Heaven Scent (11 page)

“Actually,” he said, turning onto
Chestnut Street, “I’ve got my eye on Tarin Worthington.”

Shoulders sagging, Isabel shook her
head. “Oh Rafe, you never could make anything easy for yourself.”
She sighed. “I could see the attraction between you two right away
and frankly, it shocked me.”

His gut twisted in sick confirmation.
“You don’t think she could tolerate someone that looks like
me?”

“No,” she cried, her sympathetic eyes
shooting to his. “Not because of your scars, Rafe. She has never
wanted to marry. Many men have asked to court her, including
Patrick, but she has refused them all.” She squeezed his hand where
it held the reins. “You have been hurt enough in this life. I don’t
want to see you endure more.”

If Rafe had learned one thing, it was
that preparation for the worst made the worst far less devastating
when it happened. He knew what he was getting into with
Worthington. He also knew the risks, and the rewards, should he
succeed.

What ate at him was that Tarin wouldn’t
get that advantage. If he succeeded, she would marry a man that
repulsed her, a man that had entered into a blackmail bargain for
her hand in order to save his family.

She would be cheated out of so many
things. And all for the selfish motives of her father and
Rafe.

“Can you live with a wife that wants to
be a doctor? It’s very unorthodox.”

“Mother,” he replied, “I’ve lived an
unorthodox life for the last ten years. I can handle an ambitious
wife.”

“I know. I just want you to marry for
love, Rafe. To be happy as I was with your father.”

Rafe stilled. “You were happy with
father?”

Sighing, Isabel’s smile was sad. “I
loved him madly, Rafe. Wasn’t it obvious?”

All Rafe remembered was Colin’s
drinking and womanizing. Had his mother really been blind to it
all? Or was she the type of wife that looked the other
way?

“I miss him so much, Rafe.” She dabbed
at her eyes with her pinky. “Did you know,” she said with a watery
smile, “that he was looking for a house in Atlanta for us? I
traveled with him on one of his trips down the coast and instantly
fell in love with the city. We had hoped to keep a winter home
there.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “But he died before he
could find one that suited us.”

What the hell? His father
had a house in Atlanta,
along with a wife
and young daughter
. What was he thinking?
To keep both wives in the same city? Or, had he met his new wife
while he spent time in Atlanta searching? That would explain why he
never presented it to Isabel.

The bastard.

Rafe stopped the carriage in front of
their house. “Once the business settles in again, we’ll take a trip
down there and look for a house. If nothing else, we’ll build
one.”

Shaking her head, Isabel gave him a
watery smile. “It wouldn’t be the same, son. Atlanta was something
I wanted to share with Colin.” She added, “Do not worry. I will be
content as long as you and Patrick are here. And you know I thrive
on Brahmin balls and events. Speaking of, do you plan to escort
Tarin to the Cabot ball?”

“I do,” he replied, knowing his
conviction was in vain.

“You sound confident for a man in
pursuit of a woman that does not want to be pursued.”

He laughed. “I didn’t say it would be
easy.”

She was going to fight him all the way.
That was a given.

But he prepared for battle. “As a
matter of fact, I expect a fight to rival the Mexican American
War.”

#######

“Tarin…” Kitty announced,
as she thumbed through her
Godey’s Lady’s
Book
, “as your friend, I feel I am entitled
to certain privileges regarding your… matters of the
heart.”

Tarin stilled her spoon in her china
cup. She glanced across the parlor where Kitty sat in the cream
Chippendale wing chair. “What in heaven’s name are you talking
about?”

Kitty cocked an eyebrow. “Why Rafe
Sutherland, of course.”

Tarin prayed the guilt that stopped her
heart was not reflected in her face. However, when Kitty tried to
hide her smile behind a napkin, Tarin knew she must look
comical.

Blast it.

“What of him?” Tarin asked, swallowing
hard. She sat forward on the sofa and lifted her chin.

“I can’t believe you allowed me to
carry on about him as though he were part of a museum display when
all along you had… personal knowledge of his
attributes.”

“Kitty, that sounds horrid.
I do not have personal knowledge of…” -
Oh, blast
- “
all
of his attributes.”

Kitty gasped as she sat
forward, the book falling to the Oriental rug. “Aha! So you
have
kept something from
me.”

“Nothing of significance,” Tarin cried.
“Besides the seminar last evening, Father and I were his guests for
dinner, and he walked me to Mrs. Winthrop’s home.” Her face
reddened. “That is all.”

Could Kitty tell she was
lying?
Lying
, for
pity’s sake. Tarin had always considered herself an honorable
person yet, here she was being dishonest with her best friend. What
had this man done to her?

“I would think you’d be more interested
in what I heard at the seminar than what I know of Rafe
Sutherland.” Tarin picked up her teacup and took a healthy drink of
rum-laced tea. Her father’s imports certainly came in handy on
certain occasions.

“We’ll get to that,” Kitty said,
sipping at her own tea. “This is much more interesting.”

“We are on the verge of seeing our
dreams come to fruition, Kit. We have well-qualified instructors
lined up, facilities available, and connections in the legislature.
We have lived our lives for this time. Yet, you tell me that you‘d
rather know how well I‘m acquainted with Rafe
Sutherland?”

“Yes!”

“I cannot believe this.” She shook her
head. “You know I have no desire to get involved with a
man.”

“Yet, you find this one attractive.”
Kitty pursed her lips.

Tarin stilled. She felt as though she
were undergoing a Scotland Yard inquisition. “You act as though I
am interested in him. I am not. Besides,” Tarin lowered her voice.
“I am only the daughter of a merchant with whom he can conduct
business.”

She was not fool enough to think her
family‘s wealth held no incentive for potential suitors. That
knowledge, along with her desire to become a physician, made the
idea of a loving marriage virtually impossible.

Kitty held her gaze. “How
do you know he is not attracted to you?” she countered. “Perhaps
Rafe is self conscious of his scars and believes you would not be
interested.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Tarin, you are
used to men fawning over you. Perhaps, Mr. Sutherland is interested
but not so easily distracted. He is just returning to life and a
business he has not been a part of for ten years.
P
erhaps his distractions
call for unusual measures.”

Studying her friend, Tarin
shook her head. “You are not saying
I
should pursue
him
…” She reached for her cup
again.

“Well… not so much pursue as… notify
him you would welcome his advances.”

“Kitty,” Tarin cried.

“Well, you would, wouldn’t
you?”

Tarin’s face heated before she sliced
her hand through the air. “No. Absolutely not. I must stay focused
on my goals.” She glared at Kitty. “And you are not helping me do
so.”

“Come now, Tarin,” Kitty said with a
sly lilt in her voice, “I saw you eying him like some of Mrs.
Miller’s taffy. Not to mention, you’ve obviously had a previous
encounter with him that is too shameless to reveal, otherwise you
would have told me by now.”

Gasping, Tarin’s eyes rounded. “You are
horrid.”

“I thought she only referred to me with
that word.”

Tarin’s heart jumped to her throat as
she groaned mentally. Whipping her head around, she saw Rafe
leaning against the doorjamb, looking much too wild for the
conservative clothes he wore. In a snug-fitting vest and brown,
pinstripe trousers, he filled the doorway, his shoulders nearly
touching the frame on either side. The crisp white cravat at his
neck was tied perfectly, his thick, dark hair swept back off his
face. As usual, he wore no coat but graced them with a smile that
made her knees weak.

Heaven, please tell her he
didn’t hear their conversation.

“Mr. Sutherland,” Kitty announced, “I’m
afraid Tarin is much more liberal with her adjectives than you
think.”

Tarin glared at Kitty. The man had the
nerve to laugh.

Kitty rose to greet him. “She saves the
special ones for her closest friends.”

“Well then, I must be very special,” he
remarked, his dark eyes twinkling.

Special wasn’t quite the
word she’d use.

“I should toss out the both of
you.”

“What? And ruin this little gala?” He
picked up the bottle of rum on the center table as he sat beside
Tarin on the sofa. “What‘s the occasion?”

Goosebumps sprouted on Tarin’s arm
where his sleeve brushed hers. Already his scent of spice and soap,
along with a surprising touch of roses, filled the room, bringing
on a dizziness she was sure had nothing to do with the
liquor.

“Thanks to you,” she said,
gazing at his dark, chiseled profile, “we gained two very
important,
male
,
petition signatures today.” She couldn’t help but return the grin
he graced on her. “We also gained unanimous approval from the
attendees today - including your mother.” She blushed under his
close scrutiny. “It was a good day for us.”

“Yes,” Kitty added with a smile, “we
thought the measure called for some of Lord Worthington’s imported
rum.”

“Would you like some?” Tarin asked, as
she set down her saucer.

His grin was breathtaking. “No man
turns away good rum.”

Rather than waiting, Rafe reached past
Tarin and picked up her cup. His dark eyes watched her as he raised
it to his lips and drank, taking his time as he slowly drained the
meager contents. The movement of his Adam’s apple drew her eyes
like a beacon, the strong column of his neck tanned and muscled.
Tarin felt a shiver run through her as he lowered the empty cup to
her saucer.

“It tastes like you,” he said, his
voice deep and velvety soft. “Sweet, but filled with
fire.”

Tarin jumped up from her seat. Oh no,
he was not going to pull her into his web again. “I have been
called many things,” she said, moving to the fireplace, “but no one
has ever called me sweet.”

He rose to face her. “No one has tasted
you like I have,” he countered, as Kitty conspicuously slipped from
the room.

The traitor.

Tarin had to stop this now before it
got out of hand. “Your arrogance knows no bounds, Mr.
Sutherland.”

Rafe’s jaw hardened. Tarin swallowed as
her eyes met his glittering irises in a heated deadlock.

“You’ve allowed other men to kiss you
like I have?”

His nearness caused her heart to race.
She took a deep breath and told him the truth. “Many have…
tried.”

His eyes were fierce. “But didn’t
succeed because you had no ulterior motive? No need for something
of your own gain?”

She ignored the burning sting of his
claim. “That is not why I kissed you. And I cannot believe you
would accuse me of such brazenness.”

“Accuse
you? You wouldn’t have kissed me
otherwise.”

“Why would I? You have no interest in
me as a woman. I am only Henry Worthington’s daughter. A means to
your own gain.”

Stilling, he stared at her, a flush
blooming on his face. Rafe glanced away, shaking his head. He
laughed to himself as his eyes turned back to her.

“Why do you laugh? Is that not why you
are here this evening? To discuss business with my
father?”

“Yes, that’s true,” he replied with a
brief nod. “But I’m laughing because you’re naïve, Tarin. There
isn’t a man with breath in his body that wouldn’t be attracted to
you.”

Naïve? Tarin clenched her fist until
her fingernails dug into her palm. The man could irritate her with
the least amount of effort.

“Oh yes, I’ve had my fill of men that
want my money, my status, and my body. Men that don’t give a wit
about me, who I am inside, what I want out of life.” She exhaled,
wondering why she even bothered saying it. Why she felt she could
say such things to Rafe.

He stared at her a long moment, his
dark, dark eyes studying her. Tarin met his gaze, lifting her chin
in challenge.

“As I recall,” he said, taking a step
towards her.

Tarin caught her breath. She took a
step back.