by Golden Angel
Although they also seemed to be under the misapprehension that her and Philip's marriage was some kind of love match. Cordelia wasn't quite sure how to correct them, so she just let their occasional comments slide, and tried to ignore Gabrielle's sneers.
Cordelia wasn't entirely sure what had prompted the Marquess to propose to her of all people. It had been everything she and Marjorie had hoped for, when Marjorie’s husband had introduced them, but Cordelia still didn’t entirely understand the why of it. She assumed it must have something to do with his desire for heirs, the same reason the Baron had wanted to marry her. Although, he'd also wanted to marry her for her dowry. The dowry was gone now, frittered away by Gabrielle's demands after her father's death, when Cordelia had only her own funds to support them. The new Baron had been quite unaccommodating when he'd realized Cordelia wasn't going to accommodate him. She shivered, not wanting to think about how close she'd come to accepting his proposal that she become his mistress, before Philip had proposed.
Sadly, there had been very few other options left open to her. With her parents gone and no other family members to turn to, she'd relied on the charity of friends once the funds meant to sustain her and Gabrielle had been used up. It wasn't Gabrielle's fault she didn't understand how to conserve. As the Baron's only child, she'd been quite spoiled; however, as a daughter and not the necessary son and heir, she'd also been quite neglected. Cordelia felt a great deal of sympathy for Gabrielle, even if the sentiment was not reciprocated nor appreciated. Philip's proposal had come as a godsend for both of them. As Cordelia had no skills, other than running a household, there was no position she could fill except that of a wife or mistress. And if she'd become some man's mistress, who knew what prospects Gabrielle would have had. The new Baron certainly hadn't concerned himself with the young woman's future any more than the old Baron had.
She supposed Philip's proposal must have something to do with her beauty, which was part of her current anxiety. Suppose he was disappointed when he saw her today for some reason? Might he change his mind? Her ability to bear heirs was unproven, as the Baron had not been able to get any on her. Her mind shied away from the few times he'd made the attempt. Cordelia had found that she quite liked kissing Philip, and his touch made her body respond in the most incredible way, but she was still not looking forward to tonight. No matter how attractive Philip was and how he made her feel floaty and tingly all over, the duties of the marriage bed hurt. But, even beyond the safety and security this marriage meant, there were plenty of compensations. She'd put up with whatever she had to as long as he kissed her regularly.
Looking in the mirror once again, she mentally reassured herself that she looked as beautiful as she could. Creamy lace over green silk brought out the green flecks in her hazel eyes and her rich walnut hair was piled high with soft tendrils sneaking down to caress her throat. Philip enjoyed curling those tendrils about his finger when he kissed her and so she had let them fall deliberately. He'd gifted her a wide emerald necklace and matching earrings, which glittered and set off her dress admirably. There was a natural pink flush of excitement and anxiety in her cheeks. She bit her lips gently, to coax more color into them, but other than that... well, she had to admit she did look quite beautiful.
Although, she was afraid Eleanor's gorgeous looks easily overshadowed her. Her soon-to-be cousin was a diamond of the first water, with her blonde locks and sapphire eyes. Irene was quite beautiful too, even if her hair was unfashionably red. She seemed quite confident in her own skin, which Cordelia envied. Being the daughter of a merchant, who had been chosen by a member of the nobility for her money, youth and virginal status, didn't make her a social pariah, but it didn't make her entirely welcome either. And now she was going to be marrying a Marquess.
It was madness that Philip had asked her at all, but what else could her answer be but yes? That he was only a few years older than her, devilishly handsome, and incredibly kind only made it seem more like a dream. Even now she kept expecting to wake up and find that none of it had been real.
"Stop fussing," Gabrielle said peevishly. She sneered. "Philip seems to like the way you look anyway."
The pouting nineteen year old was sitting on a chaise a bit away from the rest of them. Both Eleanor and Irene shot her a quelling look as Cordelia bit her lip again. She was well aware that Gabrielle had made a play for Philip, and he had shot her down. He wasn't the first suitor of Cordelia’s whom Gabrielle had made a play for. They’d all been horrified by her behavior and amateurish attempts at seduction, making it known to Cordelia that she needed to rein in her stepdaughter just before they quit the field entirely. She'd expected Philip to break off the engagement, to be as unwilling to deal with Gabrielle as the others had been, but he hadn't.
All in all, she had a bit of hero worship for her groom.
"I just want to look perfect for him," she said, her voice a mere breath above a whisper.
Immediately Eleanor and Irene swooped in, their backs to Gabrielle, making a barrier between Cordelia and her stepdaughter.
"Of course you do," Eleanor said, gently tugging Cordelia away from the mirror. "But trust me, it won't matter what you look like. He's mad about you."
There was a derogatory noise from Gabrielle's side of the room.
"Which is why this wedding is out in the country, rather than London, with practically no one in attendance?" Gabrielle asked, with a superior sniff.
That wasn't entirely true. The list of wedding guests was small because Philip had been sensitive to Cordelia's lack of relations and her tiny circle of friends. He'd reassured her that he much preferred a small guest list, as he had little liking or patience for grand events. "Think of the guest list as exclusive, not small," he'd told her. Of course, Gabrielle wouldn't see it that way. To help with the exclusivity, Philip had offered up his estate for the wedding. It was only a day's ride away from London and less than an hour away from the Great North Road.
Eleanor's eyes flashed as her voice rose a little higher, a little louder.
"Philip's a very decisive man," Eleanor continued. "Once he decides he wants something, he gets it. And he very much wants you. I’m not surprised he was too impatient to let us plan a grand affair. Not that he has any fondness for the balls and parties anyway." She shot a significant look at Gabrielle, who rolled her eyes and looked away.
"Why, he couldn't take his eyes off you at dinner last night," Irene said, smiling widely, although she didn't speak as loudly as Eleanor. "He looks so very much like Hugh, and believe me, I recognized that look."
"What look?" Cordelia asked, confused. Both Eleanor and Irene giggled and exchanged their own looks, which Cordelia also didn't understand, between them.
"You know, that look, that a man gives a woman when he wants to-" Eleanor cut off as Irene nudged her, tilting her head towards where Gabrielle was sitting. Eleanor coughed, covering up whatever it was she was about to say. "Trust me, he's enamored of you. You two are going to have a wonderfully happy marriage."
"Oh please," Gabrielle's words burst out of her as if she'd been holding them in. "He's only marrying her because he needs an heir, just like my father did."
Eleanor spun around to Gabrielle, glaring, as Cordelia went pale. It was one thing to know it, another to hear someone else say it. Especially because part of her wanted to believe maybe just a little of what Eleanor and Irene were saying was true. Even if she hadn't been in such dire straits, Cordelia thought she might have agreed to marry Philip. More than the security and stability he offered, more than his good looks or his burning kisses, there was something about him that made her want to huddle close to him, as if he could protect her from every terrible thing life might have to throw at her.
So far, it seemed that life had thrown quite a few terrible things her way. She counted herself lucky she hadn't somehow ended up in the streets or working on her back. Perhaps it was a vain hope, but some small, wistful part of her heart desperately wished that this marriage of con
venience could grow into something more. Eleanor and Irene had watered that hope; Gabrielle seemed to want to pull it up by the roots.
"I understand that you have lived your entire life on your father's estate, with no practical interaction with Society or young men," Eleanor said coolly, everything about her demeanor and tone screaming her superior knowledge and maturity. With just a single glance and statement, she made Gabrielle seem a child by comparison. Cordelia envied the easy comfort with which Eleanor wielded that power. "While you may be right about your father's motivations, you have no basis for your statements about my cousin. I hope you pay close attention and learn a few things about what it looks like when a man cares for a woman before you begin your Season and make any dreadful mistakes in your assessments of your suitors' emotions."
The words could have indicated a level of caring on Eleanor's part; an older woman advising a younger one on the possible pitfalls of Society, but her tone cut Gabrielle off at the knees. Cordelia felt grateful to Eleanor for being her defender, while at the same time embarrassed that she'd needed one in the first place. The Baron had always chided Cordelia to be more "feeling" towards her stepdaughter when she'd tried to correct Gabrielle's treatment of her. Since he rarely paid the girl any attention, Gabrielle had made a habit of prodding Cordelia for a reaction, if only to see her father come to her defense when Cordelia took offense.
After the Baron had passed, Cordelia had let Gabrielle's barbs continue... out of habit or sympathy she wasn't certain. Seeing Gabrielle's pout at Eleanor's admonishment perversely made Cordelia want to defend the girl, but she bit her lip. Eleanor had said nothing out of turn, nor had she been harsh. It was just that Gabrielle was used to saying whatever she wanted, especially to Cordelia.
"As you say," Gabrielle finally replied, in a derogatory manner, indicating she did not agree with Eleanor at all. Obviously she had also realized that speaking her mind would get a reaction and not the one she wanted. "I'm going to go see if the carriage is here yet."
Standing, she flounced from the room. Cordelia let out an audible sigh of relief and then blushed. She hoped Eleanor and Irene didn't think less of her for her reaction.
"Is she always like that?" Irene asked, still looking at the door as it closed behind Gabrielle in disbelief.
"Gabrielle can be... difficult," Cordelia admitted, giving the two ladies a small smile, hoping to smooth things over between all of them. "She can be quite sweet when she wants to be."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Eleanor muttered, turning Cordelia away from the mirror. Cordelia couldn't help but grimace, and Eleanor gave her a wry smile. "Don't worry, dear, Philip won't put up with any of that nonsense in his house. I'm sure he'll soon have her toeing the line." As imposing as Philip was, Cordelia wasn't sure even he would manage that.
To her surprise, Irene giggled. "If he's anything like Hugh, he certainly will. I can't imagine what Hugh's reaction to her would be, if she said something so uncouth in front of him."
"I can," Eleanor said, with a roll of her eyes. "And Edwin's exactly the same." She gave Cordelia a wry grin. "I used to be a bit like Gabrielle, if you can believe it." She laughed as Cordelia shook her head. "Oh yes. I was quite spoiled and quite determined to give Edwin a rough go of our marriage. Actually, in the beginning of our marriage I was quite awful."
"How did he stop you?" Cordelia asked, fascinated. From the little she'd seen so far, Eleanor was quite strong-willed. Irene was much more like Cordelia in temperament, although she was quite a bit more confident than Cordelia was.
Glancing around, despite the fact that they were all alone in the room together, Eleanor leaned in conspiratorially.
"Spankings," she whispered... and giggled.
Cordelia's initial reaction was to be horrified... but Eleanor was giggling and Irene was smiling, and so she didn't know what to think. "Spankings?"
"Or a strapping or birching if I'd done something particularly awful," Eleanor said with a little shiver. "One time I threw something at his head and he took a wooden spoon to my backside."
"That sounds awful!" Cordelia was aghast, and also a bit worried that Eleanor spoke about it so matter-of-factly. But, perhaps being spanked wasn't the horror she imagined?
"Oh it was, but he stopped giving me the bad kind of spankings when I stopped deserving them."
"The bad kind..." Cordelia echoed, feeling more confused with every explanatory sentence that Eleanor spoke.
The blonde nodded. "Sometimes there's the good kinds." She giggled. "I suppose the old Baron didn't play any of those games with you?"
"Definitely not," Cordelia said, shaking her head. She wouldn't have wanted him to. Her late husband had not been playful or kind, and she didn't doubt that a physical punishment from him would have been awful. Fortunately, he'd mostly ignored her, as long as she stayed quiet and easy-going. She looked at Irene curiously. "Does Hugh...?" She couldn't quite bring herself to say the words, no matter how easily Eleanor talked about it.
"Not... not quite like Eleanor." Irene's pale skin flushed pink, contrasting with the hue of her hair. Obviously, Irene was less comfortable speaking of such matters, which, oddly, made Cordelia feel more comfortable with her. "Hugh has disciplined me on occasion, and it has led to quite enjoyable pleasure, but I do not enjoy the actual punishments. Although, Eleanor's not nearly as bad as Cynthia."
"No one's as bad as Cynthia," Eleanor said. "She actually likes the punishment spankings. Fortunately, Wesley's more than a match for her. You'll meet her later today, and you'll see what we mean."
The door opened suddenly, making them all jump. Their conversation was highly inappropriate, for all that Cynthia appreciated the warning. Philip was a very domineering man, she could easily imagine him turning her over his knee for a spanking. The idea was quite terrifying, and yet Eleanor and Irene had both made it sound... well, not nearly as bad as Cynthia's imagination made it seem. Her curiosity was piqued, but not enough for her to desire a demonstration.
It shouldn't be hard, after her years as the Baron's little seen and little heard younger wife, to stay out of trouble as Philip's wife. Granted, there were the shoals of Society to maneuver around, but she already felt as though she could count on Eleanor and Irene to help show her the way. At least, when they were around.
"The carriage is here, my lady," said Marjorie as she re-entered the room, her eyes bright with anticipation. No one had been happier for Cordelia than Marjorie when Philip had proposed. A flutter of anticipation went through Cordelia's breast.
The possibility of spanking or not, she was much more excited about this wedding than her first.
Chapter 2
When Cordelia came down the aisle, on the Earl of Irving's arm, a kind of savage, possessive glee went through Philip's chest. The guests murmured in appreciation as she passed by them. His bride was so lovely, so quietly elegant, and it was all he could do not to rush down the aisle and sweep her up in his arms. The poor darling looked incredibly nervous, her eyes downcast beneath her thin veil, only sweeping up to meet his gaze halfway down the aisle. She was clinging to Irving's arm, her lacy skirts brushing against the Earl's leg, and Philip had to tamp down on his jealousy at seeing her touching another man.
At least the new Baron, who should have had the duty of giving her away, had sent his regrets to the wedding invitation, claiming duties on the estate. Philip didn't think he would have been able to control his ire if he'd had to see the blaggard actually touching Cordelia. Unfortunately, she didn't have any other family to give her away and so she'd asked the husband of her closest friend to do the honors. The Earl had been delighted and flattered to be asked.
Standing up for Cordelia were the Countess Irving and Gabrielle. The little hussy had been fluttering her eyelashes at Philip ever since she'd gotten into place beside the altar, but he ignored her. As beautiful as Gabrielle was, and she was quite beautiful as well as vivacious, her young charms had absolutely no appeal to him. The sweet demeanor she displayed
was an act that he saw through easily; nothing like the inherent sweetness that imbued Cordelia through and through. Gabrielle’s efforts were off-putting, rather than enticing, her inexperience at flirting quite evident.
When Irving passed her off to Philip, he closed his fingers around her gloved hand and held it tightly. Wide eyes looked at him through the veil, her pink lips parted as if in anticipation of a kiss.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, smiling at her encouragingly as she stood beside him and they both faced the minister. The smile he got in return warmed him.
As he turned his attention to the minister, he caught a glimpse of Gabrielle's pout from her place behind Countess Irving. Which only confirmed to him that he'd made the right choice in asking Felix to keep an eye on her. He knew he could rely on his friend.
The wedding seemed to speed by, all of his attention on the feel of Cordelia's slim fingers engulfed by his hand and her presence warming his side. The exchange of vows was the first time he was able to look into her eyes, and his voice was strong and firm as he vowed to love, cherish, and worship her. Cordelia's voice was low but clear, as she promised to love, cherish, and obey him as her husband.
Exultation lanced through his chest as the minister pronounced them man and wife. His... Cordelia was his. His to cherish, his to pleasure, and his to care for and protect.