"Again! Good Lord, woman. It will not be happening tonight."
She sagged against him. "Oh, thank God."
They laughed together, a sound that made her heart sing.
Warm fingers traced circles on her back, stroked the curve of her hip. "You were not really going to leave me, were you?"
She yawned. "I did not want to, but I would have, had you forced my hand."
"Whose idea was it, Blythe's or Octavia's?"
"I thought of it on my own," she replied honestly, and not without a little pride. "Although I do believe it was Octavia who pointed me in the right direction."
He chuckled. "I knew it. How North lives with that woman I will never know."
The answer was simple enough, and Brahm knew it as surely as she did, but she said it anyway. "He loves her and she loves him."
The fingers clasped around her hip squeezed gently.
"You never answered my question," she reminded him.
"Yes," he murmured, tightening his arms around her. His words caused her heart to leap with joy. "Yes, my love. I will marry you."
Happily ever after
He was drunk.
Not on alcohol, but on happiness— if such a thing were possible. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and all was good and right with the world.
It was the perfect day for a wedding.
Creed House was already bustling with activity when Brahm's family arrived that morning. He was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and enjoying a large breakfast.
"How can you eat?" Wynthrope demanded, gesturing at the heaping plate. "You are getting married in a few hours!"
Moira smiled at her husband. Her face was blessed with that radiance that only woman in the first flush of pregnancy seemed to possess. "Just because you could not eat anything the morning we were married does not mean all men are like that."
"I can always eat," Devlin remarked, offering Aidan to Brahm so he could pick off his brother's plate. "Bacon, Moira?"
"Oh yes!" Moira had an appetite that could rival even Devlin's at the best of times. She was even more ravenous pregnant. Many women lost their appetite in the first few months, but not Moira. Secretly Brahm though Wynthrope liked watching his wife grow fat with child. He watched her eat with a smile that only a man who appreciated soft women could achieve.
"Save some for me," Octavia chimed in, easing herself into a chair at the table. She was very pregnant now— so pregnant that Brahm had his doubts as to whether his new niece or nephew would wait until after the ceremony to arrive. There would be hell to pay if the child arrived before Eleanor said, "I do." They had waited so long and gone through so much to get to this day, nothing was going to prevent it from happening.
Brahm pushed his plate toward his sister-in-law with the arm that didn't have a baby in it. "Help yourself."
North, who was standing back from the scene, merely grinned at his wife's gluttony. It must be a family trait to like women with ferocious appetites. Lord knew he did.
"Here," Brahm said to him, offering him Aidan. "You need more practice at this than I do." He didn't add that he hated seeing North standing back as though he wasn't part of the family. He was as much a Ryland as Brahm was, and North was as dear to him as either Devlin or Wynthrope— perhaps even more than Wynthrope.
North took the infant without fuss. "I give you four months tops, and then you will be on your way to joining the rest of us in fatherhood."
Brahm only smiled. Now was not the time to tell them that it would be less than four months. Eleanor's monthlies had not arrived when they should have. She said it was just because of the excitement of the wedding, but in his gut, Brahm knew the truth. She was already carrying his child— who would be publicly declared premature when he— or she— arrived.
He was going to be a father. Eleanor would be a mother. It seemed they had already raised two families, but caring for their siblings was nothing compared to what lay ahead of them. A child. An heir. A little person that would be half him, half Eleanor. Could there be anything more amazing?
Whoever would have thought that he would actually marry and become a father? Certainly not him. He had gone to Burrough's estate hoping to win Eleanor's forgiveness, not allowing himself to totally hope that he might win her heart. If only he had been patient with her then instead of running off as he had, things might have turned out so much smoother for the two of them.
But he was done living his life on might-have-beens, should-haves, and could-haves. It was a fresh start for both of them. It would not be easy to change those things within themselves that made him and Eleanor doubtful and fearful, but together they could overcome any obstacle.
"It is time to go," he told them, consulting his watch. Eleanor and her sisters would be at the church by now.
It had been hell allowing her to stay with Arabella the last few days, but they had to salvage what propriety they could. Of course, their engagement negated much of the damage done by her staying with him unchaperoned. There would always be those who whispered about them behind their hands, but as Viscount and Viscountess Creed, they would still find doors open to them, no matter what. Brahm was fortunate in his choice of friends, as was the rest of his family. He and Eleanor would have a social circle if they wished it. And being infamous had the advantage of affording one real friends without the bother of superficial acquaintances.
They took three carriages to the church as Brahm's would be needed afterward for him and Eleanor. Moira took bacon wrapped in a napkin with her for the ride. Wynthrope fed it to her with a grin as Brahm watched, shaking his head with a joy that would not let him rest.
He might not always like or agree with Wynthrope, but there was no denying that his brother was a good husband and would be a good father. In time, Brahm thought, he might even call Wynthrope a good friend.
The church was far from full— only family and close friends had been invited. Rumor had it that there were those who wouldn't have come even if they had been asked. Of course, rumor also had it that there were many among the
ton
who wished they could be present. Some said he was only marrying her because he had ruined her. Others were already counting the days till the first child was born, eager to see if it would be before nine months was up. That would be the next scandal.
But Brahm never had paid much mind to the gossips. Other than his brothers, there was only one person whose opinion mattered that deeply to him, and she was standing beside him, holding his hand and smiling as the vicar droned his way through the ceremony.
She was beautiful— the most beautiful bride ever— in an ivory gown and veil. Her flowers were white and pink roses— her favorites. She stood next to him, her gaze locked to his, her smile rivaling the sun for its brightness.
She had asked her sisters to attend her, and all but Lydia had agreed. In fact, Lydia had refused to come to the wedding at all. Brahm couldn't say she was missed, but he knew Eleanor felt her sister's rejection. Perhaps in time, that too would fade. Perhaps Eleanor and Lydia would be able to be friends again.
The vicar pronounced them husband and wife, and Brahm kissed his bride in front of God and their family and friends. Holding Eleanor tightly by the hand, he led her from the church, through the throng of well-wishers cheering them on.
They climbed into their carriage and waved as they pulled away, toward Creed House where the wedding breakfast would be served— much to Moira and Devlin's pleasure.
Eleanor squeezed his hand. "Happy, Lord Creed?"
He squeezed back. "Very, Lady Creed."
She leaned closer, pressing her lips to his as the open carriage rolled through Mayfair. People passing by no doubt stared at them, but neither Brahm nor Eleanor cared. Pulling her onto his lap, Brahm held his wife tight against him, kissing her for all of London to watch if they so desired.
When he got her home to Creed House, he pulled her into one of the smaller, unused rooms on the first floor. Laughing, she lifted her skirts while he dropped his trousers. They made love against the wall. It was awkward and Brahm's leg made it all the more precarious, and afterward, as they went to join their guests, his limp was even more pronounced, but it was one of the best moments of his life because it was the first time he made love to Eleanor as her husband. He finally had everything he had ever wanted enough to fight for.
It had been a struggle, but he had made certain his brothers were happy. He had made amends to them for mistakes of his past. He had gone after Eleanor and won her heart, fulfilling the dream he had harbored for so very long. He loved her and she loved him, and together they could face anything.
Their courtship might not have been the stuff of fairy tales, but they finally had their happy ending.
About the Author
KATHRYN SMITH
My husband says I have the best job in the world. The only thing that could top being paid to do what I love is if Avon Books decided that all their authors had to be hand-fed chocolate by Hugh Jackman, Gerard Butler, or John Cusack. But my husband probably wouldn't think so much of my job then, so instead I'll let him feed me chocolate and go on being forever thankful that I have the best job— and husband— in the world.
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
STILL IN MY HEART. Copyright © 2005 by Kathryn Smith. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Palm Reader February 2007 ISBN 978-0-06-136247-7
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