It's Always Been You (York Family 2)

She could see him struggle with his pride for a moment before he finally gave in with an inclination of his head. “I apologize, madam. This won’t happen again.”

“It had better not. I’m aware of your tenuous situation, Mr. Fost.” His eyes widened dramatically. “You would do very well to keep me happy.”

“Of course.”

“Other distributors may not even know the difference between stable muck and arabica, but I expect to be treated as a professional.”

“Yes, yes. I can assure you, I will send only the best, the most valuable of my supply in the future. I’m grateful for your understanding.”

A stream of apologies followed her out the door.

Kate sighed as the door banged shut, leaving her in the snowy dusk. Mr. Fost was having a rough spell. One of his major buyers in Leeds had retired. It truly wasn’t her concern, not when her profit was at stake, and she refused to feel sorry for him. But he had done her a service of sorts, reminding her of why she’d started this masquerade in the first place. Without the ghost of a husband behind her, she would not be able to establish a solid footing among the men in this business. And they were all men.

It had only been wishful thinking on her part, to hope to give up her lies so soon. Kate was so wrapped up in her temper that she didn’t see Aidan until he moved away from the wall he’d leaned against. In all honesty, she’d forgotten he was there, and she felt twin jolts of alarm and joy at the sight of him.

“You didn’t have to wait,” she said quietly.

“I’ll assume that was a poor attempt at a joke.”

The snow had picked up. The world was

silent around them as she took his arm. The muffled crunch of their footsteps was the only sound in the world as they walked. And her breathing. And her pounding heart.

“I feel . . .” she started, but the words stuck in her mouth, as if they didn’t wish to emerge.

“Yes?” Aidan prompted.

“I feel I should send you away.”

“But why?”

“You know why.”

She dared a glance at him and found him scowling at the snowy street. “Don’t let the past years come between us,” he said softly.

“It’s not so simple,” she whispered. “I’ve had a whole life since then. And you don’t appear to have been living as an ascetic monk.”

She felt the jump of startled muscles in his arm. “I haven’t claimed to.”

“Lucy tells me you have your finger in everything.”

“I—I don’t—Pardon?”

“You’re no simple investor. You haven’t been quietly toiling away for the past decade. You’re a rich and powerful London gentleman now.”

She felt his fingers curve over her hand, and Kate slowed to stop. Aidan circled around until he stood in front of her. “Do you know why I’m rich, Kate?”

She shook her head. Snowflakes landed on his lips and melted there.

“Because I was determined to never be supplicant again.”

“Supplicant to whom?”

“To your father. To anyone like him.”

Kate felt the strange pain of a ghost sliding through her. “My father? You really asked him?”

The frown on his face didn’t budge. “What do you mean?”