father on occasion, Miss Cain.”
“Are you a sailor, sir?”
“I am in shipping,” he answered, bringing a frown to Kate’s brow. She had been so eager to avoid examination that she hadn’t asked a single thing about him. Shipping. What could that mean? When she’d known him, he’d been the second son of a modest baron, with nothing to recommend him as a husband. Nothing except his wit and smile and gentle hands. Nothing except his love.
Aidan’s warm laugh filled the space around her, and Kate blinked herself back to the present.
“Coffee,” he was saying. “I’ve provided Mrs. Hamilton a shipment once or twice.”
“Oh?” Lucy chirped. “I had no idea importers provided such immaculate service, sir. I am thoroughly impressed.”
Aidan’s answering smile was all charm and affection. “May I offer my service to you now by delivering punch? Or perhaps champagne?”
“Oh, champagne!” Lucy insisted. “Thank you, Mr. York.”
His smile touched on Kate for a bare moment, and she felt it like a charged arc between them.
“Kate,” Lucy hissed as he walked toward a servant.
“My goodness. That is him, isn’t it? The man the baker’s wife saw you walking with?”
“He . . . he’s an importer, as he said,” she stammered, her lie making her words skip like stones on a river.
Lucy wisely ignored her. “He is so very handsome! And the way he looks at you . . .”
“He hardly looked at me at all.”
“Exactly. He could not bear it, Kate!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered as Aidan walked back with two glasses. “I am a married woman!”
“Ladies.” His voice was all rumbly good humor. She actually shivered at the sound of it.
“Thank you, Mr. York,” Lucy said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must greet some of our other guests. A buffet is being served in the ballroom. Perhaps you might escort Mrs. Hamilton to a table?”
Kate knocked her elbow hard against Lucy’s but the girl didn’t even wince before she walked away with an innocent smile.
Aidan offered his arm. “I have worried about the state of your stomach.”
She pressed a hand to her waist. “Pardon?”
“The war with your stove. I assume it is a drawn-out affair? The beast is clearly a hated and vicious adversary.”
“Oh.” She tried in vain to tighten her mouth against a smile. “You were not supposed to see that, and you’re horrid to bring it up.”
“On the contrary! I’m offering my support. A warrior needs her strength. Shall we approach the buffet?”
“You’re not clever,” she murmured. But he was. He always had been. So she took his arm and dipped her head so he would not see her smile.
“I saw that,” he whispered, and the softness of his words slipped along her skin. Disturbed, she concentrated on the quick glimpse of her slippers afforded by each step.
“She reminds me of you,” he said softly.
“Who?”
“Miss Cain.”
Her eyes flew wide in disbelief. “You’re mad.”
“She’s mischievous and bright. Happy.”
His words bored a hole through her breastbone, then sunk deep to settle in her belly and burn. She was relieved that they’d reached the buffet. She did not have to speak as he served her bits of the delicacies laid out on impossibly long tables. “Duck is a favorite, if I remember correctly?” he asked as he offered a large serving. Yes, he remembered correctly. She wouldn’t let that thrill her.
When they reached their seats, there were introductions to be exchanged among the other guests. Pleasantries and idle chatter, nothing she had to turn her mind to. So she could think on his ridiculous assertion that Lucy reminded him of Kate.
Did he really still see her that way? How could he? Was it because he was unchanged? In his severe black suit and white cravat, Aidan looked . . . My God, he looked beautiful. Not so much like an angel as he’d once looked though. Now he looked dangerous as Lucifer.
Had he always had that knife’s edge to his gaze?