It's Always Been You

by Victoria Dahl

  It had to be Kate. Perhaps she was with child. What other kind of emergency could possibly call for such discretion? If she was . . . Despite all the impossibilities of such a thing, his heart beat with hard joy. He’d marry her. He’d kill her husband himself if he had to, but he’d marry Kate if she carried his child.

  If she was still determined to resist, he’d convince her. He’d move to Hull and sit on her doorstep every day and show her that he deserved her love.

  Aidan burst from the door, nearly knocking down a boy running past. “Sorry,” he muttered to the startled child as both of them blinked at each other in shock. Finally, the boy ran on, and Aidan snapped the door shut behind him. But he’d only taken two steps when someone called his name.

  “Mr. York!” Penrose rushed toward him, one hand raised in alarm.

  “Penrose, where the hell have you been?”

  “I thought you’d be on the eight o’clock train. I meant to meet you. . . .”

  “I came through Leeds. The first train I could get.”

  Penrose leaned over, fighting to catch his breath, but Aidan wasn’t sympathetic. He grabbed the man’s collar and hauled him up. “What the hell is going on? Is it Kate? What’s happened?”

  “Mr. York,” Penrose gasped. “Mrs. Hamilton has . . .” He gestured vaguely toward the coffee shop.

  Aidan gave him a shake, then forced himself to let Penrose go when passersby began to stare. “Spit it out.”

  He didn’t realize just how hopeful he’d been until Penrose spoke four awful words. “Her husband is here.”

  The shock forced Aidan back a step. “What?”

  “Mr. Hamilton. He arrived on a ship three days ago.”

  One more step back and Aidan’s heel hit the wide stairway of a bank. He sat down hard.

  “Mr. York!” Penrose reached out, but Aidan waved him off with a slow sweep of his hand.

  “What did Kate say?”

  “I didn’t speak with her, sir. Miss Cain asked me to send for you. She seemed . . . overwrought.”

  Fear took over his gut. “Why?”

  Penrose’s gaze darted up and down the walk as if he were afraid of being overheard. He leaned closer. “She said that his return was unexpected and that Mrs. Hamilton seemed quite alarmed, but otherwise nothing was amiss.”

  “What did Kate say?”

  Penrose cleared his throat. “I don’t know that she said anything at all, but I thought you should like to know.”

  “Yes,” he murmured. “Of course. Thank you, Penrose.”

  His secretary cast another nervous look around. “Sir, perhaps we should discuss this in your rooms. If—”

  “I’ll go see her now. Wait here for word.”

  “Mr. York, are you sure that’s—”

  But Aidan waved him off and surged to his feet. Her husband was here. Aidan tried to find some way this could be a good thing, but it couldn’t be, no matter how quickly he turned it in his mind. Neither could he find a way to convince himself that rushing to see her was a good idea, but here he was, nearly running down the lane. What would he say? How could he look this man in the face?

  Aidan had no answers. All he could think was that he must get to her now, now, before she was lost for good.

  The front of the shop was still locked up tight, so he circled to the back, his heart beating so hard he could hear nothing but his own fear. He tried the alley door as if he had the right to simply walk into her home, but that door was locked tight too.

  Aidan banged his fist against the wood, then waited, glaring a hole into the tops of his boots. When there was no answer, he banged again, harder this time, until the door bruised his hand. Still nothing. “Answer, damn you.”

  Where was she? Where had she gone?

  He let his head fall back in frustration, staring up at the narrow slice of blue sky above the alley. The view felt right, as if he were sinking beneath the ground and clawing uselessly at the earth.

  A few deep breaths later and he only felt more determined. A quick look ensured that not one other soul graced the alley. Aidan tried the lock one last time, dared another glance around, and then he slammed his foot into the door as hard as he could. It shook and creaked, but the lock held. Offering a quick, unspoken promise to pay for the repair, Aidan put all his strength into one hard thrust with his foot, and the wood cracked and gave. He tugged it open and half the lock fell to the brick ground.

  Dark silence greeted him. No outraged cries, no pounding feet. Just silence. He hesitated for a moment, foot poised on the threshold, worried what he might find inside. But stillness had never been his gift, so he moved forward, checking the shop first, and finding nothing out of order.

  He made himself take the stairs at an even pace, though he kept his footsteps light. At first, Kate’s rooms looked perfectly normal too, but as his eyes adjusted, he realized something was . . . off. Her neat parlor was still neat, but things were out of place. He pushed the curtain back from the small window to let in more light. The first thing he saw was a crate packed with books and plates and silver . . . and the folded chess set he’d given Kate. Next he saw a bare table where there had once been a clock and a flower vase. A small chest sat next to the table, and Aidan crouched before it and slowly raised the lid.

  It was clothing, packed carefully as if for travel. Men’s clothing.

  All his muscles seized up and he jumped to his feet, letting the top fall shut. He turned to the bedroom, but there was no relief there. Kate’s bed, small as it was, took up most of the space, and he did not want to look at it. Not now. But there was nowhere else to look. The small dresser had once held her brush and comb and mirror. They were gone, along with the pots of cream and powder and the pins that held her hair. And at the foot of her bed, another chest, this one standing open and filled with Kate’s clothes.

  Her husband was here, and she was leaving. Going away from Aidan without a word. Again.

  The strength he’d always felt in her, the passion and certainty . . . What had that been? Nothing solid. Nothing real.

  She’d rather go back to India with a man she didn’t want than stay here and fight for their love. She was angry at him, hurt, and so she’d leave again.

  Barely able to feel his own movements, Aidan turned away from the bedroom. He turned away from her. She was someone else’s wife now. That was what she’d chosen. He would’ve fought the world for Kate, but he couldn’t fight her.

  Aidan was tempted to find a tavern and drink until the serving wench seemed a fine idea. Or he could get himself invited to a dinner party and make friendly eyes at the women until one of them took him home.

  But no. He wasn’t going back to that, not even for the sake of loving Kate. It was killing him, slowly turning his insides to dust.

  He closed the alley door as best he could and walked away, blind to the people around him. He could do this. He could. It wasn’t so bad as being told that she’d died. And he was older now and sick of grief. This would be easier to bear. He was done with her.

  But as he walked through the morning, through the streets that had become as familiar as his own, he looked up and she was there. Distracted, frowning, her hand rested on a man’s arm though her head was tilted away from him.

  Aidan didn’t want to see him, but his eyes had a will of their own. They slid up the man’s arm, up to his shoulder, and his neck, and then his face. Younger than Aidan had expected. Much younger.

  Kate’s chin kicked up, and his gaze was drawn to her. Her eyes widened, her lips parted in horror, and she stared at Aidan as if she could will him gone with just a look. But he didn’t disappear. In fact, his feet became rooted to the ground and he stood in their path like a tree.

  She did not touch her husband easily. Her hand lay stiff on his sleeve and she kept distance between them. Sadly, Aidan found this satisfying. Small comfort when she was married to the man. But then he remembered her words about being broken like a mare, and Aidan felt ashamed. She might not be brave or
strong, but that did not mean she should be miserable. Sudden, fierce hatred for this man rose up in Aidan’s chest like a serpent unfurling. The need to strike tightened all his muscles and his hands rose.

  Kate’s face paled. She tried to shake her head, but her husband caught the movement and followed her gaze. Aidan’s eyes locked with his, and he saw the man’s knowledge as if it were a fire sparking to life in his dark gaze. In that one moment, her husband saw everything, and Aidan realized his horrible mistake.

  The knowledge in those dark eyes had already blazed to fury and hate. Aidan welcomed it, but it would be turned on Kate soon enough, and Aidan couldn’t let her pay for their transgressions.

  So instead of tipping his hat and allowing them to pass, Aidan held his ground and let his anger show.

  “Mrs. Hamilton,” he said, though her name emerged as a low growl.

  She didn’t respond. Aidan raised an eyebrow.

  “Katherine,” her husband said, his gaze not leaving Aidan, “why don’t you introduce me to your friend.”

  Katherine. Aidan wanted to slap the sound of her name from this man’s mouth. The fact that he had more of a right to say it than Aidan did . . . that only turned his anger to rage.

  “This is Mr. York,” she whispered. “Mr. York, this is . . . Mr. Hamilton.”

  The man’s mouth smirked.

  “Are you going with him?” Aidan asked her simply. Please say no. Please say no so I can take you away from this.

  Her eyelashes fluttered.

  “She’s coming home,” her husband said, and Aidan’s rage curled around his heart and squeezed.

  “Kate?” he breathed. This wasn’t the place for this. He knew that. He could feel the stares of people as they edged past, but this was it for him. He couldn’t leave without hearing it from her lips.

  “No,” she finally said.

  Aidan frowned.

  “No, I’m not going with him.”

  “Katherine,” the man said, his hand curling around her wrist.

  Aidan stepped forward. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not getting on the ship, Aidan.”

  It would’ve taken him some time to believe. He needed to breathe and ask her if she meant it, but he saw the way she tugged at her arm and failed to free herself.

  “Let her go,” he growled.

  Her husband’s hand held her still. “Don’t do this, Katherine. I can’t be responsible for what will happen.”

  “I don’t care,” she hissed, yanking her hand free just as Aidan rushed forward to help her.

  “Keep your hands off her,” he said, leaning in close so that the passersby couldn’t overhear.

  “You’re as much a fool as I,” her husband said, offering a hard smile. Aidan didn’t care what was said. His mind was overwhelmed with hope. But he’d misjudged the blow this man could deliver.

  His black hair fell over his brow when he leaned close to Aidan. “I’m not her husband, you know,” he said casually.

  For a moment, Aidan thought he was telling a ridiculous lie, but Kate’s face had paled at his words. “What?” Aidan asked.

  She shook her head and started walking, and Aidan had no choice but to catch up to her. She rushed toward the shop, but the man followed close behind them.

  “It’s true,” he said loudly. “I’m not Mr. Hamilton. In fact, there is no Mr. Hamilton.”

  “Kate?” Aidan asked, but she kept her head down until she reached Guys Lane.

  She scrambled to open the front door, then nearly fell to the floor when she finally slid inside. Aidan put his hand under her elbow and followed her in before he turned to block the doorway.

  “Get the hell out of here,” he ordered, but the bastard only smiled again.

  “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?” he barked.

  “There is no husband, you fool.”

  He was a madman. There was no other explanation. Aidan just wanted him gone.

  “My father died months ago.”

  “Your father?” Aidan scoffed. He put a hand up to stop him from stepping past the threshold.

  “She was my father’s wife.”

  “Kate, what the hell is he talking about?” When she didn’t answer, he looked over his shoulder. “Kate?”

  “I’m sorry.” Her face twisted into a sob before she pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop it.

  “My name is Gerard Gallow,” the man said, stepping through and shutting the door behind him. “And I don’t know what she’s told you or who you think she is, but there is no Mrs. Hamilton and there never has been. She’s a fraud, and the authorities in Ceylon want to question her about my father’s death.”

  Aidan didn’t know what to do, so he went with his overriding impulse and grabbed Gallow by the lapels of his coat to push him against the wall. “She’s not going anywhere.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? You don’t even know who she is!”

  “You’re the fool,” Aidan said softly. “I’ve known her since she was a girl.” Despite his confusion, Aidan was supremely satisfied to see the man’s face pale at that. “You don’t get to tell me who Kate is. I know who she is.”

  But his words were far more certain than his heart. His heart was holding on to Kate’s expression of horrified regret. “If you’re not her husband, then you have no right to be here. None. So get the hell out and never return.”

  “She’s coming back with me.”

  Aidan pulled the man closer, only to give himself the satisfaction of slamming him back into the wall. “She’ll never go back!”

  “She has no choice. She may have killed my father, and she has to answer for that.”

  Kate gasped. “I’ve told you what happened! Aidan, I had nothing to do with it.”

  But Aidan didn’t need to hear that. He actually smiled at the audacity of the man’s lie. “You’re ridiculous. Whatever she’s done, it wasn’t that.” He cocked his head and stared into Gallow’s stone gray eyes. “Even you don’t believe that.” Something dark and liquid moved behind those eyes. “You don’t believe that,” Aidan repeated.

  Gallow held his gaze and didn’t say a word.

  “Kate, did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  Aidan slowly loosened his hold and stepped back. He dusted his hands off while Gallow tugged his coat into place. “Then go get his things. All of them.”

  “Aidan.” Her hand touched his arm, then fluttered away. “He’ll tell everyone. The truth. And the lies. You should go. Your reputation and your family . . . You don’t need to be involved.”

  “Go get his things. He won’t tell anyone anything.”

  Gallow laughed, but Aidan watched Kate calmly until she’d turned up the stairway and he heard her steps ascend. Then he swung back to Gallow. “How did your father die?”

  “He was poisoned.”

  “By whom?”

  “The authorities suspect Katherine. They meant to arrest her. I am the one who stopped them.”

  “And what does she say?”

  His eyes shifted to the side. His cheeks reddened. “She says he took the poison himself.”

  “Did he?”

  Gallow shrugged, his jaw so tight that Aidan could see the muscles straining beneath. “The authorities will have questions about it. That’s why she must return.”

  The stairs creaked behind him. Kate set a small trunk on the floor and pushed it forward with her foot.

  “Is that everything?”

  She nodded.

  Aidan picked up the trunk, strode to the door, and tossed the trunk outside. “Which ship has he booked passage on?”

  “The Talisman,” she whispered. “It sails tomorrow night.”

  “Wait here,” he said to Kate before gesturing for Gerard Gallow to step outside.

  “Aidan . . .” She reached out as if she’d touch him, but Aidan pulled away. “What are you going to—”

  “I said wait here.”

/>   He was left with the image of her stricken expression as he stepped into the street. Gerard Gallow rounded on him, fists clenched and face purple with rage. “I won’t stand for this. She will be ruined and arrested. I’ll see to it.”

  Aidan gathered up all his hurt and fear and rage. He thought of the lies she’d told him and the danger she was in. And then he let it all gather in his fist and drove it into Gerard Gallow’s face.

  The man went down like a sail with its rope cut. The crowd that had gathered around them gasped and drew back. Several of the ladies shrieked.

  “Drunkard,” Aidan explained as he heaved the trunk up to his shoulder. He was crouching down to grab the back of Gallow’s collar so that he could drag the man to the dockyard, but Penrose raced up to take the trunk from Aidan’s shoulder.

  “I’ll take that, sir. Is there someone you need me to get? A constable, perhaps?”

  “No, thank you, Penrose. I’ll take it from here.”

  Aidan bent down, lifted the unconscious man by the shoulders and slung him over his back, staggering a little at the weight. “Find out where the Talisman is docked.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Penrose raced off, running right past Lucy Cain without seeing her. Aidan made a point of nodding in greeting as he passed her, and smiled a little to try to erase some of the fear from her eyes. But her startled blink told him that his smile was more of a snarl, so he ducked his head and walked toward the docks.

  Once there, it was a simple transaction. He paid the captain of the Talisman to keep Gallow locked in a cabin until he set sail. “He’s to have no visitors. I’ll return tomorrow to ensure he’s still here. There’ll be another hundred pounds in it for you if he’s still aboard when you shove off. And I’ll have a letter to be delivered to the governor of Ceylon. Agreed?”

  “Absolutely. An honor to do business with you, Mr. York.”

  Two sailors disappeared below with Gallow slung between them. A third toted his trunk. God willing, Aidan would never see the man again.

  Still . . . he’d rather fight Gerard Gallow like a dog in the street than return to Kate and find out why she’d lied to him. About everything.

  He had no choice, but he eyed the train station as he passed it, wishing he could simply board a train and go somewhere else. Anywhere else. But he walked on until he reached the door of her shop. The small groups of people still loitering on the walk studied him as he approached. Lucy tried to stop him, but he shook his head and did not pause once. He could not stop or he might not be able to start again.