Read Online It's Always Been You by Victoria Dahl - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Victoria Dahl
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realization had sunk into his bones, he’d only become more dissolute.
The guilt and the drink had nearly killed him. And then a cousin in France had proposed a partnership. He’d needed an English contact, and Aidan had needed . . . what? To prove himself? Certainly the idea of making a fortune had appealed to his sense of revenge. Kate’s father had rejected Aidan’s suit because he’d had no means to support a wife. Or her family, in retrospect.
So he’d gone to France, drawn by a desire to show Kate’s father up and, if truth be told, by the idea of drowning his sorrows in Frenchwomen for a time. Eventually, he’d found that he could drown his sorrows in business, as well. That deal had saved him. But not his soul. Not his conscience.
After a time, it hadn’t been Katie he’d grieved for, but the man he’d meant to be. He’d betrayed himself with his actions.
When he reached the fourth floor, Aidan was happy for the dimness. It helped alleviate the sudden stark fear that Kate would find out what kind of man he’d become. But no. No, her own desire for privacy would protect his secrets. And who would ever tell her?
He lit the lantern that hung on a nail on the wall, then opened the door to the attic stairs. Once he reached the warm, dusty black of the attic itself, he turned up the wick on the lamp. Narrow trails snaked through the boxes and crates, leaving little room to maneuver. Thankfully, he found his chests stacked near the door, as if they had awaited him all this time.
The top chest contained nothing but old clothes as far as he could tell. When he lifted the lid of the bottom one though, he found what he’d been looking for. Nestled among the books and papers lay a large wooden box, carved with his initials. He hesitated a moment, watching the box with a wary look, as if it might lash out and injure him. He’d purposefully packed it away to remove the temptation of revisiting his memories of her. Blowing out a long breath that sent dust motes dancing wildly, he took the box from its coffin, set it on a crate, and opened the lid.
It was all there, the pitiful leavings of his secret time with Kate. Twelve letters—lavender paper covered with her looping script. A tiny white lace handkerchief that had once smelled tormentingly of her perfume. A pressed flower she had included with a note. And there, underneath it all, the thing he’d come here for.
The heavy gold pocket watch had been her grandfather’s, she’d told him as she pressed it into his hand. She’d given it to Aidan as a pledge of love, bidding him hold it for her until their marriage. He still remembered the way his fingers had shaken as they closed around it. They’d just made love for the first time, both of them nervous and overwhelmed with emotion as they gave their innocence to each other.
Jesus, they’d been fools. Certain, as only young people can be, that the world would genuflect before their love. Only a month later they’d been shouting at each other in frustration, helpless in the face of her father’s refusal.
And then she’d been gone.
Every day for a year Aidan had carried this damned watch over his heart until he’d finally grown so disgusted with his own grief that he’d packed everything away in this box and never looked at it again. Until now.
Slipping the watch into his breast pocket, feeling the familiar weight settle against his chest, Aidan made his way out of the attic with a grim smile. He now had the perfect excuse to see Kate again, whether she wanted him to return or not.
Chapter 10
“My husband will be arriving soon enough,” Kate said past clenched teeth, turning her back on Gulliver Wilson to resume dusting the coffee bins.
“It’s inappropriate for you to remain alone so long,” he grumbled.
Kate let her mouth fall open with shock at his impudence, though in truth she wasn’t shocked at all. “Really, Mr. Wilson, you are being utterly inappropriate. It is hardly your place to
The guilt and the drink had nearly killed him. And then a cousin in France had proposed a partnership. He’d needed an English contact, and Aidan had needed . . . what? To prove himself? Certainly the idea of making a fortune had appealed to his sense of revenge. Kate’s father had rejected Aidan’s suit because he’d had no means to support a wife. Or her family, in retrospect.
So he’d gone to France, drawn by a desire to show Kate’s father up and, if truth be told, by the idea of drowning his sorrows in Frenchwomen for a time. Eventually, he’d found that he could drown his sorrows in business, as well. That deal had saved him. But not his soul. Not his conscience.
After a time, it hadn’t been Katie he’d grieved for, but the man he’d meant to be. He’d betrayed himself with his actions.
When he reached the fourth floor, Aidan was happy for the dimness. It helped alleviate the sudden stark fear that Kate would find out what kind of man he’d become. But no. No, her own desire for privacy would protect his secrets. And who would ever tell her?
He lit the lantern that hung on a nail on the wall, then opened the door to the attic stairs. Once he reached the warm, dusty black of the attic itself, he turned up the wick on the lamp. Narrow trails snaked through the boxes and crates, leaving little room to maneuver. Thankfully, he found his chests stacked near the door, as if they had awaited him all this time.
The top chest contained nothing but old clothes as far as he could tell. When he lifted the lid of the bottom one though, he found what he’d been looking for. Nestled among the books and papers lay a large wooden box, carved with his initials. He hesitated a moment, watching the box with a wary look, as if it might lash out and injure him. He’d purposefully packed it away to remove the temptation of revisiting his memories of her. Blowing out a long breath that sent dust motes dancing wildly, he took the box from its coffin, set it on a crate, and opened the lid.
It was all there, the pitiful leavings of his secret time with Kate. Twelve letters—lavender paper covered with her looping script. A tiny white lace handkerchief that had once smelled tormentingly of her perfume. A pressed flower she had included with a note. And there, underneath it all, the thing he’d come here for.
The heavy gold pocket watch had been her grandfather’s, she’d told him as she pressed it into his hand. She’d given it to Aidan as a pledge of love, bidding him hold it for her until their marriage. He still remembered the way his fingers had shaken as they closed around it. They’d just made love for the first time, both of them nervous and overwhelmed with emotion as they gave their innocence to each other.
Jesus, they’d been fools. Certain, as only young people can be, that the world would genuflect before their love. Only a month later they’d been shouting at each other in frustration, helpless in the face of her father’s refusal.
And then she’d been gone.
Every day for a year Aidan had carried this damned watch over his heart until he’d finally grown so disgusted with his own grief that he’d packed everything away in this box and never looked at it again. Until now.
Slipping the watch into his breast pocket, feeling the familiar weight settle against his chest, Aidan made his way out of the attic with a grim smile. He now had the perfect excuse to see Kate again, whether she wanted him to return or not.
Chapter 10
“My husband will be arriving soon enough,” Kate said past clenched teeth, turning her back on Gulliver Wilson to resume dusting the coffee bins.
“It’s inappropriate for you to remain alone so long,” he grumbled.
Kate let her mouth fall open with shock at his impudence, though in truth she wasn’t shocked at all. “Really, Mr. Wilson, you are being utterly inappropriate. It is hardly your place to
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