lingering gaze at Eleanor herself. "Unless you would prefer I not read it?"
Eleanor stared at the woman. Was she genuinely concerned, or merely trying to stir up gossip? It was obvious Lady Dumont was so eager to read about Brahm that she could scarcely contain herself.
And truth be told, part of Eleanor wanted to hear it. The other night Brahm had told her that he wasn't a libertine. What was he then? If he had affairs with notorious courtesans, then he was far from chaste. She wanted to hear what Fanny Carson had to say about his prowess as a lover. If it was bad, then perhaps she'd stop thinking about those few kisses they had shared a million and a half years ago. Maybe she'd stop wishing he'd kiss her again just so she might experience that same heart-pounding excitement once more.
Part of her wanted him to be a rotten lover so she would stop wondering. Another part of her wanted to hear that he was everything she thought he was and more.
And if she told Lady Dumont she didn't want to hear it, then she would be admitting that she was bothered by it, and she'd rather jump off the roof than admit anything of the sort to this woman— or any of the rest of them.
"By all means," she replied with a slight smile. "I am as intrigued as everyone else."
Was that disappointment on Lady Dumont's pretty face? Good.
It seemed to take forever for Lady Dumont to find the page, but find it she did, and as she began reading, Eleanor's mouth became increasingly dry— not even tea could soothe it. Her throat tightened, her blood burned, and yet she sat as still and expressionless as she was capable of.
Fanny Carson praised Brahm for being a generous benefactor, for having a love of life and a quick wit. She also remarked on his ability as a dancer and a horseman, which indicated that their affair had begun prior to Brahm's accident. How much prior? Was he sleeping with her while he courted Eleanor? Or had he run to the courtesan after Eleanor rejected him? Or worse yet, did his going to Fanny Carson have nothing to do with Eleanor at all? Perhaps he had forgotten all about her at that time.
Fanny Carson also mentioned Brahm's predilection for strong spirits. It seemed that the "lady" shared his enthusiasm and they often drank together. No doubt that had been part of the attraction.
"'As a lover,'" Lady Dumont read, "'Brahm Ryland will forever be remembered by the author as a man without equal.'"
Several oohs and ahs heightened the fire in Eleanor's veins. A man without equal . Good God, what kind of man did a courtesan consider without equal as a lover? Certainly not a man who claimed not to be libertine.
Lady Dumont continued, "'Always considerate, Brahm would often spend hours at a time tending to my pleasure without a thought to his own. He knew exactly how to reduce me to a heap of boneless flesh, sated and replete with sensual satisfaction. He is a virtuoso, and his instrument is a woman's form.'"
The band around Eleanor's throat tightened. Had she actually heard a sigh behind her?
"'Not until he was certain I could take no more would he take his own fulfillment. Stretched and filled by his massive maleness, I thanked God that Eve tempted Adam, for being bedded by Brahm Ryland is paradise itself.'"
Lady Dumont looked up from pages and made a great show of fanning herself with her hand as titters echoed around the room. "Dear me. Such praise for Lord Creed." Her smile turned deviously coy. "I wonder if any one of us can testify to the validity of Mrs. Carson's claims?"
There were murmurs around the room, even a few giggles, but if there was one among them who had taken Brahm to her bed, she wasn't speaking. If Lydia spoke, Eleanor would personally wring her neck later.
Her sister kept her mouth shut, unlike Lady Dumont, who opened hers to read more. She was cut off, however, by Arabella, who mercifully
Eleanor stared at the woman. Was she genuinely concerned, or merely trying to stir up gossip? It was obvious Lady Dumont was so eager to read about Brahm that she could scarcely contain herself.
And truth be told, part of Eleanor wanted to hear it. The other night Brahm had told her that he wasn't a libertine. What was he then? If he had affairs with notorious courtesans, then he was far from chaste. She wanted to hear what Fanny Carson had to say about his prowess as a lover. If it was bad, then perhaps she'd stop thinking about those few kisses they had shared a million and a half years ago. Maybe she'd stop wishing he'd kiss her again just so she might experience that same heart-pounding excitement once more.
Part of her wanted him to be a rotten lover so she would stop wondering. Another part of her wanted to hear that he was everything she thought he was and more.
And if she told Lady Dumont she didn't want to hear it, then she would be admitting that she was bothered by it, and she'd rather jump off the roof than admit anything of the sort to this woman— or any of the rest of them.
"By all means," she replied with a slight smile. "I am as intrigued as everyone else."
Was that disappointment on Lady Dumont's pretty face? Good.
It seemed to take forever for Lady Dumont to find the page, but find it she did, and as she began reading, Eleanor's mouth became increasingly dry— not even tea could soothe it. Her throat tightened, her blood burned, and yet she sat as still and expressionless as she was capable of.
Fanny Carson praised Brahm for being a generous benefactor, for having a love of life and a quick wit. She also remarked on his ability as a dancer and a horseman, which indicated that their affair had begun prior to Brahm's accident. How much prior? Was he sleeping with her while he courted Eleanor? Or had he run to the courtesan after Eleanor rejected him? Or worse yet, did his going to Fanny Carson have nothing to do with Eleanor at all? Perhaps he had forgotten all about her at that time.
Fanny Carson also mentioned Brahm's predilection for strong spirits. It seemed that the "lady" shared his enthusiasm and they often drank together. No doubt that had been part of the attraction.
"'As a lover,'" Lady Dumont read, "'Brahm Ryland will forever be remembered by the author as a man without equal.'"
Several oohs and ahs heightened the fire in Eleanor's veins. A man without equal . Good God, what kind of man did a courtesan consider without equal as a lover? Certainly not a man who claimed not to be libertine.
Lady Dumont continued, "'Always considerate, Brahm would often spend hours at a time tending to my pleasure without a thought to his own. He knew exactly how to reduce me to a heap of boneless flesh, sated and replete with sensual satisfaction. He is a virtuoso, and his instrument is a woman's form.'"
The band around Eleanor's throat tightened. Had she actually heard a sigh behind her?
"'Not until he was certain I could take no more would he take his own fulfillment. Stretched and filled by his massive maleness, I thanked God that Eve tempted Adam, for being bedded by Brahm Ryland is paradise itself.'"
Lady Dumont looked up from pages and made a great show of fanning herself with her hand as titters echoed around the room. "Dear me. Such praise for Lord Creed." Her smile turned deviously coy. "I wonder if any one of us can testify to the validity of Mrs. Carson's claims?"
There were murmurs around the room, even a few giggles, but if there was one among them who had taken Brahm to her bed, she wasn't speaking. If Lydia spoke, Eleanor would personally wring her neck later.
Her sister kept her mouth shut, unlike Lady Dumont, who opened hers to read more. She was cut off, however, by Arabella, who mercifully
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