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Authors: Victoria Dahl

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

It's Always Been You (27 page)

BOOK: It's Always Been You
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“Yes. He never fully recovered. When he didn’t want to live that way anymore, he took poison. Gerard thought I’d done it. He accused me and so I ran. And I came here. I changed my name to hide from him. And I thought that would be the end of it, I swear. I had no idea that others suspected the same thing.”
“You could’ve told me,” he said roughly.
She nodded. “I could have. But I didn’t.”
The color had returned to her cheeks, but Aidan wondered if she’d stolen it from him. He felt shaky and ill. He did not know if he should be furious or if he should go to his knees before her.
“Gerard will tell everyone. He’ll see me ruined.”
“No, he won’t. He’s locked in a cabin on the
Talisman
. He won’t get off until it reaches Ceylon.”
“Oh,” she said, her eyes wide with surprise. “That was very smart.”
“And very expensive,” he joked, amazed that he was able to smile. “But worth every shilling.”
“I’m not sure about that.” She waved her hand toward the front of the building. “I’m not sure my reputation is salvageable after all this.”
“It will be fine. I’ll send a letter to the governor, explaining what I’ve witnessed. I’ll have my brother send one as well.”
“I don’t know. If that doesn’t work . . . I do not even care for my reputation, but yours . . .”
“Kate . . .” he started, but what could he say? He hated her and loved her. He wanted her still, but she didn’t want him. And when she turned to him, he was sure he imagined the yearning in her eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Speaking of . . .” He tossed a glance toward the window. “I should go before there’s even more talk.”
“Oh. Yes.” Even as she nodded, tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her lashes. “Of course you must go.”
Every muscle in his body ached with the need to hold her, but he had no right to touch her. She’d made that clear in London in no uncertain terms. So he stood, and his eye caught on the doorway to her bedroom and the open chest inside.
“Were you going to go with him?”
“No.”
“You were already packed, Kate.”
“I wasn’t . . . I thought I would have to flee, but I wasn’t going with him.”
“But you were leaving.”
“I . . .” She shook her head and didn’t bother saying more.
Aidan gave a small bow. “Well, you can unpack now at least. I’ll be back. I need to compose that letter, but I’ll need more details first.”
“That’s very . . . I can’t thank you enough.”
“Yes, well . . . If Lucy is waiting below, I’ll send her up.”
His foot was above the top step when Kate said his name. He stuttered, turning back to her.
“Don’t go,” she breathed.
 
 
Kate stood, her hands twisting so hard together that her fingertips tingled and flashed. “I know you might never forgive me.”
His brow fell and he started to shake his head.
“Please,” she said, holding up one shaking hand. “It’s all right. I just wanted you to know that . . . This morning I was lying in my bed, waiting for the sun to come up, and all I could think of was you. I knew I’d never let Gerard take me to Ceylon, because I needed to tell you I was sorry.”
“Kate, I understand. It’s—”
“No, not about the lies, but for what I said in London. And what I thought . . .” Tears stung her throat at her own bitter resentment. He’d apologized, he’d revealed to her his shame, his regret, and she’d turned from him just as she’d turned from him ten years ago.
But did she have the courage to turn back now? Could she offer him mercy, accept that it was natural for a grieving man to turn to visceral pleasure for comfort? And how could she please a man who’d had so many women?
That morning, in the cold hours before dawn, Kate had thought of the glorious implosion of her first climax with Aidan, right there in her bed. Each one after had been just as intense, just as surreally pleasurable. And in the aftermath her body and mind had been unresponsive, so lax, so drained that she’d always fallen immediately asleep. As had Aidan. She could imagine that blankness as comfort. She could imagine how he’d crave that.
“That woman,” she whispered. “She said you were insatiable. That you never stopped. But you weren’t insatiable with me, were you?”
Red burned into his cheeks, not of embarrassment it seemed, but helplessness. His hands rose from his sides as if he were searching for some diplomatic way to phrase his words.
“It’s all right, Aidan. You don’t have to lie.”
“I don’t know how to explain it, Kate. It can’t make sense to you. . . .”
She nodded. “I’ve been humiliated, thinking that I could never satisfy a man who’d known so many women—”
“For God’s sake, never think that. There’s nothing true about it.”
But Kate realized that she didn’t need him to say the words to her. She understood. She did. “Insatiable,” she said again, and Aidan flinched from the word. “That doesn’t mean satisfied, does it?”
“Pardon?” he murmured.
“It means unsatisfied. Starving. Desperate. And you weren’t that with me . . . were you?”
His brow wrinkled for a moment, a spasm of confusion passing over his face, but then his eyes cleared and he looked at her. He truly looked at her for the first time that day, though pain shone clearly in that gaze. “No,” he said. “I wasn’t. Not with you.”
He hadn’t been lying to her. He had been alone . . . lonely,
lost
. He hadn’t found comfort with those women. Not at all.
At that moment, even knowing he might not forgive her, Kate felt brave. Felt she could throw her soul into the void and trust that she would be fine. She nodded.
“I hope that you will forgive me some day. For the things I said to you. And the things I never said. And for letting them take me away from you before. I won’t go away again.” She managed a smile past her tears. “Perhaps not even if you want me to.”
He moved toward her, and he looked so large, suddenly. So strong and safe. He’d always just been Aidan before, but now she saw him with new eyes. He was the Aidan she’d always known, but he was more than that too. Strong and steady and a man she’d love even if she’d never known him before.
“Katie,” he murmured, reaching to touch her cheek.
She could not tell what was in his eyes. If he was saying good-bye or something much better. But she would say the same thing to him regardless. “I love you so much,” Kate whispered. “More than you can ever know. You are such a
good
man.”
“Don’t say that. Please.”
“You are good. But not perfect. If you were perfect, I’d never have even met you. You would’ve kept your hands to yourself, just as you should have.”
He pulled her into his arms, his laugh sounding suspiciously rough. Kate just closed her eyes and breathed him in, thankful for every second that she could touch him. It might have to last her for years.
He drew a deep breath, the sound of it a comforting rumble in her head. “I haven’t been good for a long time. I couldn’t imagine life without you, Katie. I never could. That’s why I was so lost. I just . . . I couldn’t make myself want anything more than you.”
That was when she began to cry, because she knew he would forgive her, and he’d love her, and they would have this chance. Finally. A real chance to love each other on their own terms. She was on solid ground again. Every stone back in place.
“I love you,” he breathed against the top of her head. “I’m not perfect, but I’m yours, if you’ll have me. I’ve never been anyone else’s.”
“He is very tall, don’t you think? Elegant even?”
Kate smiled down at Lucy as she fastened a simple pendant around her neck. “Mr. Penrose? Yes, he is quite elegant.”
Lucy sighed and swung her feet against the legs of her stool. “He may be too cautious for me. He hasn’t even tried to steal a kiss!”
“He respects you. Perhaps he has something more permanent in mind.”
“Bite your tongue!” Lucy gasped, tapping a playful slap on Kate’s arm. “Whatever would I do with a respectable man like that?”
“Liven up his life, I’d say.”
“Well, he does need a bit of livening. All he ever does is work.”
“He’s very dedicated. That’s important in a man.”
“Mmm.” Lucy sighed and resumed her pose of a forlorn maid. “Well, you have Aidan in your bed and my beau is nowhere near mine.”
“He’s a beau then, is he?” Lucy’s blush wasn’t the least bit innocent. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Lucy, but he doesn’t seem the type to fall happily into an affair.” Lucy groaned in exaggerated misery, but Kate threw her a cheeky grin that held not a trace of sympathy. “But I, for one, think Lucy Penrose is a lovely name.”
“Ha! Can you imagine that? Me, a nice married woman?”
“Yes, and so can you. I can tell by the frighteningly devoted way you watch him.”
“Never say so!” Lucy laughed, jumping up from the stool. “Are you ready then?”
Kate drew a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
“You look so beautiful.”
Kate ran a shaky hand down the skirt of her new dress. The silk was a deep ruby red shot through with hints of black. She loved it so much and could not wait for Aidan to see it. But the thought of being surrounded by his family set off butterflies in her stomach. What would they think of her? Did they blame her for his unhappiness?
She was so glad she’d brought Lucy along as her guest. Since the moment they’d set foot in the York family home that afternoon, she’d done her best to distract Kate from her nervousness. But though Lucy kept up her chatter, Kate was still trembling as they descended the stairs. There were so many people to meet, and she felt like a lone warrior entering battle.
As soon as her feet touched the floor, Kate looked up and saw Aidan’s mother headed straight for her. Kate squeaked, but her squeak was smothered in Baroness York’s arms as the woman pulled her into a tight embrace.
Hoping she was being hugged and not strangled, Kate tentatively patted her back.
“You!” the baroness sobbed.
Kate stared wide-eyed at Aidan as he approached with a smile. “Lady York, I’m sorry if I’ve—”
“My darling girl, you are the best birthday gift I could ever receive!”
“Oh, I . . . Are you quite sure?” Kate made helpless eyes at Aidan, but he only crossed his arms and watched with a wide grin.
Help me,
she mouthed when his mother squeezed even tighter. Aidan shook his head.
“My dear, dear girl,” his mother sighed before finally leaning back to hold Kate at arm’s length. “Returned from the dead! Imagine that! I tell you, I fainted when I heard the news. I did!”
“Mother,” Aidan warned quietly.
“Oh, hush. I won’t tell a soul. Not a soul!”
Her voice carried clearly through the crowd, and Kate laughed at the way Aidan winced. They’d agreed it would be best if no one knew who Kate Gallow truly was. She was being introduced as a distant cousin from Hull, but his poor mother was fairly vibrating with the need to tell everyone the real story.
“And thank you,” the dowager baroness whispered loudly, “for bringing my son back. He has been ever so grumpy for years.”
Aidan sighed loudly, newly irritated again, it seemed.
“Oh, it’s true!” the baroness whispered, though her whisper carried as far as her normal voice. Aidan claimed she had practiced that for years. “He has been a trial, I tell you.”
Kate pressed a hand to her mouth to try to stifle her laugh. She thought she heard Aidan growl, but the tension was defused by a tiny elderly woman who shuffled over to the baroness’s side. She eyed Kate from behind wrinkles so deep that Kate wondered if she could see past them.
“Aunt Ophelia,” Aidan said with a small bow. “May I present Mrs. Gallow of Hull? Kate, this is my great-aunt, Mrs. Ophelia White.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Kate said, dipping into a low curtsy. The tiny woman looked so ancient that Kate had to fight the urge to reach out and support her.
“Hmph.” Aunt Ophelia looked her up and down, then turned her gaze on Aidan, her nose wrinkling. “Well, I see you’ve finally located your bullocks, young man.”
Kate blinked in shock, while Aidan seemed frozen, his lips parted.
Aunt Ophelia turned her eyes back to Kate. “Good news for you, I suppose. Would’ve been a disappointment otherwise.”
“Um . . .”
Lady York merely smiled and patted the woman’s hand. “Oh, Aunt Ophelia. You do go on so. Come, let’s get you a glass of lemonade.”
“I can get my own lemonade,” the woman muttered, shuffling off the same way she’d come. Apparently she’d completed her mission.
“Aidan,” Kate whispered.
“Don’t bother asking me,” he answered back. “I suspect she may be a spy.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I have no idea.”
Lady York grabbed both her hands. “Katherine, you must tell me all about the East. What was it like to live in the jungle? How did you—?”
“Mother,” Aidan said loudly, glancing around to be sure no one had heard. “Come. I believe I hear the music starting. Would you honor me with the first dance on your special day?”
“Oh, do you see?” the baroness crowed to Kate. “Do you see how sweet he is now?”
“Yes,” Kate laughed. “I think he’s nearly tame.”
“Exactly.”
Aidan aimed a look at Kate that promised retribution, but he asked, “Will you be all right?” under his breath.
Kate took another deep breath. “I think I shall.”
It was a small party, by Aidan’s account, but it seemed overwhelming for Kate. Lucy had already been led off to dance by an old man in a dashing red cravat, so Kate wandered through the party, trying to take it all in. Laughter swirled through the air, tripping, dancing along the currents, spinning around her. Women trilled and giggled and tittered. Men chuckled and huffed and guffawed. Some of it was bitter, hardened by sarcasm, but most sounded good-natured. Kate let it all wash over her.
“Mrs. Gallow!” a friendly voice called. Kate turned to see a beautiful woman with strawberry blond hair. “Marissa?” she asked in shock. “I mean, I apologize. . . . It’s Mrs. Bertrand now, isn’t it?”
“Oh, nonsense.” Kate was enveloped in another hug, though this one was not quite so melodramatic. “Call me Marissa. I’m determined that we shall be sisters, after all. Has Aidan asked yet?”
“I . . . It’s . . .”
Marissa waved a dismissive hand. “All in good time. Believe me, I was in no rush to marry myself. Men are such moody creatures, are they not? Funny that we are considered the delicate sex when they are so obviously inferior in strength of mind. Oh, hullo, darling.”
Her husband, a great hulk of a man, offered an ironic smile through the introductions, but he graciously excused himself a moment later. “I wanted to meet Mrs. Gallow, but I now fear I’ve already overheard more than I meant to.”
“Oh, I wasn’t speaking of you,” Marissa said.
“We’ll discuss that later, dearest wife,” he said with such a warm warning in his tone that Kate blushed to hear it. “And endeavor to decide who is the weaker sex.”
“I shall win that argument.”
“Or you shall enjoy losing,” he said.
Marissa wore a wicked smile as she watched him leave, but she was serious again when she turned back to Kate. “You look well.”
“As do you,” Kate offered with complete honesty. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you, but . . .” She waved a hand. “I really mean that you look well. I’m sure you were . . . I can’t imagine. . . .”
Kate smiled. “I am very happy to be home,” she said, feeling a startling jolt of pleasure as she said it. When she and Aidan married, this would be her home at least part of the time, and what a grand place to feel welcomed.
“Aidan mentioned that you wished to pierce your ears.”
Kate blinked at the strange change of subject. “He said that?”
“He did, along with a hundred other things. He was quite eager for you to arrive today. He talked incessantly. I almost wished him silent again, though I never truly would. So would you like to?”
Kate stared blankly. “What?”
“Pierce your ears! Come to my room tomorrow. I’ll have Cook send some ice. It is just the sort of thing that sisters do.”
“Oh.” She smiled tentatively and touched her bare ear. “All right. Perhaps I shall.”
“Wonderful! Now you must excuse me. A waltz is starting, and I promised my husband. . . .”
“Of course.”
Kate couldn’t help but grin, but she moved closer to the French doors in the quietest part of the room. Aidan’s family was a bit overwhelming all at once. Her father had considered them quite vulgar, which is why she’d never been able to attend one of their famous hunting parties.
But now she could do whatever she liked. She watched the party unfold around her and began to relax.
But then an icy wall of air touched her back. A strong grip circled her arm. The hand tugged her carefully through the French door and out onto the terrace where her body was instantly warmed by the press of him against her back.
“You promised to dance with me,” Aidan said. His deep voice rumbled through her body and tickled the skin of her neck.
Arching into him, Kate purred. “I certainly did not. I said I’d think about it and that was only after you badgered me for fifteen minutes.”
“We’ve never danced together.”
“I know. I just . . .” She shook her head, then softened and smiled when his arm curled around her to offer a glass of champagne. Taking a sip, she shrugged. “I’ve never had much practice, Aidan. You know that.”
“I do.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his jaw against her temple, and they stood, quietly, comfortably, and watched the guests in their bright finery, talking and laughing and flirting, unaware of the couple nestled outside in the shadows.
Champagne bubbles tickled her tongue and Aidan’s fingers stroked the line of her ribs, setting off twin vibrations of pleasure. The icy air was a balm to her heated skin, the soft notes of music from inside soothed her fraying nerves, and the body of the man she loved set her heart tripping happily.
She didn’t realize her glass was already empty until Aidan plucked it from her fingers and turned her in his arms.
Staring up at him, his hair highlighted blue with moonlight, his hard jaw softened by a smile, she felt a painful swell of love build in her chest. The stroke of his fingers over her lips set off a shock of heat low in her belly, and she wondered that she’d thought she could live without this, without him.
“Dance with me,” he whispered. “Here. Beneath the stars.”
“Here?” Her voice was high with surprise and arousal.
“Here.” His hand slipped down her arm, leaving nerves dancing, and slid into her hand to grasp her fingers. “Listen.”
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and heard the strains of the waltz.
They began to turn, to step and revolve, and she felt the magic of the cold night air seep into her. He was a strong lead and his ability let her imagine she was graceful and light, young and confident.
The world around her spun, and she felt pleasantly dizzy—with love, with champagne, with pleasure. Opening her eyes, she found Aidan watching her with a smile. The dance was over.
“Marry me,” he breathed.
Kate’s heart thundered. She’d known he would ask, but for some reason it still shocked her. Or perhaps her heart was simply flooded with joy.
“We can marry here,” he said. “This week. My family is all here. And Lucy.”
“Here? So soon?”
“Yes.” His voice was strong as steel. “So soon. As soon as possible. We can live in Hull if you like. Or London. Or here. Wherever you want, as long as you’re my wife.”
Her impulse was to ask for time, but time for what? Time was the one thing she didn’t need. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Thank God,” he breathed against her lips as his mouth sought hers out. “You’re shaking,” he said just as she realized her teeth had started to chatter. “Are you cold?”
“Yes. Or excited. I’m not sure.”
“I’ll pretend it’s excitement even as I whisk you inside and into the warmth.”
BOOK: It's Always Been You
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