Free Still in My Heart by Kathryn Smith Page B

forgiveness so badly he couldn't fathom. He didn't care if anyone else in this room believed that he was a changed man; only Eleanor's belief in him signified.
     
     
The dandy— Lord Faulkner was his name, now he remembered— was not to be satisfied. He gave a low chuckle, as though he thought Brahm had just told an amusing joke.
     
     
"Surely you can have one drink," he insisted. "One glass of bourbon never hurt anyone."
     
     
It was harmful enough to the man who had never been able to stop at just one.
     
     
Brahm shook his head. The stares were starting to weigh on him. "I cannot."
     
     
It was humiliating, admitting that he dared not have even one glass. Here he sat, among these people, many who knew just what a bastard he could be when deep in his cups, admitting that he was not strong enough to resist temptation. It was debasing to have so many see his weakness.
     
     
"Port then," Faulkner continued. "You must have something."
     
     
It sounded as if Faulkner was fishing for a drinking partner— someone to get foxed with so he wouldn't be the only one drinking to excess. What a sad situation the dandy had gotten himself into. It would be so easy for Brahm to despise Faulkner for having placed him in this uncomfortable position, but he could not find anything but pity in his heart. He knew all too well the hold liquor could have on a man. The cravings ran deep, like the roots of an ancient oak, twisting around heart, soul, and mind until the sweet bliss of drunken oblivion blotted out all else. He would not risk becoming his former self just to save face with a fop too young and foolish to realize how deep a hole he was digging.
     
     
"Perhaps sherry if nothing else."
     
     
Faulkner would not give up. Just when Brahm thought he was going to have to take a firmer stance with the younger man, rescue came from the most unlikely of sources. The footman was gone, replaced by an angelic vision in a soft cream evening gown shot with shimmery golden threads. She offered him a delicate china cup on a saucer.
     
     
"Have some coffee, Lord Creed," Eleanor urged in a soft but determined tone. "I remember that you always did have a preference for it. You take it black with sugar, correct?"
     
     
Stunned, Brahm could manage little but a nod as he accepted the offered drink. What was she doing? Not only had she come to his rescue, but she had alluded to their past connection as well. Why would she come to his aid when he had betrayed her in such a deplorable manner? If nothing else, she should have been standing back enjoying his discomfort, not trying to assuage it by drawing attention to herself.
     
     
Finally composure returned. "Thank you, Lady Eleanor. You flatter me with your keen memory for such trivial details." Black with sugar indeed. It had been his standard remedy for a night of debauchery. The debauching he had given up, but the way he took his coffee remained.
     
     
"You are quite welcome." Her smile wasn't kind but it was sympathetic, and it gnawed at Brahm's gut. "There is a pot on the sideboard, should you care for more."
     
     
And then she turned her back on him and walked away as though nothing had happened. Had he imagined her swooping down to rescue him? Had it been a rescue at all? Or had it been Eleanor's subtle way of getting in her own dig at him? Whatever it was, he was pathetically grateful for it. Faulkner was off collecting his glass of bourbon, and Brahm was certain the young lord would not request he join him in drink again.
     
     
Lifting the cup to his lips, he took a sip, almost sighing in pleasure as the rich blend hit his tongue. It wasn't whiskey but it would do.
     
     
Conversation dwindled as the evening's entertainment began. There was to be music first, followed by a light supper and bit of cards before retiring. He would stay for the music as it would be rude not to, and he might even stay for the supper, depending on the demands of his stomach, but he would