not dishonorable."
Brahm wasn't so sure of that, but he didn't have the inclination to argue if the old man wanted to believe it.
"If it is worth anything, I haven't had a drink in almost two years." Those months following his accident had been difficult and laudanum had proved to have its own appeal, but Brahm refused to hide in a stupor for the rest of his life, not when he had been given a fresh start. Now he was able to take laudanum for his leg and not worry that he might end up in one of the Oriental dens with a pipe in his hand.
The earl nodded. "It is worth a lot. Your father had similar demons, but that did not mean he wasn't a good man at heart. I have a strong suspicion that you are a good man as well."
Brahm swallowed. He didn't know what to say.
"I do not know if Ellie can forgive you for what you did, boy, but I do know this: if Eleanor does not make her peace with you, if she does not get what happened between the two of you out of her head, then she will never be able to find happiness, and above all else I want my daughter to be happy."
Brahm wanted that too. The realization came as a bit of a surprise, but if he was responsible for Eleanor's unhappiness, then he wanted to fix it.
"The two of you will end up either married or hating each other," the earl predicted. "To be honest, I don't much care which one, so long as Eleanor is happy."
Fair enough. "Why did you wait so long to force this confrontation?" So many years had passed. If the old man had been so concerned with Eleanor's well-being, why hadn't he done something long before this?
Burrough smiled, but there was more compassion in it than humor. "I had to wait till you sobered up."
* * *
True to his dictate, Eleanor's father refused to fling Brahm Ryland from their house. True to her own word, Eleanor gave Brahm little chance to prove his so-called change to her. She avoided him as often as possible over the course of the next two days. It wasn't easy. As hostess she was expected to chat with all the guests during meals and other activities. Somehow, though, she managed to make certain that Brahm wasn't one of those guests she spoke to.
Now as she sat underneath an airy canopy on the back lawn of her father's estate, waiting for lunch to be served alfresco, she began to wonder if perhaps her snub hadn't begun to work to her advantage. All but a few of the guests had already come outside for the meal, and Brahm Ryland was not among them. Perhaps he had decided to take refreshment in his chamber. Or perhaps he had finally come to his senses and decided to depart from the party.
Hmpf. That was unlikely. She ignored the disappointment that came with the thought of his leaving. Why would he leave when so many others seemed pleased by his company? Many of the guests treated him like some kind of delightful confection. His disgustingly scandalous past had made him something of a legend, it seemed, and that made him popular. Add that to the fact that there were several respected society matrons who went out of their way to support him, and the Viscount Creed was well on his way to being society's darling once more.
But his popularity aside, why would he leave when he knew his being there was bound to drive her to distraction? He took enjoyment from her discomfort, of that she was certain. And he had to know she was uncomfortable— even if their initial meeting hadn't gone as it had, her avoidance of him was a clear indication of what she thought of him.
No. Brahm Ryland had a reason to remain under her father's roof. What that reason was, Eleanor didn't know, and she wasn't particularly certain that she cared to, either.
Yet there was a part of her— that same part that made sure she wore a most flattering gown in a becoming shade of blue— that wanted to see him and have him see her. She wanted him to notice that she was in her best
Brahm wasn't so sure of that, but he didn't have the inclination to argue if the old man wanted to believe it.
"If it is worth anything, I haven't had a drink in almost two years." Those months following his accident had been difficult and laudanum had proved to have its own appeal, but Brahm refused to hide in a stupor for the rest of his life, not when he had been given a fresh start. Now he was able to take laudanum for his leg and not worry that he might end up in one of the Oriental dens with a pipe in his hand.
The earl nodded. "It is worth a lot. Your father had similar demons, but that did not mean he wasn't a good man at heart. I have a strong suspicion that you are a good man as well."
Brahm swallowed. He didn't know what to say.
"I do not know if Ellie can forgive you for what you did, boy, but I do know this: if Eleanor does not make her peace with you, if she does not get what happened between the two of you out of her head, then she will never be able to find happiness, and above all else I want my daughter to be happy."
Brahm wanted that too. The realization came as a bit of a surprise, but if he was responsible for Eleanor's unhappiness, then he wanted to fix it.
"The two of you will end up either married or hating each other," the earl predicted. "To be honest, I don't much care which one, so long as Eleanor is happy."
Fair enough. "Why did you wait so long to force this confrontation?" So many years had passed. If the old man had been so concerned with Eleanor's well-being, why hadn't he done something long before this?
Burrough smiled, but there was more compassion in it than humor. "I had to wait till you sobered up."
* * *
True to his dictate, Eleanor's father refused to fling Brahm Ryland from their house. True to her own word, Eleanor gave Brahm little chance to prove his so-called change to her. She avoided him as often as possible over the course of the next two days. It wasn't easy. As hostess she was expected to chat with all the guests during meals and other activities. Somehow, though, she managed to make certain that Brahm wasn't one of those guests she spoke to.
Now as she sat underneath an airy canopy on the back lawn of her father's estate, waiting for lunch to be served alfresco, she began to wonder if perhaps her snub hadn't begun to work to her advantage. All but a few of the guests had already come outside for the meal, and Brahm Ryland was not among them. Perhaps he had decided to take refreshment in his chamber. Or perhaps he had finally come to his senses and decided to depart from the party.
Hmpf. That was unlikely. She ignored the disappointment that came with the thought of his leaving. Why would he leave when so many others seemed pleased by his company? Many of the guests treated him like some kind of delightful confection. His disgustingly scandalous past had made him something of a legend, it seemed, and that made him popular. Add that to the fact that there were several respected society matrons who went out of their way to support him, and the Viscount Creed was well on his way to being society's darling once more.
But his popularity aside, why would he leave when he knew his being there was bound to drive her to distraction? He took enjoyment from her discomfort, of that she was certain. And he had to know she was uncomfortable— even if their initial meeting hadn't gone as it had, her avoidance of him was a clear indication of what she thought of him.
No. Brahm Ryland had a reason to remain under her father's roof. What that reason was, Eleanor didn't know, and she wasn't particularly certain that she cared to, either.
Yet there was a part of her— that same part that made sure she wore a most flattering gown in a becoming shade of blue— that wanted to see him and have him see her. She wanted him to notice that she was in her best
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