Free Still in My Heart by Kathryn Smith

pain must be unbearable at times.
     
     
A self-conscious chuckle escaped him as he slowly pulled free of her hold. Reluctantly Eleanor let him go. If he fell, she didn't think she could catch him.
     
     
"We are in for rain, I believe," he remarked, taking a tentative step away from the table.
     
     
Eleanor raised a brow. So much for thanking her for her assistance. Had that much pride, did he? "You can predict the weather, can you?"
     
     
The grin he flashed her was meant to be careless, perhaps even roguish, but it was too uncertain to succeed. "Did you not know that about me?"
     
     
She could have walked away from him then, but she didn't. Instead she fell into step beside him, silently lending him whatever support she might offer until they reached the house. "I imagine there are a great many things I do not know about you."
     
     
"It is unfortunate that we never had the chance to rectify that."
     
     
She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the house rather than the man beside her. She had forgotten how tall he was. "Or fortunate, depending on how you look at it."
     
     
He was walking more easily now. "Yes, I suppose so."
     
     
Silence lingered until they were almost at the steps leading to the house. He stopped, and she didn't hesitate to come to a halt as well. Lifting her gaze to his, she waited for him to speak. How strangely calm she was now that he wasn't so close. She wasn't expecting the words that came so softly out of his mouth.
     
     
"I do not expect you to accept any apology I might make. I know I can never make right what happened, but I want you to know that I am truly sorry for any hurt I might have caused you. Injuring you was the last thing I wanted to do."
     
     
Was he jesting? He couldn't possibly be that dense, could he? "Surely you must have realized I would have been injured by…what you did."
     
     
His gaze was remorseful, but candid all the same. "I was beyond realization, Ellie, and far too foxed to separate reality from imagination."
     
     
It may not have been the prettiest of answers, but it certainly sounded honest. The familiar shortening of her name only added to her confusion.
     
     
"Reality from imagination?" She was certain she wanted the answer, as part of her already suspected what it would be, but she needed to hear it all the same.
     
     
His gaze was frank, without a hint of embarrassment. "Who was actually in my bed versus who I wanted it to be."
     
     
Eleanor flushed to the roots of her hair as she turned and began walking once more. Brahm followed silently, and Eleanor was glad he did not try to speak again. Her mind was already overwhelmed by what he had said to her that afternoon.
     
     
Did he mean for her to believe that he had pretended Lydia was she that night, or had he actually believed it to be so? Or was this confession simply scandalous words from a smooth-tongued devil who sought to toy with her affections once more?
     
     
And more importantly, which of the three did she wish was true?
     
    Chapter 4
B rahm wasn't about to allow Eleanor to resume ignoring him— not after his minor victory at luncheon.
     
     
It wasn't much to crow over, but he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze when he told her how drunk he had been the night he bedded her sister, and he saw the concern in her eyes when he almost stumbled because of his leg. Finally that damn injury had come in handy. Any embarrassment at having her see him weakened was a pittance when faced with the idea that she might actually soften toward him. He hadn't expected her to give him a chance quite so quickly, nor was he willing to give up said chance now that it had presented itself.
     
     
He had been seated too far away from her at dinner to talk to her, and now he was in the drawing room making small talk with those who would speak to him while he waited for the right time to approach her.
     
     
Perhaps "small talk" was not quite the right phrase. "Interrogation" might be a better