"But surely now that her reputation is destroyed…" North shook his head as realization sank in. "Ah yes, hardly the kind of thing you want to base your marriage on, is it? Don't want her saying yes because she had no other choice."
Oh, she would have a choice. She could take ruination over him, which was what Brahm was afraid of. "I would never know if she married me because she loves me or because she felt she had to."
"You could always ask," Wynthrope suggested after an amazingly long silence, as he picked a hair off the arm of his dark blue coat. "No, forget it, that is too simple."
Brahm threw a pillow at his brother, which Wynthrope easily ducked, being light on his feet and possessed of catlike reflexes. Brahm had been that sure of foot once. Now he'd topple like a house of cards. "She would not admit to it, you idiot. Besides, she has given me no indication that she even wants to marry me. She has been too busy blaming herself for my drinking."
"Women." Wynthrope shook his head. "They will blame themselves for the most foolish of things. Honestly, it's not as though you gave her reason to blame herself. It's not as though you went directly from her father's estate to a club and got foxed." He snapped his fingers. "Oh wait, that is exactly what happened."
Brahm's jaw tightened. "Get out."
His younger brother shrugged carelessly. He obviously wasn't about to leave, and Brahm was in no condition to remove him physically. "I'm only saying what is true, and you know it."
Wynthrope had him there, damn it. If only Brahm had his strength back, he'd get out of bed and plant a good solid facer on Wynthrope, but he was still too weak for that.
"You have to tell her it is not her fault, Brahm." It was North who spoke— North, ever the voice of reason.
Brahm sighed and laid his head back. "Yes, I know."
"And you have to marry her before society rejects her altogether."
Wynthrope made a scoffing sound. "What difference does that make? It's not as though marrying
him
will improve her social standing."
"I will marry her because she loves me and wants to marry me," Brahm informed them, annoyed that his brother was right once again. "She will not agree to it for less." Which was one more reason he was terrified to ask.
North pursed his lips. "Do you love her?"
Was this hollow feeling in his gut love, or was it hunger? Was the ache he felt inside love, or the results of his drunken debaucheries? Could he love her? He was obsessed with her, to be sure. But was it love?
"He must love her," Wynthrope remarked.
North frowned at him. "He hasn't said anything."
"I know. It is taking him too long."
Brahm's head moved back and forth on the pillow as he watched the two of them discuss him as though he wasn't even there.
"How does that mean he loves her then?" North scowled.
Wynthrope threw open his hands. "Because he is trying to think of something to prove that he
isn't
in love with her and he cannot."
Brahm and Wynthrope might not always get along, but it was eerie how well his brother knew him at times.
"It is time for us to go." North took Wynthrope by the arm, obviously unimpressed with his brother. "Come on, you."
Wynthrope allowed himself to be pulled along. "Beg for forgiveness," he advised Brahm as he neared the door. "Nothing will make a woman realize she loves you more than casting yourself at her feet. I know this for a fact."
Brahm chuckled as North yanked Wynthrope's arm, practically pulling their brother off his feet. Wynthrope was an ass at times, but he was also good for a laugh when needed. And he had a very concise way of putting things in perspective.
Would begging for Eleanor's forgiveness work? What if he begged for her heart?
He reached for the bellpull. When Mrs. Stubbins arrived, he asked her to have Eleanor come to his room. After his behavior a few hours earlier, he'd be lucky if she didn't keep him waiting. Hell, he'd be lucky if she came at all.
Luck, it seemed, was on his side after all. Just a few moments after he sent Mrs. Stubbins after her, Eleanor appeared in his door.
"You rang?" Her tone was so droll, so caustic that Brahm smiled. Still smarting from their argument earlier, eh? He didn't blame her. He had been an ass.
"Come in, please." He pushed himself up in the bed, not bothering to haul the covers up with him. She was far from immune to the sight of his bare chest, and he was prepared to use any weapon in his arsenal.
She did as he asked, her gaze lighting on his naked torso and then flitting away like a butterfly on the breeze.
"Wynthrope and North were just here," he informed her.
"Oh?" She looked disappointed that she had not seen them. Or was that relief? It was hard to tell. "I had a visitor myself."
"Who?" If it had been a man, he'd kill him. He might have had to deal with other men under Eleanor's roof, but when she was in his house, there would be no other man but him attending her.
She shot him a gaze much like the one North had pinned him with earlier. "Fanny Carson. She asked me to give you her regards."
If she had told him Christ Himself had come down from heaven to take tea with her, he could not have been more surprised. "Fanny? Came to see you?"
Eleanor nodded. "She said she wanted to see the woman whom you had been obsessed with for so many years."
Brahm's mouth went dry. Damn Fanny. The next time he saw her, he was going to throttle her. Hadn't she done enough damage with that frigging book of hers?
"That was nice of her." Lord, but that was the most stupid thing he had ever said while sober.
Eleanor actually chuckled, and Brahm's heart warmed at the sound. "Your expression looks very much as mine must have during her visit. She is not what I expected."
Brahm folded his arms behind his head, giving her an unabashed view of his upper body. He was not above exploiting her attraction to him to get what he wanted. "Were you disappointed?"
She tried not to look, but he could see her peeking from the corner of her eye. "I liked her better than I thought I would."
Ah, so jealousy reared its disfigured head. "Did you?"
"Yes. I can see how the two of you would have been friends."
She was comparing herself— negatively so— to Fanny Carson? Fanny had been a lot of fun, but she could never hold a candle to Eleanor. No one could. "We were friends, but I never thought of her as anything more than that."
She merely nodded, her lips compressed and silent, officially putting an end to the topic. Obviously she did not want to discuss Fanny anymore, which suited Brahm just fine.
"My brothers told me something that gave me cause for concern while they were here."
"Oh?" She straightened, apparently grateful for the change in topic.
"Apparently the gossips and scandalmongers are wagging their tongues about us."
She blushed— a very pretty pink. "Yes. I have heard similar accounts myself."
"You do not have to ruin your reputation because of a promise— especially one so foolish." He rolled to his side, embarrassed by how much effort it took. His arm actually trembled as he propped his head up with his hand. "I do not like to think that your association with me would harm you."
"I know that," she replied with a lift of her chin. "It's not just that promise. You were right— I feel some responsibility for your relapse. I know I didn't
have
to come. I could have sent you a note, as you so kindly pointed out."
Heat actually rushed to his cheeks. He had been a complete ass to her. "Yes."
"Or I could have paid a simple visit, I could have sent flowers. There are no doubt one hundred different ways I could have expressed my regret without staying here with you." Why did she sound as though she was becoming increasingly annoyed with him? "What does that tell you, Brahm?"
He flashed what he hoped was a charming grin. "That you are a martyr of the first order?" Honestly, he didn't want to answer her question, because he might voice a hope that had no chance of ever being true.
She shook her head with a sigh. "It should tell you that regret is not the reason I am here."
He stilled. "Then what is?"
Eleanor bowed her head, then raised it again, her face a perfectly sculpted mask, lacking emotion. "I thought you might have need of me."
That wasn't what she was initially going to say, but Brahm didn't care. Need of her? Need was only scratching the surface.
He picked at the coverlet, carefully mulling over his words before raising his gaze to hers. "I owe you an apology."
She was perplexed now. "For what?"
"For my remark earlier about your promise to marry me. I should not have said it."
"It was true."
Brahm would have shrugged were it not for the position he was in. "Perhaps, but it was said to hurt you, and for that I am sorry. I seem to be rather good at hurting you. I am sorry for that as well."
"We both seem to be rather adept at hurting each other." A sad smile curved her wonderful lips. "I am sorry for that as well."
He held her gaze with an earnest one, trying to will his sincerity into his eyes. "You really should not continue to stay here without a chaperone, Ellie."
"Bah." How easily she dismissed his concern, as though he had no idea what he was talking about. As if she didn't care. "If I'm ruined, then Papa will have no choice but to cease his efforts to marry me off."
Brahm smiled, but it felt tight on his face. "That was your evil plan all along, was it not?"
Her own attempt at a smile failed miserably. "You found me out."
"I am sorry I am not enough for you, Eleanor."
She went white. "Brahm— "
"Stop." He cut her off before she could try to explain, before she could say something stupid like the fault was with her and not him. He couldn't stand to listen to such rubbish again. And this theory of Wyn's had his palms sweating like a boy's. It might not have been begging exactly, but it felt like it. "You do not have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry— for everything."
She nodded, her face ravaged by some mixture of emotions he couldn't begin to fathom.
"I would like to rest now," he told her, not allowing her the chance to respond. He didn't want her to respond.
Another nod. "I will leave you then."
Yes. She would leave him. That was exactly what he thought she might do.
Chapter 18
W
as he completely senseless, or simply playing with her?
As she dressed for dinner, Eleanor pondered the question for what must be the— she had lost count— hundredth time that week.
Brahm had to recognize by now that she stayed with him because she realized what an awful mistake she had made— she had as good as told him such. But didn't he also realize how much more there was to it? He had to know she risked her reputation for more than an apology. Did he not understand that she cared for him? She wanted him to renew his addresses. She wanted to marry him. She wanted him to touch her the way he had before, but he hadn't so much as held her hand.
Most of all, she wanted him to love her, because she could finally admit that she was desperately in love with him. In truth, she suspected she had loved him for years. At the very least she knew that the emotion had reawakened while he was at her father's house. His leaving had made her feel as though she had lost a part of herself.
Only since coming to London had she come to know just how much she adored and loved him. She had been so worried when she first found him, terrified of losing him. Now that he was better, she thanked God for it every day.
She watched with a pleased eye as her maid put the last pin in her hair. It was an elaborate coiffure of glistening curls, bouncing tendrils, and so many pins that Eleanor's scalp tingled all over. It would be worth it if it made Brahm look at her in appreciation. She even wore that strawberry scent he seemed to like so much.
His opinion was all that mattered. All her life she had been taught to live within society's dictates, and she had thrown all of that to the wind for Brahm. She had read a book no single lady should see. She had engaged in an illicit affair with a man under her father's roof. She had cast caution aside and followed that same man to London, placing herself in his house without a decent chaperone, inviting rumor and speculation. Surprisingly, she cared not for what society might think of her. And for once in her life, she didn't care about her family either. If they suffered for her actions it would be awful and wrong, but the most important thing to Eleanor right now was convincing Brahm that they were meant to be together.
