Her orgasm sent Brahm over the edge. He arched his hips, his fingers biting into her thighs as ripple after ripple of intense pleasure shuddered through his body. He emptied himself within her, his body twitching as the shocks seemed to go on forever. Eleanor collapsed on top of him, and he slid his hands up around to cup her buttocks, holding her tight against him lest she try to leave.
He knew it was wrong of him to come inside her without a sheath. In all honesty, he hadn't even thought to bring one with him. The thought of bedding Eleanor had seemed too far-fetched for him to entertain. Oddly enough, the realization that a child could result from this night didn't bother him in the least. In fact, the idea of having a family of his own, of Eleanor being the mother of his children, filled him with an emotion he could not name, but he liked the feel of it all the same. He also knew that if Birch, Locke, or those other four even looked at Eleanor after this, he'd kill them without so much as a flinch. She was his, and would always be his.
It was sometime later before either of them could find the strength to speak. Pinned beneath the soft weight of her body, Brahm drew what blankets he could reach over them as their flesh began to cool, leaving them slightly damp and chill with lingering perspiration. Eleanor's head nestled between his jaw and shoulder, and he stroked the velvety surface of her hair. He would have to help her get those tangles out.
"Mmm." She stirred against him, her legs sliding down his. "I think I have a cramp in my backside. Is that possible?"
Brahm chuckled. It was her hip no doubt, aching from their exertions. He was reluctant to let her go, but he didn't want to cause her any more discomfort. Gently he caught her about the waist and rolled to his side, slipping from the heated confines of her body. He massaged her hip to ease the ache before climbing out of bed. They both needed to be washed after two sessions of lovemaking.
He brought the washbasin and a cloth to the bed and washed Eleanor first. She fussed over his attentions, but he rolled his eyes and bathed her anyway, wiping the residue of their lovemaking from between her thighs with gentle strokes. Then he washed himself and dropped the cloth in the water. The basin he set on the floor to tend to later.
"I have to go back to my room soon," she reminded him as he slid into bed and drew her into his arms once more.
"I know." He didn't want her to go, but it was inevitable. The alternative would result in others finding out about their tryst, and as much he wanted the world to know that Eleanor was his, he didn't want to make her the object of petty gossip.
"Can we do this again tomorrow night?"
The coy lightness of her tone made him chuckle. "On one condition."
Eleanor raised her gaze to his, smiling warmly. "Anything."
Brahm's smile faded as his heart reacted to her vow. "Marry me."
Chapter 12
M
arry him? Had she truly heard correctly? Her heart was pounding so loudly that she thought for a moment that she might have imagined his question.
"Did you just ask me to marry you?"
He nodded, a slight smile curving one corner of his mouth. "I did. Would you like me to ask again?"
Eleanor shook her head. "No, that will not be necessary." She stared at him. Marry him. He wanted them to spend the remainder of their lives together. He wanted her to have his children and help him raise them. Her plan had worked; she had seduced him into asking the very question she longed to hear. True, he had made no declaration of love, but it was almost as good. He would not have made love to her if he did not have some degree of emotion for her, and he wouldn't have proposed if that emotion didn't run to the true and lasting kind. There was more than just desire between them.
"Would you care to give me an answer?" His smile had waned. Surely he wasn't doubting himself?
She opened her mouth to do just that, but the answer was stolen by a sudden and awful thought.
"My family will not approve." That was putting it mildly. Until recently Arabella had been on her side and in a position to help her convince the other girls, but thanks to Lydia, Arabella didn't trust Brahm, and she wouldn't go out of her way to convince their sisters to trust him either.
"Hang your family." His scowl spoke volumes as to what he thought of her sisters' approval. "I want to marry you, not your sisters."
That might be acceptable were there not another member of her family to consider. "But my father— "
He cut her off. "Your father likes me."
That was true, and she was of an age when she did not necessarily need her father's permission to marry.
"He knows about my…mistake with Lydia."
Eleanor nodded. "I know."
Raising himself up on a elbow, Brahm propped his head up with his hand. "He told you?"
"Yes. You confessed to him, didn't you?" She would have thought a man like her father would kill Brahm for such an affront.
"Indeed." He smiled crookedly. "I do not believe he was particularly impressed, but he knows I was drunk, and that I regret it. All he wants is for you to be happy, and he seems to believe I am the one to make that happen."
So her father was fine with her marrying Brahm. Her sisters would accept him eventually, once they got to know him. Once they realized what a wonderful man he was.
"He said you were obsessed with me." He stroked her cheek with the pad of his index finger as he teased her. "That you had been obsessed for years."
Eleanor made a scoffing noise as she fought a smile. "Do not flatter yourself. He only told you that to play matchmaker."
"Hmm. He seemed to think that my acceptance of his invitation was indication that I returned your fascination. Perhaps he was mistaken in that regard as well."
Her gaze snapped to his. "You were fascinated by me?"
How she longed to stay in the warmth of his arms and bed, even though she knew time was against her. "I did not say that."
"Yes you did."
"I said your father suspected as much. I did not say it was true."
She grinned at him. "But here you are."
He grinned back. "Yes, and so are you."
As he lowered his head to hers, Eleanor's heart began to pound in anticipation of his kiss. This was too perfect, too wonderful for words. His lips were soft yet insistent, drawing a sigh of contented pleasure from her.
All too soon it was over, and he was lifting his head to gaze down at her once more. "So," he prompted, "will you marry me?
"Yes," she whispered, her throat tight as she said the word. "Yes, please."
He kissed her again, this time a long, leisurely kiss that robbed her of her breath as well as reason.
"I just ask one thing," she told him, when they were snuggled together once more.
"I've always thought that a rather ominous request coming from a woman," he joked. "What is it you wish?"
"I do not want anyone to know of our engagement until I've had a chance to tell my family. Will you agree to that?"
"Of course." His tone was hesitant, but it pleased her all the same. "Who would I tell?"
* * *
Eleanor crept from Brahm's room just before dawn. She was sated and a little sore from their lovemaking, and terribly reluctant to leave him, but elation caused her feet to practically dance all the way back to her own chamber.
She was finally going to be Lady Creed. She was going to leave her father's house and become mistress of her own.
Her father. The thought of him gave her pause as she tiptoed up the stairs to the family wing. She knew now that he had capitalized on his ill health to coax her into agreeing to this party in the first place, but that didn't change the fact that his health was not good. Who would look after him when she was gone? Perhaps she could talk him into coming to live with her and Brahm? He would dig in his heels at that suggestion. He hated feeling like a burden.
There was always the house in London. He was forever saying he wanted to spend more time there. She would feel so much better knowing he was close to Lydia and Phoebe, who kept London as their main residence. No doubt she and Brahm would spend a great deal of time there as well, and London had physicians and apothecaries galore in case Papa required medical attention. She would broach the subject with her father as soon as possible.
But first she had to announce her betrothal to her family. She would not wait as she had years ago. It wasn't that she expected anything awful to happen, but there was no harm in taking preventive measures. And, a little voice in her head whispered, she didn't want to give Brahm the chance to change his mind.
With these two decisions made, it was as though a huge weight had been lifted from her. By the time she made it safely back to her room without being seen, she was positively giddy from all the change taking place in her life. After more than a decade of standing still, she was dancing so fast, she was dizzy.
Yet despite this excitement— or perhaps because of it— she fell into bed and was asleep within minutes. By the time she awoke, it was nine o'clock— time for her to get up and meet with her family before all the guests were up and about.
She rang for her maid and the housekeeper. The two of them exchanged brief, curious glances when Eleanor asked Mrs. Blynn to deliver her summons to the rest of the family. Eleanor was not the least bit bothered by their behavior. Of course they were curious. They knew the true nature of this house party just as well as she did. They expected that she had finally found herself a husband. No doubt the entire staff would be speculating as to who it was within the hour. It was for that very reason that she intended to request Brahm's attendance on her own. Servants talked, and the last thing she wanted was her maid telling Lady Merrott's maid that Brahm looked to be Eleanor's choice of mate. She and Brahm would publicly announce their betrothal when they saw fit.
Within that same hour that the household staff was speculating as to Eleanor's choice, she and her father and her sisters and Brahm were in her mother's parlor, where they would be least likely to be set upon by guests or inquisitive servants trying to ferret out what information they could.
Per her request, her sisters came alone. This kind of announcement did not need to be made in front of their husbands— partly because Eleanor didn't like three out of four of them, and because there was a very good chance her sisters would react badly, and the fewer people who saw that, the better.
As they were all seated, their gazes hopped from Eleanor to Brahm and then to one another. The air in the room thickened with tension, tension that Eleanor thought best quickly dispelled because her nerves couldn't take any more of it. It was like a black cloud hanging over her happy news, and she was uncertain enough of what the future held for her and Brahm. Would she be enough woman for him? He was so experienced, what if she bored him? Would she truly be able to help him if he fell to temptation and drank? These things that she had been so certain of when she wanted him to propose made her very anxious now that he had.
"I will not keep you for long, I know we all have personal duties to attend to because of the party."
"I should much prefer to listen to anything you have to say rather than gossip," Arabella informed her with a smile. Her gaze was anxious, however, as it drifted toward Brahm.
Eleanor returned the smile with a bright one of her own. She kept her attention focused on her father, the one person whom she knew would be delighted for her. "Lord Creed has asked me to marry him and I have accepted."
Her father beamed. Her sisters exchanged startled glances. Lydia especially looked less than enthusiastic about the news. They wanted to voice their opposition, but wouldn't. They were too well mannered to make such an outburst in front of Brahm— although Eleanor expected they'd have overcome their manners had Papa not been present.
"Excellent news!" her father boomed as he rose from his chair. His rugged face creased with a grin and he came to Eleanor with his arms outstretched. Eleanor went eagerly to his embrace, laughing at his happiness and her own.
"I am very pleased that the two of you worked things out," he murmured against her ear before releasing her. He went to Brahm next, catching the younger man's hand in his own fierce grip.
Eleanor turned to her sisters. Their downcast faces annoyed her. "Are my sisters not going to congratulate me?" It was the same tone she had used with them as children when she wanted them to know that she was on the verge of being terribly disappointed in them— not to mention angry. It worked as well now as it had back then.
Arabella came forward first. She always had and always would be the first to acknowledge that Eleanor knew what she was doing. Eleanor's younger sister might be fearful of Brahm and his motives, but she would support Eleanor no matter what.
Arabella hugged her. "I
am
