Page 7 of Desire and Discipline

Priscilla

So many emotions were rushing through her, one after another, she could not say what she felt.

Betrayal.

Anger.

Relief.

Jealousy.

Curiosity.

Hurt.

They collided against each other and rolled around in a tumult, knocking about inside of her until she wanted to fall to her knees and scream.

But a lady did not do such things. Certainly not where she could be observed.

And not in front of her husband’s… paramour was not the correct word, apparently, which was the reason for her relief.

For some reason, Joseph had felt the need to keep this side of himself apart from her, which hurt. And she was very angry at both him and Evie, as well as her friends. The betrayal she felt was not only due to Joseph but also toward those who had clearly known.

While she understood there was some rule keeping them from revealing the truth to her, her emotions did not care about logic, and she was furious.

Though mostly at Joseph. Far more than her friends.

After all, they had all been his friends for longer, and she’d seen the expression of betrayal on his face when he’d realized what his cousin had done.

She knew she would forgive her friends, but that was a matter for later. Right now, she did not want any of them there to further interfere with matters between herself and Joseph. She needed to focus on her husband and could not do that with them there.

Thankfully, it seemed the lady was willing to serve as her guide for the evening, though in a far greater capacity than Evie or Anthony would have. Priscilla was no longer going to be watching—she was going to be participating.

Learning.

And her fingers itched to do it.

To hurt him the way he’d hurt her.

“I am Lady Cross.” Tall and stately, she did not seem particularly disturbed despite everything. She held herself with a confident bearing that Priscilla yearned to emulate. “You may call me Catherine.”

“Mrs. Priscilla Stuart,” she replied, suddenly feeling much more unsure now that her friends were no longer at her back, and she was faced with the woman her husband had snuck out to meet. “Please call me Priscilla.”

“This way,” Catherine said, gesturing at the open door just behind her. She looked past Priscilla. “I assume there will be no further need to argue about the lock?”

“No, ma’am,” Joseph said in a low voice that Priscilla had never heard before. Her heart constricted. His head was hanging down, so she could not see his expression, but he looked like a kicked dog.

Part of her—a vengeful, petty part of her—was glad. That was how she felt, too, underneath her fury. At the same time, she was relieved he did not have a lover in Catherine. It seemed he only went to her to have very specific needs fulfilled and saved his loving for Priscilla.

She was glad about that. Relieved. But still hurt he’d felt it necessary to keep this secret from her. And she did not understand why he had not told her. The fact that he did not seem to want her there at all had been what hurt the most.

Even now, he did not look at her as he came into the room.

Instead, he stood silently staring at the floor, fists clenching and unclenching as he shifted his weight back and forth.

Priscilla pressed her lips together and looked at Catherine, who was studying them both with a critical eye.

Squaring her shoulders, she met the older lady’s gaze evenly.

She did not know what Catherine was looking for, but if there was anything Priscilla had experience with, it was being judged by the most intimidating ladies of the ton.

It had taken her three Seasons to find a husband, including two where her most promising suitors had ended up engaged to other debutantes.

She was very used to being looked over with a critical eye, as her own mother’s had become more so with every Season she’d ended without securing a proper proposal.

“What do you know about the Society?” Catherine asked after a long moment.

“Not very much,” Priscilla admitted. “This is my first visit. I have spoken with my friends about their experiences and was curious. When they told me Joseph had been a member in the past, they invited me to come, and I thought perhaps it was something I should see. To understand both them and him better.”

“Laudable. What do you think so far?”

“It is not what I expected.” Priscilla could not help the short, sharp, bitter laugh that escaped from her.

She cut it off abruptly, realizing how harsh and unlike herself it sounded as it grated over her ears.

Joseph flinched. Taking a deep breath, she tamped down her unruly emotions.

“From what my friends have said, the draw for them is being on the receiving end. I must admit, I cannot imagine enjoying such a thing. However, when you said that you punish Joseph…”

It seemed an awful thing that she wanted to punish her husband, despite how deserved it was. Ladies were not supposed to want such things. They were supposed to turn a blind eye to their husband’s indiscretions and pretend they knew of no such thing.

But Priscilla had seen marriages built upon very different foundations among Joseph’s friends and family.

They all belonged to the Society of Sin together.

They had worked together to bring down a traitor to the Crown.

She could not imagine Evie, Josie, Mary, or even quiet Lily tolerating a husband with a wandering eye.

That was the kind of marriage Priscilla wanted.

It was the kind of marriage she’d thought she had… right up until this evening.

Apparently, if she was going to get what she wanted, she would need to punish her husband.

Fortunately, that was exactly what she wanted to do.

Imagining Joseph in a position to be flogged, imagining herself being the one to bring the whip down on his back and buttocks…

a hot flush of excitement went through her body.

What was wrong with her?

“One thing to know is that we should never punish out of anger,” Catherine said sternly.

“Though you have every right to be so, you should only lift an implement—or your hand—when you are fully in control of yourself.” She looked Priscilla up and down, lifting an eyebrow.

“As a lady of the ton , I assume you have plenty of experience in controlling your emotions.”

“A bit.” Priscilla took a deep breath because Catherine was correct.

She’d had three Seasons as a debutante holding in every emotion, every fear, every annoyance, every frustration, and becoming a married lady had only loosened those chains a bit, not freed them.

Even with her friends, even with Joseph, she had never been able to fully relax, though she had become much more so than with anyone else.

“Good.” Catherine nodded approvingly. “Now, is there any reason other than your anger that you would like to dominate him?”

Dominate him.

The words reverberated through her, touching something deep inside of her that she had not known existed. That, before this moment, she would have never been able to admit was a part of her. Priscilla licked her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Joseph’s head jerked up, and he was finally looking at her, staring at her aghast as if he’d never seen her before.

She did her best to ignore him. After his behavior, he did not get to set judgment on hers.

She would not let him stifle her. Especially not when Catherine was nodding approvingly for her to continue.

“Yes,” she said more strongly, though the words came faster and faster as she continued, as though she was afraid she would not be able to get them all out otherwise.

“When we first arrived this evening, we stopped to view a scene in one of the rooms. It was a man flogging a woman. It was… I could not look away. But I was not picturing myself in the woman’s place.

I was picturing myself in the man’s. I wanted to touch her skin and see what it felt like.

I wanted it to have hurt her. And I do not know if I know her.

I did not see her face. But… it called to me on a level I found disturbing. ”

By the time she finished speaking, her heart was pounding inside her chest, and she felt as though she’d just run down the length of Hyde Park in a race. However, she felt such relief releasing the words out into the world, admitting the thoughts one should never say aloud.

Joseph was still staring at her, and the heat that had suffused her cheeks now felt like it was creeping down her neck to her chest. It was not exactly embarrassment; at least, she did not want it to be.

She had nothing to be embarrassed about. That was what she told herself. After all, what she was describing was exactly what he was receiving from a woman who was not his wife.

Joseph

This was not the Priscilla he knew.

He was having trouble equating the woman he’d married with the one who stood before him now.

He did not know how he felt about her.

Well, his cock did. His cock had grown harder and harder with every word out of her beautiful mouth. The dark part of his psyche was yearning for what she was describing, eager to test these convictions with her.

Then there was the other part of him.

The part that had been terrified that his amiable, pleasant wife would find out about his depraved desires was now horrified that she shared them. That’s not what a wife was supposed to do. Wives were supposed to be… something else.

Except that was not right, either.

Lady Cross had been married at one point.

So had his previous mistress, who had actually been his lover.

Though he did not know if either of them had had this kind of relationship with their husbands.

He had never asked. Never thought to. He’d assumed their husbands would never have agreed to such a thing…

but now, he could not find a true reason why he would make such an assumption.

“Joseph.” Lady Cross’ stern tone jerked his attention away from Priscilla, who he’d been staring at rather blankly. He blinked, refocusing on the lady. “Would you like to tell your wife your preferences, or should I?”

“I…” He looked back and forth between them. “I do not know if I can do this.”

“Why not?” Priscilla asked, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest. His cock jerked again, even as his chest clenched. “You had no problem doing… this… with Lady Cross.”

“Exactly. She’s not… she’s not my wife.” The words came out before he could consider how they sounded, and Priscilla jerked as if he’d slapped her.

Bloody hell. “Priscilla, that’s not what I meant.

I meant, you’re my wife. I’m supposed to respect you, protect you, not bring you into my perversions…

and how are you supposed to respect me after… after…”

Lady Cross closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, but before she could say anything, Priscilla was already shaking her head. With her hands on her hips, she glared at him, as if he was a nincompoop. And maybe he was.

“Do you think that Anthony respects Evie any less after disciplining her? Do you think Elijah respects Josie less?”

“Well, no, but that’s because Evie and Josie are not men. They are… they are supposed to be…”

Groaning, Lady Cross let her arm fall.

“You care too much what other people think, Joseph. You always have.” She sent a sympathetic glance toward Priscilla, who did not see it because she was too busy glaring at Joseph, struggling to find the words to respond to him.

“Have I ever given you any indication that I hold you in less esteem because you are on the receiving end of discipline?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Has anyone in this house ever made you feel that way?”

“No, but…”

“Priscilla, did you lose any respect for your husband because he enjoys being punished?”

“No,” she said coldly. “But I did lose some for him when I realized he has so little for me.”

It felt like an accusation, and it hurt, especially when he had been behaving with nothing but respect for her.

“What are you talking about?” The words burst out of him, finally allowing him to complete a sentence.

“I have done nothing but show respect for you! I have not only been more than discreet, but from the beginning of our courtship, I released my lover and have never taken another! That is more than most gentlemen would do!”

“And far less than most of the men in your family have done,” Priscilla snapped back, taking him by surprise. She crossed her arms over her chest, radiating hurt, anger, and a strong desire not to be touched, though he now ached to reach out and hold her.

Despite his best intentions, he had hurt her. Despite his best intentions, she clearly did not feel respected. And she was not wrong.

“They share everything with their wives. Their desires, their ambitions, and their nights at the Society. You… you have been keeping things from me.”

“And you have not from me?” While she might be correct, he was certainly not the only one who had been keeping secrets.

“I had no idea you knew about the Society. You never mentioned wanting to explore any such… things. I did not know you were aware of… anything. You could have told me, just as much as I could have told you.”

Priscilla’s mouth opened. Closed. She blinked, then frowned fiercely at him.

“You are correct. I could have, and I should have. I apologize. I was afraid to bring it up when the others said you had been a member in the past, but you said nothing to me. I did not want to bring it up when I did not know how I felt about everything myself, especially when I was not sure I did not want to try it.” She might be frowning, her tone almost tart, but it was also clear she was sincere in her explanation.

Joseph suddenly felt even smaller than before. Rather than arguing with him, Priscilla had apologized immediately. The exact opposite of how he had responded. Though some men would take it as their due, he was aware of his own hypocrisy.

“I apologize as well,” he said in a low voice, no longer able to meet her gaze.

“I did not share this part of my life with you, and I never intended to. I was afraid it would make you think less of me. I also apologize for my reaction to your presence and for making more assumptions on your behalf.”

“Good.” Lady Cross clapped her hands together, startling both of them. To Joseph’s surprise, she was smiling. “Now that we have gotten that out of the way, I believe we can begin.”