It's Always Been You (20 page)

Read It's Always Been You Online

Authors: Victoria Dahl

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: It's Always Been You
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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.
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 the 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 lover, 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.”
Kate pushed past Mrs. Renier and stumbled from the room, her eyes locked on the curve of the stairway.

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