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For a moment, when he looked at the petite blond woman, he did not place her. Her face did not prompt even a quiver of recognition in his brain.
“I tried to catch your attention at dinner, but I never could,” she said with a smile that was patently false.
The smile did it. Now he knew her. He drew in a breath with such slow care that his head spun as he stepped into the corridor. “Lady Sarah. This is a surprise. What could possibly bring you to Hull?”
“My husband wished to stop and see an old friend before we move on to Bath. You remember my husband, Lord Quentin Meeks?” She gestured toward the man beside her, but he was already moving away, busily discussing railroad development with another gentleman. A good thing, as the only thing Aidan could recall about Lord Quentin was that his wife had laughed about him while Aidan took her. She’d crowed that her husband’s cock was half the size of Aidan’s and only a third as hard.
That was why Aidan had found it difficult to place her face. She’d only wanted it from behind that night, and he’d never contacted her again. Cuckolding another gentleman was one kind of cruelty. Joining in laughter about it was another.
“And you, Mr. York? What brings you here?”
He glanced past her toward the other guests. The men filed into the billiards room; the women strolled to the drawing room farther on. Kate was among them, but he thanked God he couldn’t see her. Or did that mean she still lingered in the dining room and would stumble upon them at any moment? He felt the blood leeching from his face, felt his head grow lighter.
“Shipping, of course,” he murmured, his lips numb as he spoke. “I have several investments here.”
He barely knew this woman whose eyes swept down him, but he had a terrible fear that their connection was visible to others. That a reminder of that night still clung to them, the foul threads visible now that they stood so close.
Aidan cleared his throat. “What a happy accident, to see you here so far from London.”
“Yes.” She watched him past her lashes just as Kate had done before. His panic turned to nausea and shame. What if Kate saw them? What if his past was revealed to her in all its ugliness?
Ridiculous, of course. Lady Sarah would say nothing to Kate. She would say nothing to anybody. How could she? He forced an easy smile and gave a bow. “I apologize for rushing away after such a fortuitous meeting, but I must catch Monsieur Blanc before he leaves or he will conveniently forget the deal we struck over wine earlier.”
“Oh,” she said, her smile slipping a bit. “Of course.”
“Please have a safe journey to Bath. And convey my well wishes to your husband.”
“I will.”
Aidan walked down the corridor as if he were determined but unconcerned. He pretended that a bead of sweat wasn’t snaking down his te
mple when he passed the drawing room and continued around the corner to the washroom at the end of the hall. But once there, he closed the door and leaned against it, hanging his head and letting his breath shudder out.
All these women he’d had . . . Kate wouldn’t understand that. How could she?
Heat washed over him with such force that his ears felt afire. In Kate’s bed, he’d forgotten his life for a moment. He’d forgotten how little he cared for himself and others. He was not the boy she’d loved, and he wasn’t a man she would love either, if she ever found out.
“She won’t,” he said aloud, trying to calm himself. These were not things one spoke of in polite company. This was not something a woman would tell another. Aidan York has had me on my knees a dozen times over. What did you do with him?
“She won’t find out,” he said again, finding the strength to push away from the door. Leaning over the sink, he turned on the tap and let cold water fill his hands. That felt such a relief that he lowered his face into the pool he’d created and let the icy water numb his skin.
By the time he dried his face on a towel, he felt nearly normal, though he wished for a full bath, wished to wash away the last threads of shame that clung to him. But he was recovered enough to step into the hallway with an easy air. He did not even break into a sweat when he turned the corner and found Kate there, speaking with Lucy and adjusting her cloak around her shoulders.
“Ladies,” he said easily as he passed them. Kate gave only a polite smile. She was going home in the Cain carriage, so Aidan knew she would be safe. He would leave later so as not to arouse suspicion.
Earlier, he’d dreaded having to count down the minutes in the billiards room, but now he was simply relieved to have a sure escape from Lady Sarah. He proceeded straight to the corner of the room farthest from her husband and closest to the clock. Twenty minutes should suffice, and then he could lose himself with Kate again, and forget the tragedy he’d made of his life. He could be a young man again, instead of a hollowed out shell.
Chapter 17
“There’s snow in your hair, poor thing,” Kate said as he slipped from the icy damp of the alley into the warm box of her kitchen. She reached for him to brush the snow away, and Aidan closed his eyes at the pleasure of being touched.
“I made some tea. I know how the cold affects you.”
Aidan growled at her coy smile. “Will you view me as weak forever? That day was ridiculously cold, and you were the only person mad enough to want to be outside.”
“So sensitive, Mr. York. Have I injured your pride?”
“Perhaps. I plan to take it out of your hide at a later date.”
