Heaven Scent (19 page)

Rafe hoped like hell there was another
story there.

Picking up his cards again, Beau
perused them. “Then again, if you keep gaining merchants like
McAllister, you may not need Worthington.”

A false sense of relief settled on
Rafe’s shoulders. To court Tarin without the deal hanging over his
head would be damned nice.

Then it hit him. He
wanted
to court Tarin
Worthington. With or without the deal. He enjoyed his time with
her. She made him feel alive, made him feel like a king when she
smiled at him with hunger in those emerald cat eyes of
hers.

Shaking his head mentally, Rafe told
himself it was just about bedding her. She was the only woman he
desired these days and he had been without a woman for months. If
he could just have her once, Rafe was sure she would be wiped from
his system and he would again look at this as a business
proposition.

He wasn’t fool enough to actually fall
in love with the stubborn woman.

Chapter 11

The gown was beautiful, Tarin had to
admit, as she studied her appearance in the acanthus leaf, mahogany
mirror. The gold satin with gold, iridescent overlay shimmered in
the abundant candlelight Kit had scattered throughout Tarin’s
bedroom. The color brought out golden highlights in her copper
hair, and gave her pale skin a touch of color.

Draped off her shoulders, the gathered
bodice dipped scandalously low in the front to narrow at her waist,
before flaring out into a wide, full skirt. The web of diamonds at
her throat stopped short of the full cleavage nearly bursting from
her corset.

Her father was right - if ever a dress
had been designed to entice a man, she wore it.

“Do not bend over,” Kit said from
behind, as she draped a strand of diamonds in Tarin’s upswept hair,
“or you may find yourself completely exposed to the Cabot’s
guests.”

Tarin laughed as she clasped diamond,
teardrop earrings to her lobes. “I fear you may be right. Thank
goodness I do not have to curtsy.”

“Although,” Kitty added, as she circled
Tarin to continue her weave, “I am sure Rafe would be more than
happy to help you, should the need arise.”

Tarin stiffened as heat suffused her
cheeks. The week since she had last seen Rafe had been the most
despondent of her adult life. She told herself it was just part of
the separation process and she had to adjust to life without
him.

“
Kit, you know I plan to
avoid him tonight.”

Kitty met her eyes in the mirror.
“Don’t tell me he is not the reason you have worn this dress,” she
said softly. “You are in love with him, regardless of what you tell
yourself.”

Tarin dropped her gaze. Yes, she was in
love with him. This week away from his company had confirmed that
beyond doubt.

“Does it show?” she whispered, as she
studied the toe of the gold slipper peeking out from the hem of her
dress.

Kit stepped back to inspect
her handy work in the mirror. “Only to me because I know you so
well.” She patted a stray curl in Tarin’s hair. “What I don’t
understand is
why
you avoid him. Any other woman would die for the chance to be
courted by the man she loves.”

“I know,” Tarin admitted, meeting her
gaze in the mirror. “At times I wonder what in heaven’s name I am
doing and in the next, I have convinced myself that the distance is
for the best.”

Kitty hugged Tarin to her side. “I know
you‘re confused. But do you really want to live the rest of your
life wondering what could have been?”

There was the rub. Was her love for
Rafe worth the risk of destruction? What if they courted and he
found he didn’t want her or, chose to leave Boston
again?

What if he wanted her only
for her family‘s money? Though she didn’t believe it, the thought
was never far from her mind. It was such a common intent with her
potential suitors that to allow the one she
did
want the luxury of doubt, made
her uneasy.

Then again, could a man that kissed her
like it was a gift from God be that shallow?

“Kit, when you say things
like that, it makes me want to ask
him
for courtship.”

Laughing, Kitty hugged her again.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

A knock sounded at the door. Tarin
turned from the mirror. “Yes, Hobbs?”

“A message for you, Lady Worthington,”
he said through the heavy oak.

Her full skirts swishing, Tarin made
her way to the door and swung it open. The butler’s sudden,
open-mouthed gaze surprised her. “Hobbs, what is it?”

He handed her an envelope as he quickly
composed himself. “May I say, my lady, that you look positively
radiant tonight.”

Heat warmed her face. “Why, thank you,
Hobbs.” She started to close the door.

“Mr. Sutherland will be most likely
tongue-tied tonight, my lady.”

Tarin stilled. He turned and walked
away.

A rush of excitement filled her stomach
as she shut the door. Though Tarin knew the butler was partial to
her, the thought of Rafe admiring her from across the ballroom made
Tarin’s heart leap in her chest.

“What does the message say?” Kit asked,
as Tarin opened the envelope.

Stopping in the middle of the room,
Tarin scanned the note. As the words settled inside her head, the
pounding of her heart increased. She felt a smile split her face to
near breaking.

“We have enough petition signatures,
Kit! Dr. Gregory says he will take them to the legislature on
Thursday!”

Screams erupted in the room as they
hugged each other tight. Holding hands, they danced in a circle
until Tarin grew dizzy. Laughing, they dropped to the
bed.

“Careful, or we will have to start all
over on your hair,” Kit said, sounding out of breath.

“I cannot believe it.” Tarin rushed
over to the mirror to check her hair. Color brightened her cheeks,
her eyes sparkling with exhilaration. “With the connections Dr.
Kent and Dr. Gregory have in the legislature, we are sure to get
their approval. We could be in school by the fall.”

Kit followed to check a section of
diamonds that had fallen. “I know,” she replied, her voice
high-pitched. “We could be delivering babies by next
spring.”

Pulling on her white, elbow-length
gloves, words spewed from Tarin’s mouth before she could stop them.
“I cannot wait to tell Rafe. He will be happy to hear his purchase
of the Longfellow medical library was not in vain.”

Kitty laughed. “You have done nothing
but read those books since he bought them for you.”

One book in particular had held her
complete attention. She had not been able to put it
down.

Besides,” Kit added, standing back to
smile at Tarin in the mirror, “he will just be happy to receive
attention from you. I fear your father will have his hands full
holding off the mob of admiring suitors, begging for a
dance.”

There would never be competition for
Rafe, Tarin admitted to herself. He was firmly ingrained in her
fragile heart.

Turning to smile at Kit,
Tarin clutched her friend’s hands in hers. “I wish you were going
with me. I
will
get you to attend a Brahmin ball yet, Katherine
Hamilton.”

“What? And spend the entire evening
alone in the corner while you are surrounded by handsome, rich
suitors?” Her smile was woeful. “Your retelling tomorrow will be as
though I had been there.”

Frowning, Tarin said, “You would have
more than your fair share of suitors, Kit. You are
beautiful.”

“But poor.” Sighing, she stepped away
to hold Tarin’s arms out for an inspection. “Although I would pay a
ninepence to be your shadow this evening. I have a feeling you are
in for an adventure.”

######

“I hope your disposition this evening
is better than it has been this past week.”

Frowning at his mother beside him, Rafe
glanced at Beau, Patrick and Rosa sitting across the coach cab.
They all stared at him with wide, expectant eyes, as though they
waited for him to pounce.

“Do not worry about the family’s
Brahmin reputation, Mother. I will be nothing but
courteous.”

Sighing aloud, she patted his arm.
“That statement alone proves you speak a falsehood. I only ask that
you enjoy yourself, son. There will be people in attendance that
have not seen you in ten years and are anxious to speak with
you.”

Rafe gritted his teeth. The only person
he wanted to see was Tarin. Even if only across the room. He had
not called on her all week in the hopes she would actually miss
him, change her mind, and send word requesting a visit.

Fat lot of good that did
him.

“He will be fine, Isabel,” Beau said,
his voice tinged with humor. “There isn’t an ailment in existence
that a few drinks and a lovely woman can’t cure.” He winked at
her.

Rafe scowled. Damned
Frenchman. He hadn’t uncovered anything on Kent or Worthington this
week,
and
he was
making light of his situation with Tarin.

Rosa took that moment to
stare down her nose at Rafe. She looked beautiful tonight in the
pale yellow gown his mother had selected for her. Though she had
spent most of the past week avoiding him, when she
had
been forced to endure
his company, she had shot knives at him with her eyes.

So, it surprised him when she latched
onto his arm once they got inside the door of the Cabot home. Her
eyes were round in her face, her hand shaking where it rested on
his forearm.

A Brahmin ball overwhelmed those who
were used to them. He couldn’t imagine what was going through the
mind of a woman used to life in Texas.

“All will be well, Rosa,” he said,
trying to console her. “Just stay close to one of us.”

She gave him a shaky nod as they
followed the others into the ballroom.

The roar of conversation assaulted Rafe
like a gale force wind. Music struggled to be heard over the voices
of Boston’s elite, the strong mesh of perfumes battering his
nostrils. Though he could see the two sets of balcony doors were
opened, the heat of the candlelit chandeliers made him tug at his
cravat. Either he’d spend most of his evening out of doors or the
damned cravat was coming off.He stopped short when Isabel, with a
knowing gleam in her eye, snatched away Rosa and disappeared into
the crowd. His mother knew he wanted to see Tarin and Rosa could
only cause complications.

Trying to catch Beau and Patrick, Rafe
wound his way through the sea of bodies. Within seconds, he found
himself stopped by curious guests wanting introductions or old
acquaintances wanting stories of his time in Texas. He couldn’t
help but notice the change in the ladies’ expressions when he
happened to turn his left cheek. Where once they gazed at him in
appreciation, their eyes soon turned wide with sickening
shock.

Rafe expected as much.

Of course, it only took the Brahmin
ladies - both single and married - minutes to discover St. John. He
and Patrick shared an audience Rafe had once commanded
himself.

Now, he just wanted to find
Tarin.

Using his height to advantage, Rafe
looked out over the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of
copper-colored hair. He couldn’t see a damned thing for the crowd
of men that spilled out into the dance floor.

Excusing himself, he made his way to
his brother’s side. “Where can I find Tarin?”

Patrick didn’t bother to turn away from
the bevy of beauties fluttering their eyelashes at him. “Just look
for the crowd.”

Rafe frowned. “What do you mean, ‘the
crowd?’ The room is filled with ‘the crowd.’”

Sighing, Patrick glanced up to look
around the room. Stretching to see beyond the women in front of
him, he dropped back on his heels. “That crowd on the dance floor.
That’s Tarin.”

A knot tightened his chest as Rafe
looked out at the group again, then back to his brother. “What the
hell do you mean?”

His brother looked at him as though he
were one card short of a winning hand. “Those are suitors, Rafe.
All vying for her attention. Her dance card is surely full by
now.”

What the hell?

At that moment, the crowd parted as
though someone had torn it in two. Spotting Tarin at the far end,
Rafe felt a punch to his stomach that nearly doubled him
over.

Good God above, she was exquisite.
Diamonds glittered in her upswept hair, competing with the light in
her exotic, emerald green eyes. The gown of gold she wore made her
skin look translucent, almost ethereal in its softness. Her sudden
smile transcended her beauty to certain divinity, stealing Rafe’s
breath.

On the other hand, her nearly exposed
breasts caused a sudden rage of jealously to rip through his body
like a violent storm. He wanted to beat the crap out of every one
of the men that had surely taken their fill of her perfect,
mouthwatering curves.