“If I may be so bold, why is Lainey so set against marriage?” Elizabeth asked.
“She's not. But she had her heart broken a few years ago, so she's very cautious. She wants to take her time and find love that will last her a lifetime.”
“Do you not wish to have the same thing for yourself?”
“No.” There was not a hint of hesitation in his response. “No, I do not. I'm looking for intelligence. Practicality. Humor. Someone who will make me a good partner.”
“You don't believe in love, then?”
Aidan stopped and looked down at her with a sad smile. “On the contrary. I believe in all-consuming love. I just want no part of it.”
Elizabeth brows furrowed. “I don't understand.”
Aidan sighed. “My father…loved my mother with every fiber of his being. It was like she was an extension of who he was.” He resumed their slow pace around the edge of the pond, surveying the area with a distant look in his eyes as he spoke. “I still remember what it was like to see his face light up when she entered the room. When I was seventeen, she contracted scarlet fever. I watched my father cry and pray over her bed every day. When she died, she took his soul with her.” Aidan paused, fighting the tightness in his throat. His voice was rough with emotion when he continued. “Her death completely destroyed him. I watched him go from a vibrant, happy man to an empty shell that just existed for Lainey's sake and mine. The light in his eyes had been completely snuffed out. Gone were the father and man I had once known. He never recovered from her death. He held on for four years, drifting from day to day, a ghost of who he once was, a shadow in the house. I truly believe the despair of life without her is what took him in the end. Once he knew I could take care of myself…he simply let go.” He turned haunted eyes to Elizabeth. “I don't ever want to love someone like that. I fear I would never survive it.”
Elizabeth studied him for a long moment, then said simply, “What a waste.”
“How do you mean?” Aidan asked, surprised by her comment.
“Because you have so much love to give.”
Aidan halted abruptly and turned to face her. “And how do you know that?”
“It shows in everything you do,” she replied softly. “In how you treat your friends, your family…in how you’ve treated me.” She moved a step closer and rested her hand on his forearm. “There are some who would have simply paid for my treatment, but most would have walked away, because a poor woman isn't worth the effort. But you…you have taken me into your own home and given me everything I needed to get well, not because you had to, but because you felt it was right. And you bothered to get to know me. Do you have any idea what that has meant to me?” She blinked rapidly, and Aidan detected the sheen of tears in her eyes. “There are few who would have done as you did. That is the mark of a kind and loving man, and it is a shame to hide such a good heart simply because you are afraid of what might happen. We will all face loss sooner or later, and while it's true a few never recover, you are not that man. You are strong and resilient, and you will allow the love of your family and friends to get you through. Your father chose to turn his back on that. But don't blame love for his death. Love can be such a wonderful thing if you are lucky enough to find it.”
Aidan simply stared at her, rooted to his spot. He did not trust himself to speak past the lump in his throat. Her words had touched him very deeply, in a place only she seemed able to find. Somewhere deep inside, there was suddenly light where there had only been darkness, like the sun peeking through the shutters at dawn. He leaned closer, searching her face. “How do you do that?”
“Do what, my lord?”
“See right into my soul and lay me bare.”
The breeze caught a strand of her hair, dancing it around, casting a spell on Aidan. He reached out to tuck it behind her ear, and in that moment, he knew he was a man undone. “Elizabeth, I…forgive me.” Without another thought, he leaned forward and kissed her.
Her lips were as soft as the words she spoke from them. Despite her squeak of surprise, she didn't pull away. Lilac permeated the air, intoxicating him, and his heart began to race. It was a gentle embrace, but nothing he had ever experienced before was as tantalizing as this innocent kiss. He moved his mouth over hers, and felt her soften in his arms. Desire roared to life inside him, and he barely managed to restrain himself from crushing her to him in a decidedly less-innocent kiss. It was a tempting thought. Instead, he pulled back from her, his breath coming in short bursts, shocked to discover that he was trembling. Could such a simple kiss do that to a man?
Aidan looked down at her in confusion. He couldn't imagine what had made him lose control and kiss her, but now that he had, he burned to do it again. In fact, he wanted nothing more at that moment than to wrap his arms around her and kiss her senseless. Somehow, over the past month, she had utterly bewitched him.
Elizabeth was staring up at him with bewildered eyes, her lips parted in shock. Aidan managed to find his voice. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. I…I wasn't thinking,” he stammered.
Elizabeth just blinked at him, her mouth still open. She stood frozen for a moment, then blinked again, snapped her mouth shut, and moved past him. She was heading back to where they had come from, and at a much faster pace.
“Elizabeth—”
“It's all right.” She waved a hand at him in dismissal, but she didn't look back. He finally regained the feeling in his legs and chased after her. He caught up to her easily and blocked her path.
“No, it's not. Clearly I've upset you.”
“I'm fine.” She pivoted on her heel and marched back to the edge of the pond. She was obviously not fine. He gave her a moment alone before joining her at the water’s edge.
“Elizabeth.” She turned to him, a look in her eyes he couldn’t discern. “Really, I do beg your pardon. It was inappropriate of me to press my advantage. But honestly, I think I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.” That darned stray wisp of hair danced about in the breeze, taunting him. He grasped her shoulders. “Do forgive me,” he implored. He could feel her trembling. So the kiss had rattled her, too. Good.
“My lord, I—”
“Aidan. My name is Aidan.”
“I know that.”
“Let me hear you say it. Please,” he added softly.
Her eyes were huge in her face. “Aidan,” she whispered.
A thrill raced down his spine. Yes, she intoxicated him.
“Aidan,” she repeated, stronger now. “I beg you. Do not get attached to me. I must leave very soon and return to my life and you must return to yours.”
“You cannot think I am just going to let you disappear…to just go back to living as you were.”
“You must.”
“Why must I?”
“I…I cannot tell you.” She moved past him, but he caught her by the elbow.
“Tell me. Please,” he beseeched. “Tell me how to help you.” She regarded him for so long that he thought she might acquiesce. But she blinked back the tears that were forming in her eyes and shook her head.
“You are a good man, Aidan Lockwood.” And she walked away.
Chapter 17
Elizabeth was awake.
Again.
It seemed she’d hardly slept in the two days since her outing with Aidan. She had barely seen him because he’d been terribly busy with work—the season would officially start in less than a week—but she had not stopped thinking about him. About that kiss.
She hadn’t even realized how much she’d wanted it until he’d kissed her. She had sworn she would never let another man touch her, but yet, here she was, trying to stifle the yearning to be in his arms.
But it didn’t matter whether she yearned or not. She could never have him. She really couldn’t even be associated with him after she left. Their worlds were too different, her past too tarnished. Her heart was breaking at the prospect of leaving the only home she’d known in years.
But she knew it was time
to go. She was well enough. There was no reason to stay, and the longer she stayed, the more she risked bringing shame and danger to this family. She couldn’t find Betsy without getting out of the house, and she couldn’t very well ask Aidan to bring her to St. Giles. She had a quest to complete. Her parents were out there somewhere, and she would find them. She hadn’t endured eight years of poverty, near starvation, and salacious men to give up now.
Elizabeth tossed the covers off in a huff. She was clearly not going to sleep any time soon, so she might as well get a book from the library.
Aidan stood in his study pouring himself a brandy. It had been a long day. A promised shipment of silks hadn't arrived, resulting in many unhappy shopkeepers. With only one week to go before the official start of the season, he and Gavin had spent the day smoothing ruffled feathers and tamping down panic that shops wouldn't be able to fill their gown orders. He'd left the house very early this morning and arrived home well after dark—everyone had already retired for the evening. He hadn't seen Elizabeth all day.
But he hadn't stopped thinking about her for a minute. That's what bothered him, he thought, sipping his drink. It seemed that she was everywhere, no matter what he did to push her from his mind. She had definitely gotten under his skin. And he certainly hadn't been prepared for what he'd felt when he'd kissed her. It had been such a chaste kiss, yet it had shaken him to his very core.
Aidan leaned back on the velvet sofa and closed his eyes, listening to the soothing crackle of the fire and letting the brandy relax him. He lay there pondering his situation for some time, the toastiness of the fire seeping into his weary body.
It was in this vulnerable position that Elizabeth found him when she happened past the study on her way to the library. The house was dark and quiet, except for the glow coming from Aidan's study. What business could he possibly be conducting at one o’clock in the morning? She couldn't resist tiptoeing to the door to peek in. She had no idea what she would do once she got there—she had no excuse for disturbing him. But she couldn’t stop her traitorous heart from beating a little faster at the thought of seeing him.
She expected to find him sitting at his desk, scrawling something in the ledger or poring over invoices, but instead she saw him lying on the couch, his eyes closed and looking completely at peace. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or simply resting.
“Aidan?” she said softly. When she received no reply, she crept into the room. She knew she shouldn't be in his study without his permission, but she couldn't help herself. She stopped in front of the couch and whispered again. “Aidan?”
Still nothing. He was sound asleep. She wondered why he was here and not in his bedchamber. What had kept him from changing for bed? He was still in his trousers and white linen shirt, minus the ascot, the top portion of his shirt gaping open at the neck, revealing smooth skin with dark hair sprinkled across it. Elizabeth couldn't help but stare; the man was maddeningly attractive. The firelight bathed his features in a soft golden glow that only added to his mysterious air. A lock of dark hair had fallen across his forehead, and before she knew what she was doing, Elizabeth reached out to put it back in its place.
She was shocked at how soft his hair was. She had a sudden urge to run her fingers through it. He was much less intimidating when he was sleeping, which empowered Elizabeth to be bold. She lightly touched his hair at his temple while she studied his face. She noticed the line on his cheek where he had split it open on the cobblestones. She was sorry it had scarred his perfect face, yet somehow, it made him even more attractive. Why was it that every imperfection made men more attractive, yet women were expected to be flawless? It was hardly fair.
She continued her perusal, and decided she definitely liked what she saw. Even in his relaxed state, she could see that he had well-formed muscles under his shirt. She wondered what he did to keep his body in such fine condition.
One of his hands was draped across his stomach, the other lying face up by his side. Elizabeth knelt down and examined it. She knew his palm was smooth and warm, and that its touch could send tingles down her spine. She wondered if men had the same reaction to a simple caress. She bent closer to study the lines in his palm. The pleasing aroma of sandalwood and brandy tickled her nose.
She ached to thread her fingers through his, to feel that reassuring strength surround her. She had sworn off men years ago, but somehow…somehow he was different. He made her want to believe that he was all he appeared to be. She wanted to trust him. But could she? Could she go against everything she had learned and actually trust a man? No, she couldn't. At least, not until she figured out if Gavin really had anything to do with her family's death…she knew his was the voice she'd heard that awful night so long ago, but he seemed so genuine and gentle…did Gavin really have it in him to murder a family? And why hadn’t he recognized her? Was he waiting for the right moment to make himself known to her? The pieces of the puzzle just didn't quite fit, and she couldn’t risk telling Aidan the truth until she knew for sure if she was mistaken.
Elizabeth absently reached out one finger and softly traced a line in Aidan's palm. She marveled at how his hands were always warm.
“Keep doing that and I can't be held responsible for my actions.”
Elizabeth cried out and shot to her feet, losing her balance. She stumbled backwards toward the fireplace. Aidan was on his feet in an instant, making a grab for her, but she stepped on the hem of her robe and landed with a thud at the edge of the hearth. Aidan reached for her, and she cringed. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head, waiting for the explosion of pain across her jaw.
Only it never came.
She cracked open one eye and peeked fearfully at Aidan. He was still standing over her, his hand outstretched, palm up, completely frozen in place. She opened both eyes and registered the look of horror on his face, and she belatedly realized that he had only been trying to prevent her from getting hurt. Guilt flooded her, and looked away.
“You thought I was going to strike you,” he said quietly. His wounded expression was a dagger to her heart.
Elizabeth hated herself, hated that her past experiences had made her jump to that conclusion. “I am trespassing in your private study. I entered without your permission.”
“You didn't even protect yourself,” he said incredulously, still frozen. “You just waited for it.”
Elizabeth squirmed under his gaze. “It happened a lot,” she finally admitted. “It ended faster if I didn't fight back.”
Aidan looked ill. “I'm sorry I frightened you.”
“I disturbed you,” she replied quietly, staring at the floor.
“You weren't disturbing me. I was rather enjoying it.” He let his hand fall to his side. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she replied softly, turning liquid eyes to him. “But you are.”
Aidan sighed and moved to sit beside her. “Whatever you have suffered in your past will shape your future, Elizabeth. I cannot fault you for your fears. I can only hope that I can somehow help allay them.”
He covered her hand with his, offering her reassurance with his touch. Elizabeth’s heart ached. The image of his hurt-filled eyes burned in her mind, the look of horror on his face when he realized what she had thought of him for just a moment. How could she have even thought…
“I'm sorry, Aidan,” she whispered. “It was just a reaction. I didn't mean to offend you.”
“I know.” His eyes burned into hers, and she wasn't sure if it was the heat of the fire or the heat of his gaze that was causing the flood of warmth coursing through her body. “I promise you, Elizabeth,” he said softly, reaching out to lay his palm against her cheek. “When my hand touches your face, it will always be like this.” He moved his fingers to brush just under her earlobe, feathering his thumb back and forth across her cheek. It was enough to make her weep. A single tear slid out from underneath her lashes and wended its way down her cheek.
“Oh, Elizabeth. Please don't cry. I can't bea
r it.” He wiped the tear away and tucked his knuckle under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me why you're crying.”
Elizabeth shrugged, blinking back the other tears that threatened to come. “I don't know,” she choked out against the tightness in her throat.
“Do you think I'm angry with you?”
“No. Maybe. I don't know. It's just that I…I upset you. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”
“I know that.” He tucked the ever-present stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “You don't have it in you.”
Elizabeth allowed herself to bask in his caress. For the first time since they'd met, there was not a molecule in her body that wanted to shrink away from him. She searched his face, the glow from the fire highlighting the tiny golden flecks in his eyes, eyes that held nothing but compassion. She knew now that she had been an absolute fool. He had proven himself time and time again, but she had stubbornly refused to acknowledge that she could trust him not to hurt her. The only thing this man wanted to do was help her get back on her feet. She sighed inwardly. When had she become such a coward?
She again found the scar that she had accidentally given him, and she tentatively reached out to touch it. “I'm sorry I did that to you.”
“I'm not,” Aidan said, his voice husky. “The alternative would have been much worse.”
She ran her finger along the scar, and Aidan closed his eyes, leaning into her soft caress.
“Elizabeth?”
“What?”
But he didn’t answer her. Never opening his eyes, he tipped forward until his lips found her neck. He brushed them up to her earlobe, eliciting a small gasp. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, dragging his lips across her jaw now, dropping kisses onto her sensitive skin.
Elizabeth was delirious. She knew she should make some sort of objection, but the power of speech had completely deserted her. Every inch of her skin tingled, her breath shallow. She was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her ears, because it was deafening her. Never before had she known a touch so gentle, nor so tantalizing. It frightened her beyond comprehension.
All That I Am: A Victorian Historical Romance (The Hesitant Husbands Series Book 1) Page 11