Authors: Victoria Dahl

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

It's Always Been You (5 page)

BOOK: It's Always Been You

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There was no point in staring into the wardrobe. She owned only one dress that could possibly be worn to the Cains’ reception. Though it was modest and staid like the rest of her gowns, the material set it apart—a dark aquamarine silk that seemed to cast shadows upon itself when she moved. She ran a hand over the lovely fabric and felt a thrill course along her spine.

Silly, she supposed. She’d once worn gowns of silk and lace and fabrics shot through with silver. But this was a new time, a new place, and this dress made her happy.

She refastened her hair into a roll at the base of her neck and studied her own face in the mirror. What did Aidan see when he looked at her? She traced one finger over her cheekbone and the tiny scar that still lingered. Her face was thinner, certainly. She thought she looked tired, but perhaps the slight hollows in her cheeks sculpted her into a mysterious beauty.

She smiled at that, and though her smile was slightly marred by the small pucker of the scar, it was a real smile. The sight of it set her eyes sparkling. She was no beauty now, if she ever had been, but she was free. And despite all her brave thoughts of living a solitary existence, she was excited about the party. And she was trying very hard not to be excited about her suspicion that
he
might be there. She’d been on pins and needles all day, waiting for him to step into her shop. He hadn’t, and her suspicion was growing into a knot in her stomach.

“Mrs. Hamilton?” a tentative voice echoed from downstairs.

“I’m here!” she called back. Lucy’s maid hurried up the stairs.

Before Kate could finish thanking her for her troubles, the short, round maid was tugging Kate’s corset strings with brutal strength.

“I’d say we can get another two inches off that waist, missus.”

Kate put an alarmed hand to her stomach. “I don’t think that’s—” But she watched in amazement as the tightening stays pushed her breasts higher. Her fingers slid up to hover over the pale skin of her bosom. When she dared a breath in, the mounds of her breasts swelled. “Oh,” she breathed.

Did she still have this body? Was she still a woman beneath all her ghosts and memories? How very strange.

“There we are,” the maid muttered. “Lovely.”

The maid swept the dress over Kate’s head, briefly turning her world into hills and folds of twilight seas. Wanting to hold on to the moment, Kate closed her eyes and did not open them until every tie had been tied and every hook fastened. When she opened them, she saw a stranger in the mirror. A slim and regal woman whose face showed false depths of peace and confidence.

She realized then that she needn’t have worried she’d be recognized and connected to her parents or her departed husband. There was nothing of the rosy-cheeked optimist she’d been as a girl. And she was no longer the dull-eyed wraith she’d become in Ceylon. Not quite.

“Are ye ready then?” the maid asked.

Kate nodded. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

The bodice didn’t dip low, but with the corset tightened so expertly, the barest hint of rounded bosom was visible above the neckline. Kate traced the pads of her fingers over her skin, amazed that she could look so feminine.

She had sold all her jewelry, so she didn’t even have a brooch to pin to her dress, much less a pendant to draw the eye to her skin. But for the first time in years, she touched the barest hint of rouge to her cheeks and lips before retrieving her slippers and cloak.

By the time the coach stopped in front of the Cain house, Kate was shaking with nervous excitement. After she handed her cloak to a footman, she clutched her reticule tightly between her hands and looked around. A thrill spiraled through her at the sight of dozens of elegantly dressed people.

In Ceylon there had been parties, but David had never taken her. A few women had stopped by the plantation upon her arrival, wanting to know who she was and what news she had from England, like vultures picking at the carcass of her lost life. But David had sent them away.

Eventually, they’d left her alone.

The sound of bright laughter distracted her from her memories, and she looked up to see Lucy Cain hurrying over. Her red curls were piled high atop her head, and an emerald green dress showed off skin as pale as untouched snow.

Kate closed her eyes as the girl hugged her. “You look so beautiful, Lucy.”

“And you are lovely, Kate. So pretty. If your handsome gentleman is here, he will prostrate himself at your feet in worship! What is his name?”

“Have we begun to gossip so soon?”

“It is always time for gossip, silly.”

“Well,” Kate murmured, “he is not my gentleman, as you know. I have no idea whether he’ll be here or not.”

“If he is, may I borrow him for a turn about the gardens? As he seems to belong to no one.”

Kate kept her smile bright as she answered. “Of course you may. Though I cannot say whether he belongs to someone or not. He’s merely a business associate. Now tell me all the other gossip. I am a blank page, you know. Fill me up.”

Lucy’s eyes blazed with joy as she took Kate’s arm and swung her around. “Splendid. Let’s see who is here.”

Half an hour later, Lucy was in the middle of the scandal of Mrs. Mortimer—who married her husband’s apprentice before Mr. Mortimer was even cold in his grave—when Kate found her eyes drifting. When she spotted Aidan York watching her from the doorway of the parlor, she didn’t feel even a twitch of surprise.

In that moment, she knew she had dressed for him. When she’d smoothed her hair and touched pink to her lips, she had known he would come.

Lucy’s words snapped to a stop when he drew near.

“Mrs. Hamilton,” he murmured. “You look amazingly lovely.” His deep voice stroked over her as he offered a bow.

“Mr. York,” she said in answer, her chest so tight she had to look away from him. “Miss Cain, may I present Mr. Aidan York of . . .”

“London,” he filled in.

“Oh, sir!” Lucy trilled. “What an honest pleasure.”

He bowed over her hand. “I have cause to do business with your father on occasion, Miss Cain.”

“Are you a sailor, sir?”

“I am in shipping,” he answered, bringing a frown to Kate’s brow. She had been so eager to avoid examination that she hadn’t asked a single thing about him. Shipping. What could that mean? When she’d known him, he’d been the second son of a modest baron, with nothing to recommend him as a husband. Nothing except his wit and smile and gentle hands. Nothing except his love.

Aidan’s warm laugh filled the space around her, and Kate blinked herself back to the present.

“Coffee,” he was saying. “I’ve provided Mrs. Hamilton a shipment once or twice.”

“Oh?” Lucy chirped. “I had no idea importers provided such immaculate service, sir. I am thoroughly impressed.”

Aidan’s answering smile was all charm and affection. “May I offer my service to you now by delivering punch? Or perhaps champagne?”

“Oh, champagne!” Lucy insisted. “Thank you, Mr. York.”

His smile touched on Kate for a bare moment, and she felt it like a charged arc between them.

“Kate,” Lucy hissed as he walked toward a servant.

“My goodness. That is
him,
isn’t it? The man the baker’s wife saw you walking with?”

“He . . . he’s an importer, as he said,” she stammered, her lie making her words skip like stones on a river.

Lucy wisely ignored her. “He is so very handsome! And the way he looks at you . . .”

“He hardly looked at me at all.”

“Exactly. He could not bear it, Kate!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered as Aidan walked back with two glasses. “I am a married woman!”

“Ladies.” His voice was all rumbly good humor. She actually shivered at the sound of it.

“Thank you, Mr. York,” Lucy said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must greet some of our other guests. A buffet is being served in the ballroom. Perhaps you might escort Mrs. Hamilton to a table?”

Kate knocked her elbow hard against Lucy’s but the girl didn’t even wince before she walked away with an innocent smile.

Aidan offered his arm. “I have worried about the state of your stomach.”

She pressed a hand to her waist. “Pardon?”

“The war with your stove. I assume it is a drawn-out affair? The beast is clearly a hated and vicious adversary.”

“Oh.” She tried in vain to tighten her mouth against a smile. “You were not supposed to see that, and you’re horrid to bring it up.”

“On the contrary! I’m offering my support. A warrior needs her strength. Shall we approach the buffet?”

“You’re not clever,” she murmured. But he was. He always had been. So she took his arm and dipped her head so he would not see her smile.

“I saw that,” he whispered, and the softness of his words slipped along her skin. Disturbed, she concentrated on the quick glimpse of her slippers afforded by each step.

“She reminds me of you,” he said softly.

“Who?”

“Miss Cain.”

Her eyes flew wide in disbelief. “You’re mad.”

“She’s mischievous and bright. Happy.”

His words bored a hole through her breastbone, then sunk deep to settle in her belly and burn. She was relieved that they’d reached the buffet. She did not have to speak as he served her bits of the delicacies laid out on impossibly long tables. “Duck is a favorite, if I remember correctly?” he asked as he offered a large serving. Yes, he remembered correctly. She wouldn’t let that thrill her.

When they reached their seats, there were introductions to be exchanged among the other guests. Pleasantries and idle chatter, nothing she had to turn her mind to. So she could think on his ridiculous assertion that Lucy reminded him of Kate.

Did he really still see her that way? How could he? Was it because
he
was unchanged? In his severe black suit and white cravat, Aidan looked . . . My God, he looked beautiful. Not so much like an angel as he’d once looked though. Now he looked dangerous as Lucifer.

Had he always had that knife’s edge to his gaze? She wouldn’t have known. In the past, when he’d looked at her, his eyes had been too full of love to leave room for anything else.

And just like that, she saw him. Really saw him. His short, slightly wavy hair and his shockingly green eyes. His wide mouth and straight nose and hard-hewn jaw. She saw the changes in him too. The touch of gray in his hair and the faint lines that creased his forehead and the corners of his eyes.

He had aged, matured in the years she’d been gone. Grown into his tall frame and wide shoulders. He was extremely attractive. Impossibly, even more attractive than he’d been as a young man. He glanced her way and caught her looking, and he smiled. He smiled, and it was as if there were a lamp inside her and someone had just struck the flame.

Panic welled in her chest and threatened to strangle her.

That had been the feeling curling inside her since yesterday.
Attraction
.

“Katie.”

She jumped nervously at the rich sound of his voice.

“Are you all right?” The last of the other guests at the table had departed. When she only stared mutely, Aidan waved a servant over and took a glass of red wine from the tray.

He held it out toward her, his mouth a line of concern.

“Thank you,” she stuttered, and reached for the glass. The crystal chimed a pretty note when her fingers struck the rim, and a tiny wave of wine sloshed over the edge. The red stain spread in a slow circle over Aidan’s white shirt cuff. Kate stared in horror.

What was she doing? What would people think?

“It’s fine,” Aidan said in a rush as he reached for her hand. “It’s nothing.” His fingers curled over her own and she thought she would dissolve into tears right there at the table. His touch felt wonderful. The heat of his skin seeping into hers. The soft rasp of his fingertips sliding across her knuckles. Wonderful.

Jerking her hand away, she stood on shaky legs. “I must go. Excuse me.”

Aidan frowned up at her. “What? Why?”

“I’m sorry.” She turned and fled before he could even stand, rushing past the swiveling heads of the other guests. She tried to appear calm as she hurried toward the door, tried to pretend she didn’t see the startled looks of her neighbors, but her composure was completely destroyed.

First he’d brought pain back to her life, now his presence was eliciting other emotions as well. She hadn’t expected this, not at all. And she could not afford it.

She reached the front door, but only managed three steps past the frame before his alarmed voice stabbed into her.

“Katie—”

Feeling a hand close over her shoulder, she stopped, embarrassed to be running away again, humiliated that she now saw hiding as her greatest hope.

BOOK: It's Always Been You

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