a laugh at his expense.
He was told to enter on the first knock, and he was all too glad to step inside. No matter what the old earl did to him, it was preferable to dealing with his lustful daughter.
The room was dark as he stepped inside, the light much dimmer than it had been in the corridor. A lamp burned on the table beside the bed where Lord Burrough reclined, a book beside his hip. He looked older than Brahm remembered, and tired, but other than that, he seemed surprisingly hale for a man reported to be in the twilight of his life.
Perhaps the gossips had exaggerated the earl's frailty.
"Well, if it isn't the Viscount Creed." His voice was strong as well. "Come in, boy, and let me have a look at you."
It never occurred to Brahm to disobey. He walked across the dark carpet until his shins were just inches from the earl's bed. The older man gazed up at him with pale eyes. "It's not polite to tower over me like that, young man. Sit."
There was a chair behind him, and Brahm pulled it up to the bed so he could sit, positioning himself so that his leg was stretched out at a comfortable angle. "It is good to see you again, my lord."
Burrough made a scoffing noise. "Don't 'my lord' me. I have known you all your life. Call me Burr, it's what your father used to call me."
Brahm nodded. "Very well." If a former friendship with Brahm's father was to thank for this warm welcome, Brahm wasn't going to fight it.
The old man smiled and leaned back against his pillows. "I suppose you're wondering why I invited you here after what happened last time."
There was nothing like getting straight to the heart of the matter; Brahm appreciated that. "The question has crossed my mind."
Burrough guffawed, as if he knew just what an understatement that was, but his expression quickly grew thoughtful. "I invited you here because of Eleanor."
Brahm's heart gave a little leap at the mention of her. Had she told her father what happened?
"I do not know what happened between the two of you back then"— that answered that question— "but I do know that my daughter has never been the same since her disappointment."
Disappointment. That was an interesting way to put it. "And so you invited me here to do what exactly?"
"You have been an obsession with my daughter for years, and since you responded to my invitation, I can only assume that you share her affliction. I want you and Ellie to do whatever it is you need to do to set things right between you. I want her to get on with her life."
Brahm laughed and shook his head. "I do not think that is possible."
"Why?"
"Because Lady Eleanor does not want to set things right between us." Had she really been as obsessed with him as he was with her? That was a long time to carry so much hatred.
Burrough's eyes narrowed, but Brahm didn't feel threatened. "What did you do to my daughter, boy?"
Rubbing his hand over his face, Brahm sighed in resignation and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the black wool of his trousers. He forced himself to meet the older man's gaze. "Eleanor refused my offer of marriage because she caught me…in a very compromising situation with another woman."
The earl didn't even blink. "Lydia."
Damnation. Brahm's jaw dropped in a blatant display of surprise that was unlike anything he had experienced for quite some time. "How did you know?"
Burrough sighed. "Lydia married young, to a man I knew was no match for her, but she would not be dissuaded. It did not take long for her to start looking outside her marriage for a little joy."
If the old man wanted to call his daughter's affairs "joy," then Brahm wasn't going to correct him. "It is no excuse, but I was foxed. I do not remember it."
"I believe you." The old man's smile was kind, sympathetic even. "You were a hopeless drunk, but you were
He was told to enter on the first knock, and he was all too glad to step inside. No matter what the old earl did to him, it was preferable to dealing with his lustful daughter.
The room was dark as he stepped inside, the light much dimmer than it had been in the corridor. A lamp burned on the table beside the bed where Lord Burrough reclined, a book beside his hip. He looked older than Brahm remembered, and tired, but other than that, he seemed surprisingly hale for a man reported to be in the twilight of his life.
Perhaps the gossips had exaggerated the earl's frailty.
"Well, if it isn't the Viscount Creed." His voice was strong as well. "Come in, boy, and let me have a look at you."
It never occurred to Brahm to disobey. He walked across the dark carpet until his shins were just inches from the earl's bed. The older man gazed up at him with pale eyes. "It's not polite to tower over me like that, young man. Sit."
There was a chair behind him, and Brahm pulled it up to the bed so he could sit, positioning himself so that his leg was stretched out at a comfortable angle. "It is good to see you again, my lord."
Burrough made a scoffing noise. "Don't 'my lord' me. I have known you all your life. Call me Burr, it's what your father used to call me."
Brahm nodded. "Very well." If a former friendship with Brahm's father was to thank for this warm welcome, Brahm wasn't going to fight it.
The old man smiled and leaned back against his pillows. "I suppose you're wondering why I invited you here after what happened last time."
There was nothing like getting straight to the heart of the matter; Brahm appreciated that. "The question has crossed my mind."
Burrough guffawed, as if he knew just what an understatement that was, but his expression quickly grew thoughtful. "I invited you here because of Eleanor."
Brahm's heart gave a little leap at the mention of her. Had she told her father what happened?
"I do not know what happened between the two of you back then"— that answered that question— "but I do know that my daughter has never been the same since her disappointment."
Disappointment. That was an interesting way to put it. "And so you invited me here to do what exactly?"
"You have been an obsession with my daughter for years, and since you responded to my invitation, I can only assume that you share her affliction. I want you and Ellie to do whatever it is you need to do to set things right between you. I want her to get on with her life."
Brahm laughed and shook his head. "I do not think that is possible."
"Why?"
"Because Lady Eleanor does not want to set things right between us." Had she really been as obsessed with him as he was with her? That was a long time to carry so much hatred.
Burrough's eyes narrowed, but Brahm didn't feel threatened. "What did you do to my daughter, boy?"
Rubbing his hand over his face, Brahm sighed in resignation and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the black wool of his trousers. He forced himself to meet the older man's gaze. "Eleanor refused my offer of marriage because she caught me…in a very compromising situation with another woman."
The earl didn't even blink. "Lydia."
Damnation. Brahm's jaw dropped in a blatant display of surprise that was unlike anything he had experienced for quite some time. "How did you know?"
Burrough sighed. "Lydia married young, to a man I knew was no match for her, but she would not be dissuaded. It did not take long for her to start looking outside her marriage for a little joy."
If the old man wanted to call his daughter's affairs "joy," then Brahm wasn't going to correct him. "It is no excuse, but I was foxed. I do not remember it."
"I believe you." The old man's smile was kind, sympathetic even. "You were a hopeless drunk, but you were
Similar Books
