It's Always Been You Page 19

“I’m sorry. I’m actually as unused to morning-after rituals as you.”

  She nodded and set down the tray. Aidan felt a flash of regret, knowing she’d assume something far different from the truth, but he let the moment pass.

  She’d donned her shift and a dressing gown before opening the door, much to his disappointment, but he was hopeful they’d be coming off later. There was the whole day ahead, after all.

  They drank the marginally hot coffee and devoured the rolls, Aidan watching her greedily the whole time. He was fascinated by her, by the knowledge that he loved her, and he didn’t want to miss a thing. When he thought of her becoming a part of his family, he couldn’t stop the words.

  “I love you, Kate.”

  Her eyes went wide and he saw the clenching of her throat as she swallowed.

  “You must know that.”

  “No,” she breathed. Her head made a vague side-to-side movement. “I don’t.”

  “There’s never been another woman in my home. I’ve never . . . You’re the only one who . . .”

  She was shaking her head again. “Aidan—”

  “This isn’t some phantom, Kate. It’s real. I won’t pretend otherwise.”

  “I know that,” she said with sudden urgency. “I know it’s real. Do you think I don’t feel it?”

  Thank God. Aidan relaxed back into his chair, his lungs already free enough to draw more air.

  “If it wasn’t real, I’d never have come here. But it is so much more complicated than you know. My husband—”

  “I spoke to someone,” he interrupted, leaning forward again in excitement. “I raised the question of divorce.”

  Kate froze. The color in her cheeks seemed to dip beneath the surface, hiding itself from him.

  “It might be a possibility,” he assured her. “Marissa’s new father-in-law is Duke—”

  “A duke?” She surged to her feet.

  He raised a hand to stop her, but she slapped it away.

  “I told you to tell no one. No one. And you exposed me to a duke? How dare you?”

  “I hardly exposed you. I only asked if he might be willing to sponsor your—”

  “Aidan! You had no right. None! If my husband’s family finds out . . . Or my husband, of course . . . I told you not to pursue this!”

  Aidan stood and paced to the window, trying to calm his temper, but he couldn’t understand her. “So you want to stay married?” he demanded. “You want to be Mrs. Hamilton, and I’ll be . . . what? The paramour you keep in a hidden cottage?”

  “No! Why must you always see things in black and white?”

  “What do you mean, always?”

  “You know what I mean! You always have. When you could not get my father’s permission, you decided that was it. We could not marry, and it was over.”

  Frustration rolled through him as a wave of fury. “We couldn’t marry! You were the one with no understanding. If we’d run to Gretna Green, your life would have been ruined! Both our reputations in shreds. I had no money, no house. How—”

  “And,” she interrupted quietly, “how could that have been worse than this?”

  The softness of her voice canceled out the words in his throat. The argument. The way to make her see that he was right. Kate watched him, her eyes sad and worn.

  “But . . .” He shook his head. “How could I have known?”

  “You couldn’t have. Just as you can’t know what will happen for us now. I only want you to see that you took that decision from me then. And I am done with letting others make decisions for me. I won’t have it.”

  He wanted to argue further. Of course he would take back that decision if he could. Knowing what he knew now, he’d have carried her to Scotland and damn the consequences. She wasn’t being fair.

  “I told you I wouldn’t make any attempt to divorce my husband. Even if I’ve changed my mind, it’s not up to you to force the issue.”

  He stood straighter. “Have you changed your mind?”

  Kate ducked her head. Two bright spots of pink returned to her cheeks. “I need time to think.”

  The awful pain in his chest eased a little. She wasn’t saying no, which was more than she’d granted last time.

  “And what of your family? They will not like being dragged into this. Your brother—”

  “My brother will not give a damn. And my mother always adored you.”

  “I only met your mother twice, and she didn’t know we were . . . so close.”

  “She knew.”

  Kate’s chin snapped up. “You told her? About us?”

  “No, she saw me mooning about, and if anyone can recognize lovesickness it is my mother. How did you think I arranged that two-week visit to your neighbor’s estate? I told her that I was in love with you and she took over the scheming.”

  Kate’s tense frown relaxed into a smile. “Did she?”

  “Indeed.”

  Her temper had eased, it seemed, and she lowered herself back into the chair with a sigh. “I may not be able to have children, you know.”

  “Heirs are my brother’s duty, not mine.”

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and one for him as well. “Let me think on it, Aidan.”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “You must let me come to this decision on my own. You can’t understand the damage you could do. Please, I only need time.”

  Time. He could give her that. He’d already given a decade, after all.

  Chapter 25

  Hot water lapping at her chin, Kate watched steam curl up from the lilac-scented water that filled the tub. How long had it been since she’d taken a deep, hot bath? How long since she’d set foot in a home like this?

  It could be hers, she knew that. But now she was more confused than ever. Aidan wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man with all the stupid weaknesses of a man. The need to control. The need to be more than. She’d been ready to tell him the truth, but he’d treated her like a child who couldn’t truly know what she wanted.

  The irony being that he was the one in the dark.

  For a moment, she felt an ugly surge of superiority. He thought he had the answers, and he didn’t even know the right question.

  But she immediately felt awful, and sunk an inch lower into the water. It lapped at her mouth and made her feel hidden and safe.

  He wasn’t truly like her father. Or her husband. First of all, he was kind, and always had been. Secondly, he loved her. Yes, he’d betrayed her with his advocacy, but she’d betrayed him in a far deeper way. And his dishonesty had been in the name of hope. Hers was based on ugly fear.

  She sighed, rippling the water with her breath.

  He did not care that she was older. That she dressed like a shopkeeper. He did not even care that she might not give him children.

  Her heart thumped slow and steady in her body. She raised her mouth from the water. “I love him,” she whispered, and her pulse stayed steady. “I love him.”

  Kate pictured the foundation that propped her up. The stones she’d worked so hard to replace. She imagined herself walking around a square wall, dragging her fingers along the strong edges. Yes, there were still parts of it that had been damaged beyond repair. She could shore those up but never replace them. But the foundation, which had been riddled with holes, looked untouched in places now. Certainly strong enough to see her through a life.

  Her heart lightened, and she knew she would tell Aidan the truth. Not out of fear of Gerard Gallow, but out of love for Aidan. Today she was a woman with a life ahead of her. Now she only had to get rid of the past.

  Kate did not like the contrast of her drab brown dress against the flower blue runner that carpeted the stairs. She lifted her skirt higher in an attempt to lessen the comparison, but then she felt vulgar and lowered the fabric again. She could not wear the blue dress every day. And she had greater problems than her sad fashions, but she still wished to look beautiful for Aidan.

  When she glanced up and saw him waiting at t
he bottom of the stairway, Kate’s awareness of her dress grew heavier for a brief moment. And then he smiled and it disappeared altogether.

  “Good afternoon,” he said with a solemnity that clashed with his boyish grin.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. York.”

  He stole a quick kiss when she joined him.

  Though she blushed, she couldn’t bear to pull away. “Your servants . . .” she murmured.

  “I’ll pay them extra to recover from the scandal of it all. They’ll be begging me to have you back again.”

  She let her fingers trail against his as she stepped away.

  “Now,” he said, strolling with her toward the morning room. “We have luncheon in a few moments, but perhaps you’d like to see some of London afterward. Much as I’d like to keep you locked in the bedchamber for days.”

  “Surely we can’t be seen together.”

  “We’ll take a closed carriage. No one will know.”

  It sounded wicked and dangerous, but she couldn’t enjoy it until she’d set her deception aside. “Aidan, I need to tell you something.”

  His teasing smile faded to a frown.

  “Could we sit for a moment, before luncheon?” Her heart thundered in her chest as if danger were approaching at a fast run.

  “Kate, what is it?”

  She was just opening her mouth when danger became all too real, though it appeared in an unexpected form. The front door opened, and there stood someone she hadn’t thought to worry over. Young Mr. Penrose.

  Kate could not see her own face, but she imagined it mirrored Mr. Penrose’s expression perfectly: utter, sudden shock.

  “Mrs. Hamilton,” he gasped.

  Aidan cursed, and Penrose’s eyes shifted to his employer for a moment. When he looked back to Kate, realization hit his gaze, and his mouth dropped open.

  Kate’s face burned with mortification. They stood frozen in an awkward triangle until Aidan finally spoke. “What the hell are you doing here, man? I sent you to Hull!”

  “But I . . .” Penrose stammered. “I found a house. And I thought . . . I sent a letter last night, sir. I thought . . . Um . . .” He swallowed so hard that the sound echoed through the room.

  “I received no letter,” Aidan snapped, but Kate felt sorry for poor Mr. Penrose. If a letter had arrived, surely Aidan had been too occupied to notice.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I . . .” His voice faded into a small leak of air from his throat. He swallowed hard again, his natural color disappearing behind a wave of red. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Aidan said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Wait for me in my study.”

  “Yes, of course!” Penrose offered a quick bow in her direction. “Excuse me, Mrs. Hamilton.” Then he raced so quickly toward the far corridor that he slipped on the marble floor and nearly fell. “Pardon me,” he gasped before lurching away.

  Kate and Aidan both stared at the archway to the corridor until they heard the sharp clap of a door closing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Aidan said, turning to take her hands. “I’ll explain to him that you’ve come for a tour of my home while you’re visiting London.”

  “I’m not sure he’ll believe that,” she whispered.

  “It doesn’t matter. He’ll be happy to accept the explanation, whether he believes it or not.”

  “Don’t be cruel to him. It’s not his fault.”

  “Well, for God’s sake, I’m not a tyrant.”

  “He’s afraid of you.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Aidan snapped.

  She almost smiled at his disgruntled scowl. Everyone liked Aidan. He was probably put off by the idea anyone could be afraid of him. She gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry over me. Mr. Penrose wouldn’t tell a soul.”

  “He’d better not. Excuse me for a few moments.” He gave her a distracted kiss on the cheek before turning on his heel.

  Kate took a deep breath as his footsteps echoed down the corridor. Her lungs hurt a tiny bit at the strain, but otherwise she felt strangely undamaged. She did not want Mr. Penrose to think her a loose woman, but then again . . . wasn’t that exactly what she was?

  She smothered a smile at the thought as she headed for the morning room to wait. What a journey she’d taken, from colorless wife to gentleman’s mistress. What a sweet, swift descent into unrespectability. A natural journey, though. She hadn’t exactly started life as an obedient daughter.

  A maid came to serve her tea before disappearing into the kitchens to complete preparing luncheon. “Just tug the bell if you need me, missus.” Kate agreed, then wandered over to the window to look out at the street beyond. She stayed close to the curtains to hide herself from prying eyes, but Kate devoured the scene before her. Aidan’s home was on a large corner lot in an intimidatingly wealthy part of the city. She wasn’t familiar with the neighborhood, but hopefully Aidan would give her a tour when they took their carriage ride. The street was quiet this early in the day, and likely half-deserted during the winter, regardless, but Kate enjoyed the short bursts of traffic that traveled by.

  As she watched, an unmarked coach slowed to a stop just in front of the window. The driver descended and approached Aidan’s entry stairs. He was too close to the house for Kate to see, but she heard the three sharp raps against the thick door.

  A few moments later, the butler passed the doorway of the morning room. Though she heard the murmur of the two men’s voices, she couldn’t make out the words. The driver came back into view outside, but instead of resuming his seat, he approached the door of the carriage.

  As he spoke, the curtains of the carriage window slid open an inch, but Kate could see nothing inside.

  The driver shook his head and raised his hands. A few more words were exchanged, and then he opened the door and a woman emerged. Though her face was hidden by a large hat and a pale gray veil, her dress was startling in its beauty. The dusty red fabric draped over an underskirt of dove gray silk that perfectly matched the gray ribbon at her neck. Kate was so entranced by the gorgeous colors that it took her a moment to realize the woman was ascending Aidan’s front steps.

  “My word,” Kate gasped, pressing a hand to her throat. Who could it be? Marissa, perhaps?

  Another knock this time, much softer than the last. This time when the butler passed the morning room, Kate snuck closer to the hall to eavesdrop.

  “I know he is here,” the woman snapped. “I was informed yesterday that he’d returned.”

  “Madam, I assure you that—”

  Kate snuck a peek just in time to see the feminine vision brush past the butler and stop in the middle of the entry. “I will see him,” she snarled.

  “Madam, he is not at home!”

  Ignoring the butler, the woman turned in a slow circle. Kate’s reflexes were dull, weighted down by the boulder of anxiety that had formed in her stomach. This was not Aidan’s sister. Even past the large hat, Kate could see a coil of black hair.

  Before Kate realized that she should retreat, the woman faced her and stopped cold. A glove of pearl gray kid rose up to adjust her veil and lay it back against the hat, and Kate was faced with one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. The boulder in her stomach turned, grinding her belly into sand.

  “Well,” the woman said. When she stepped forward, Kate stepped back, and the woman followed her into the morning room. “Who are you?” she asked archly.

  Kate just shook her head, her hand still pressed to her throat.

  “Mrs. Renier,” the butler said, his face a portrait of pained discomfort.

  Mrs. Renier ignored him. “You’re not a maid.” She swept her eyes down Kate’s dress. “Quite.”

  Kate bristled. “I’m a guest of Mr. York. My family . . .” The lie turned to ash on her tongue and she couldn’t think what to say.

  “A guest?” the beautiful woman hissed. “Aidan York doesn’t have guests. Or friends. Or pleasant visitors from the country. You’re his new lo
ver, aren’t you?”

  “I . . .” Now she truly couldn’t speak. New lover. Which meant that this beautiful creature had once been—

  “You’re hardly his type,” Mrs. Renier sneered, sweeping another damning look down Kate’s body. “But perhaps he’s run through all of us by now.”

  The backs of Kate’s knees hit the settee, but she refused to collapse onto it. She registered the movement of the butler rushing away, but her gaze stayed locked on the woman in front of her. Aidan’s lover.

  Mrs. Renier smirked. “You look distraught. I hope you weren’t so foolish as to think yourself special, though I understand the temptation. We all know the tales about him, don’t we? The countless women, the whispered tales of his . . . prowess. But once you’re alone with him, it seems you must be different.”

  Kate tried to gather some strength, but it seemed only enough to shake her head. “No.”

  Pain twitched briefly over Mrs. Renier’s face, turning her sneer into a grimace, but she laughed to cover it. “Of course you must be different, because he’s insatiable. Four or five times a night. It’s never enough for him. You’re never enough for him. Until you are.”

  “Mrs. Renier,” she managed to plead past her collapsing throat. Something seemed to have come loose in her head. She knew that this was terrible, knew this information was going to hurt, and badly, but it was far away, softened by the distance of shock, by a haze of denial.

  The woman’s smile gentled, and her voice lowered to an intimate murmur. “He is so skilled. So handsome. We want him to belong to us. But we are just like a hundred other women, you and I. And he has had us all.”

  The pain finally caught up with Kate, sinking in its teeth with the viciousness of a small, rabid beast. Now her throat wasn’t the only thing collapsing. It seemed the whole room was falling in on her. Bile rose to sting her throat. She sucked in air and swallowed the sickness back.

  Disgust and shame rippled through her stomach, and the bile surged up, gagging her. She choked it back but must have made some noise, some sound, because Mrs. Renier stepped back in alarm.

  “There’s no need to be melodramatic, you fool. Have a little pride at least. It’s the only thing he admires.”