Read Online Still in My Heart by Kathryn Smith - Free Book Online Page A

read, but there was an unmistakable air of amusement in it, as though Lydia thought her horribly naive.
     
     
"Any woman he sets his sights on is in danger from him, Eleanor. He is just that kind of man."
     
     
Eleanor looked away, swallowing hard. Did Lydia consider herself in danger as well? And why should that idea put such a sour taste in Eleanor's mouth? She didn't agree with dishonoring one's wedding vows, but a woman had a right to seize whatever happiness she could in this world dominated by men. Who was she to judge anyone's actions? Who was she to say she would not do the same in such a situation?
     
     
Or was she simply jealous because her younger sister had experienced what should have by rights been hers?
     
     
"I will take that under consideration." She kept her tone deliberately bland. "I believe Muriel is trying to capture your attention, dear."
     
     
Lydia sighed. "No doubt she wants me to rescue her from Lady Edwards. Excuse me."
     
     
In truth Eleanor was glad to see the back of her sister, even if her departure left her alone once more. How she wanted this luncheon over so she could escape to her room for some peace.
     
     
Feeling a gaze upon her, she looked up to find herself staring into Brahm's eyes. Even from a distance his gaze affected her, making her heart jump in response. Had he seen her talking to Lydia? Did he wonder if perhaps they had been discussing him? Did he care?
     
     
Eleanor jerked her gaze away. It was foolish, but she didn't want to risk his reading anything in her eyes, and she didn't want him to think that she wanted anything to do with him, because she didn't.
     
     
The butler rang the bell that the meal was about to be served, signaling that guests not yet seated should do so. Luncheon was to be an informal affair, with several smaller tables rather than one large one set out underneath the canopy. Snow white lacy tablecloths swayed in the breeze, their tops decorated with simple displays of brightly colored flowers and glittering silverware. All had been done under Eleanor's supervision, and she took pride in seeing how lovely everything looked.
     
     
Her father joined her at the table, along with Arabella and her husband, Henry; one of her father's chosen bachelors; a respected society matron; and an older couple who were old friends of her father's. The chair next to Eleanor was empty until Brahm claimed it for himself.
     
     
How dare he! Eleanor's face flamed with indignation, but she fought to keep her reaction from showing. Other guests were watching their table with open interest, and she wasn't about to give them something to talk about over their pheasant and salmon.
     
     
Her father saved her from having to react at all.
     
     
"Creed, good of you to join us, boy!" he boomed, his voice stronger than Eleanor had heard it in weeks. "I trust you know everyone?"
     
     
Grinding her teeth, Eleanor snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye as Brahm nodded. "Thank you, Lord Burrough. I bid you all a good day."
     
     
Everyone greeted him cordially save for the other bachelor— a Lord Taylor. Taylor was decidedly cool toward Brahm, and Eleanor sighed inside. Wonderful, she was going to be treated as a bone held above hungry dogs— a prize and nothing more.
     
     
Or perhaps Lord Taylor was simply being rude. Regardless, it didn't flatter him. Of course, if the poor man had been cordial, that wouldn't have painted him in a better light either.
     
     
Leaning to his right, Brahm slipped his cane between their chairs, letting it fall onto the grass. The movement brought his shoulder against hers, his sandalwood-scented hair dangerously close to brushing her face. Even as she froze, trying to shrink in her chair so as not to touch him, Eleanor inhaled a deep breath, drawing him into her lungs. Was she so starved for male companionship that she would react so basely to any man, or was Brahm Ryland special?
     
     
Please, God, let it be that I am