Free Still in My Heart by Kathryn Smith Page A

term. It was an awful thing, being notorious. It gave people all kinds of strange thoughts as to one's character. Oddly enough, it seemed to give rise to the notion that he was some kind of exotic creature, rare and exciting. If they only knew just how utterly boring he was.
     
     
It also gave people the sense that they could ask whatever they pleased, tossing propriety to the wind.
     
     
"Is it true that you killed a man, Lord Creed?"
     
     
Brahm's heart stopped dead. For one split second he thought the man referred to his father. Rationally Brahm knew that he could not have prevented his father's death. If it hadn't happened that night while they were thoroughly foxed and wild, it would have happened some other night. Still, a voice persisted that surely he could have done something to prevent the accident.
     
     
"I beg your pardon?" The man asking was one of the bachelors invited to vie for Eleanor's hand— a dandyish sort whose name escaped Brahm. If the fool was trying to irk him, then Brahm wanted to force him into explaining himself. Explanations were so very wonderful for making people look as foolish as they deserved.
     
     
But the fop didn't look chastised at all. "I heard that you killed a dastardly criminal in defense of your brother. Is it true?"
     
     
Oh that . Yes, that was true. He had shot a man who threatened his brother North. "I believe the gossips to have greatly exaggerated my part in that intrigue." He could have boasted of his involvement, but his brothers were more deserving of a hero's laurels than he. He never aspired to such acclaim. Besides, all he had done was rid the world of one vermin. Aside from preventing any harm from befalling North, he hadn't done anything more special than killing a rat.
     
     
He was saved from any further questions by a footman offering refreshment. "Champagne, my lord?"
     
     
Brahm shook his head. "Thank you, no." It was easy enough to resist. He'd never cared much for champagne.
     
     
"Perhaps you would prefer something stronger?" the dandy suggested, craning his neck to glance toward a sideboard near the back wall. "I've a mind for a whiskey. What say you?"
     
     
At the mere mention of the word, Brahm's mouth seemed to leap to life. He could almost taste the bitter smoothness on his tongue, the gentle burn as the whiskey slid down his throat. He could smell it, could feel the tension draining from his muscles as the liquor worked its potent magic.
     
     
Christ yes, he would prefer something stronger.
     
     
A tiny trace of moisture beaded along his hairline. He could do this. He was stronger than the craving.
     
     
"No," he said, sharper and louder than he intended. Many of the guests turned to see what had caused his outburst. "Thank you."
     
     
The fop obviously did not know when to stop. "Bourbon then?"
     
     
Brahm gritted his teeth. Bourbon would be delicious. "I appreciate the offer but I no longer imbibe."
     
     
It seemed that the second he finished speaking, the entire room fell silent. Gazes fell upon him like blossoms shaken from a tree. Some were surprised, some were pleased, and some were disbelieving. A few even voiced their support of the decision, congratulating him as though he had achieved some great feat.
     
     
He didn't care what the other guests thought of him, however. He didn't care what Eleanor's sisters thought. Praise was always appreciated, even if it was unwanted and unnecessary, but it wasn't as though he based his own sense of self on it. He cared for the reaction of one person and one person alone. His gaze found her easily, watching him from a short distance away, a glass of champagne in her hand.
     
     
Eleanor's normally smooth brow was puckered as she gazed at him with an expression he couldn't quite decipher before she looked away. Did she believe him? Was she now entertaining the idea that he might have indeed changed?
     
     
Why her opinion mattered so much was a mystery. Why he craved her