to go straight home. He needed to go for a long ride, to feel the wind whipping against his face and the freedom that came from moving so swiftly.

  Besides, Lucifer could use the exercise.

  Sunlight, rather than the maid, woke Vivian. For a moment she felt panicked and sat bolt upright, thinking she was late for the practicum and Mrs. Banks would be using the dreaded hairbrush on her that evening, and then she remembered it was Saturday and she did not need to worry about the practicum. How very strange. Falling back onto her pillow, she let her pounding heart slow as she wondered why the teachers allowed them to have two days off from the practicum. After all, once the students were married and had their own households to run, they would not receive any such break from their duties.

  Then again, they would be able to dictate for themselves when they could rest. Even the most social of the ton had days when they stayed in and were not “at home” to visitors. That was not an option for the students, of course, as their schedules were dictated by the school and their companions.

  Flopping back against her pillows, Vivian shivered a little. Her dreams had been full of the earl and his burning touch, the strong hands that had easily pulled her against him and the kisses that had made her melt. Kisses where he’d put his tongue in her mouth! She’d tried to utilize the lessons Mrs. Banks had been giving her in the evenings, but fingers weren’t the same as a tongue, and she’d been so overcome by all the sensations coursing through her that she had barely been able to think.

  Being touched by Gabriel was entirely different from Mrs. Banks. Her skin had felt like it was on fire, and pleasure had curled inside of her so quickly, but it was different from the pleasure Mrs. Banks gave her in the evenings. Somehow more encompassing, even though she hadn’t climaxed.

  If the earl could do that to her with a kiss, what would it be like when he actually did the things Mrs. Banks did to her?

  Thinking back about some of the things Mrs. Banks had said about her evening training and how she was lucky, Vivian was beginning to understand what her companion meant. She had known what the strange fluttering and coiling in her stomach had meant when Gabriel kissed her breathless, known that something wonderful could come of it.

  Suddenly feeling energized, Vivian decided it would be a waste to spend the day in bed, no matter how delightful the idea seemed. Pushing herself up off the bed, she rang for the maid.

  An hour later, her face and neck scrubbed, fiery copper tresses pinned in place, Vivian went to break her fast. As she sat eating her eggs and kippers, Mrs. Banks walked into the room and headed straight for her. Vivian smiled and stood as her companion approached, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt.

  No one watching Vivian would ever guess she spent her evenings being spanked for mistakes made during the day, or that she would even enjoy such a thing. Last night had been particularly pleasurable, with her body already humming from the earl’s kiss; the spanking had made her kick and cry out as always, but she hadn’t cared. It felt like a casting off of her mistakes during the day, a relief from feeling that she’d disappointed Mrs. Banks, and then she was rewarded.

  The older woman greeted her, delivering letters from her family before leaving Vivian to enjoy her day off. As soon as the companion turned and walked away, Vivian sat down eagerly; she put the smaller envelope to the side as she ripped open the larger, bulkier one. Several letters tumbled out, all from different members of her family. She reached for the one with the heavier, blockier handwriting first, recognizing it as her father’s.

  Homesickness welled over Vivian as she read through the letters. To her surprise, she realized Gabriel must be helping her family out financially already, even though they weren’t married . . . even knowing she could call a halt to her training at any time and he would never receive his funds back.

  While her father and mother were discreet, and didn’t come out and say that financially their lives had improved yet again, she could tell anyway from the description of their activities and their talk about preparing her brother Alastair for school at Eton. Alastair’s letter and her youngest sister Rose’s were the shortest, both talking of the new ponies they’d gotten. Persephone’s letter was the most revealing, as she had always been the most outspoken of the baron’s daughters and was old enough to realize something had changed. Vivian wondered if her father had read Persephone’s letter before sending it—perhaps he should have, because she was quite forthright in describing the various changes around the household.

  The ponies are the least of it; it seems as though every week Father is bringing home a new toy for Alastair, and Mother took Rose and me to the seamstress this week and ordered us entirely new wardrobes! After so many years of wearing your cast-offs, I must admit it felt wonderful to be measured for my own dresses and to be able to choose the colors and styles.

  The library is filled with books again, all the empty shelves replenished, and Mother’s wea
ring her emeralds again. I must admit, I didn’t even notice they were gone for so long until she was suddenly wearing them again; her fingers stroke the necklace constantly, as if she’s afraid they might disappear as suddenly as they returned.

  Father does not say much about where such a windfall comes from, but he has mentioned that your future husband’s generosity is partly to thank. I was surprised you have not written me of your betrothal, but I suppose you must be very busy with your studies. I hope perhaps next year I might be able to go to Mrs. Cunningham’s, if an earl is the type of husband one can expect at the end of it! When you are able to write you must tell me more about your studies and your future husband.

  Love, Persephone

  As she folded up the letter from her sister, Vivian smiled. Obviously her family’s financial worries were over and it was all due to the earl. Gratitude welled up inside of her as she silently vowed to do everything she could to learn how to please him.

  After all, from what she’d learned in her evening training so far, it would be pleasing to her as well. Even though the spankings hurt, she didn’t think she’d want to give them up anymore.

  vivian spent the early afternoon strolling in the gardens. Emily joined her for part of it before heading off to the stables. Her friend could never resist the lure of the horses. For her part, Vivian was content to chat with the other students, trying to distract herself and make the day pass more quickly. Unfortunately, their conversation wasn’t enough to hold her attention, and she found herself rudely staring off into space quite frequently. Without classes and the practicum, the hours seemed to drag by. She found her mind wandering constantly back to the night before and her very first kiss.

  As much as she wanted to tell someone about it, she also wanted to keep it to herself for a while longer. Almost like a secret. Sharing it with someone else would make it somehow less intimate.

 

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