Heaven Scent

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Heaven Scent Page 6

by SpursFanatic


  With that, he walked away, leaving Tarin to gape after him.

  Was Rafe Sutherland different? A man that would support her cause?

  Hope took flight within her breast like a pack of butterflies. In the next instant, she remembered the arrogant way he manhandled her, the way he teased her earlier with that incredible kiss.

  Mentally kicking herself, Tarin opened the door and stepped inside. No, Rafe Sutherland was off limits like all of the others. Even more so.

  She’d confided in him.

  Chapter 4

  What a damned fool. An idiot.

  What was he thinking, allowing himself the indulgence of Tarin Worthington’s kiss?

  And what a kiss it had been, Rafe recalled, as he lay in bed the next morning, staring up at the ceiling. The woman may be innocent but she excited the hell out of him.

  She’d had no idea what she did to him, no idea that he’d needed that hour in the seminar to cool his body.

  Rafe had been relieved to learn she didn’t have a lover. The idea of a woman with Tarin’s class and grace involved in an illicit affair was something he couldn’t stomach. She was above such behavior and deserved a man who would court her and treat her right.

  Then he’d kissed her and the idea became personal. Suddenly, he couldn’t stomach Tarin having an affair. Instantly, he was aroused and intrigued by her, and wanted no other man even looking her way.

  Rafe cursed aloud as he glanced down at his scarred chest. As if she’d ever be interested in a man that looked like him. She was perfect, for God’s sake.

  Tarin had been desperate to get into that seminar. That was the only reason she had agreed to that kiss. Of course, it was dark at the time and she didn’t have to look at him. She could’ve imagined he was someone else for all he knew.

  Someone like Kent.

  Rafe threw his pillow against the wall. He hadn’t slept worth a damn last night. All he’d done was think about Tarin, that kiss, and her damned independence.

  An hour later, Jacobs, his butler, handed Rafe a missive as he walked out the front door. Henry Worthington wanted to meet with Rafe – alone. Rafe knew better than to think Tarin had confessed all to her father last night, even though Rafe had seen him peeking out of the window when they returned home. And to think Henry’s appeal involved that trial run he agreed to was out of the question. Henry would wait for them to contact him, not the other way around. Besides, a request for Patrick’s presence was suspiciously absent from the letter.

  As soon as Rafe entered Worthington’s study, he knew what kind of game Worthington played. Henry sat behind his desk without acknowledging Rafe’s presence. Rafe gave him several seconds before he turned to leave. He’d be damned if he’d be made to feel inferior.

  “Where are you going?” Henry demanded.

  Rafe continued to walk, his boot heels clomping on the wood floor. “I don’t have time to play games, Worthington. I have a business to run.”

  “This is no game, Sutherland,” Henry bellowed. “It is of utmost import and seriousness.”

  Turning, Rafe walked back to the desk. His height made him eye level with Worthington. He stared at the man, hands on hips, waiting for him to speak.

  “I’ll get right to the point,” Henry said, pulling the spectacles off his nose and tossing them onto the desk.

  “By all means…”

  “I’m willing to give Sutherland all of my shipping. Are you interested?”

  Rafe’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Of course he was interested. Signing all of Worthington’s business would be a godsend.

  But, Rafe knew a catch when he heard one. He had to tread lightly where Worthington was concerned. His daughter had gained her sly intelligence from somewhere.

  “Go on,” he said with a brief nod.

  “Not only am I willing to give you all of my shipping, I am willing to offer you my prized possession.”

  Rafe’s gut swirled in dreaded anticipation. This was not good. The last time he’d felt this way, he was skinned alive minutes later.

  “And this prized possession is?…”

  Henry leveled his gaze on Rafe. “Tarin.”

  Rafe’s gut clenched painfully before he let out a bellow of laughter. “You could no more give away Tarin than I could win a contest for beauty.”

  Breaking eye contact, Henry went back to work on his papers. “So, you are not interested...”

  Hell. Rafe clenched his jaw. “I didn’t say that,” he replied. “But you and I both know your daughter has a mind of her own. She will not tolerate being given away.”

  “I didn’t say give, Mr. Sutherland.” Henry sat back in his chair and templed his fingers. “I believe the word I used was offer.”

  Rafe crossed his arms over his chest. “So, what does offering Tarin, and your shipping business, have to do with one another?”

  Henry smiled. “The bargain, Mr. Sutherland, is this – marry my daughter and you have my business for life.”

  It took all of Rafe’s willpower to keep his eyes from bulging out of his head. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am deadly serious.”

  Rafe dropped his arms. “Why? Your daughter is a beautiful, intelligent woman.”

  Henry smiled. Rafe ignored him.

  “Any man in Boston would kill to marry her. Why would you saddle her with someone like me?”

  Henry sat forward in his chair. “You are the first man I have met that can handle her. Tarin needs someone that is her equal. She does not need a man who will bow to her every wish or one that will try to control her.”

  Rafe thought about last night at the seminar, and the dinner party at his home. Any other man would have scolded Tarin for her behavior, or banished her to the house.

  But he had seen too many women fall victim to the strong arm of a man. Too many suffer as a result of a man’s pride. To not help her into the seminar, or not allow her to state her opinion on the vote, had not even entered Rafe’s mind.

  Handle her? Hell, he admired her. But he would not make her marry a man that repulsed her.

  “I may be able to handle her but I am not the man for the job.”

  “You are if you want my business.”

  Rafe cursed under his breath as he moved to the window to collect his thoughts.

  “We both know Sutherland Shipping will go under within a year’s time if more capital is not gained,” Henry stated. “There is other business out there, yes, but none as lucrative and forthcoming as mine. If you take my offer, Isabel and Patrick will never know life outside the Brahmin.”

  Leave it to Worthington to tighten the right noose. As the eldest son, Rafe had the responsibility to ensure his family’s prosperity. And the thought of telling his mother they had no money was not an option.

  Rafe turned from the window. “Even if I accepted, Tarin would not willingly marry me. She is too intent on her career.”

  Henry stared at him long and hard. “She will marry you – with a little persuasion on your part. Once you are wed, it will be up to you to keep her happy and with child so, God willing, she will have no time for this midwifery nonsense.”

  Rafe’s blood jumped to a roiling boil. Patrick said Worthington was honorable. Hell. The man was using blackmail to keep his noble daughter from living her dream.

  Worthington asked Rafe to go against his own beliefs. Tarin had a right to live her life as she chose. He would not want anyone telling him how to live, why would he expect her to feel any different?

  How could he agree to this when the arrangement was so unfair to Tarin? How could he go against every moral fiber in his body and marry her under false pretenses?

  Then again, how could he deny his family the money – if he could get her to marry him?

  What Worthington didn’t know about was the scars. How could Rafe marry Tarin without revealing them to her beforehand? Once she saw them, she would never agree to marry him. She would turn away in horror and never look back.

  He was
in an impossible situation all the way around. He was doomed regardless of what avenue he took.

  “Come now, Mr. Sutherland,” Henry said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. “You’re an intelligent man – Harvard law. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You would have financial solvency, success, noble status, and the most beautiful woman in Boston. What is there to think about?”

  Imminent failure.

  “I’ll get back with you.”

  Worthington stared at him with wide eyes. It would do the arrogant son of a bitch some good to stew a little.

  “Fair enough,” Henry finally said. “But I trust this conversation will remain between us…”

  Rafe gave him a curt nod.

  “I am not a patient man, Sutherland. I expect to hear from you soon.”

  “Neither am I, Worthington. I expect to do that trial run on your next shipment.”

  ######

  “I told the crew to start those repairs for S2.”

  Stepping inside the study, Rafe stopped short when Patrick’s troubled eyes met his from behind the desk. Patrick blew out a breath.

  “We have to do them…” Rafe said, hands on hips.

  “I know, I know.” Patrick ran his hands down his face.

  Something wasn’t right. They had already discussed the repairs. Patrick had just wanted Rafe’s confirmation on what had to be done.

  Since he first returned home, Rafe’s gut had told him something troubled Patrick. He had given his brother space, thinking Patrick would come to him when he was ready. Whatever bothered him caused Patrick to look more haggard than Rafe had ever seen him.

  “Worthington’s next shipment is ours, by the way.” Rafe strode across the room and dropped into a guest chair.

  “Dare I hope it’s more than that trial run you asked for?”

  No, I‘ve only got to convince his rich, perfect daughter to marry a grotesque, nearly penniless shipper first. “No, but we’ve got him now. It’s just a matter of time.”

  Patrick jumped up and strode to the sidebar. He poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it in one gulp.

  “A little early for that, isn’t it?”

  Patrick turned around and glared at Rafe while he poured himself a double.

  Hell. This couldn’t be good. “What’s bothering you?”

  Hesitating a moment, Patrick made his way back to the desk and reached under it, to the secret compartment. Popping open the drawer, he pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to Rafe. He held a post dated two weeks prior, from a woman in Atlanta, Georgia.

  “Who is this Emily and why is she asking you for money?” Rafe knew better than to think Patrick would go against his honor and get an unwed woman with child.

  Patrick eyed him a moment before he took a deep breath. “Father had another family.”

  Stiffening, Rafe pulled his head back. He had to have heard wrong. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Patrick rubbed the creases in his forehead. “Father had another family down in Atlanta - a young wife and a three-year-old daughter. That’s what he did with all of the money, Rafe. He sent it to his… other family.”

  Rafe felt disoriented, as though a cinder block had dropped on his head. Anger warred with disbelief, the idea too incomprehensible to digest. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. Rafe’s knowledge of his father’s womanizing had kept them constantly at odds growing up.

  “How do you know this?”

  “When I was going through father’s things after he died, I found a deed to a house in Atlanta. Thinking I could sell it and use the money for working capital, I traveled down there only to find our stepmother and stepsister living there. Father had been dead for weeks and they’d had no idea.”

  Rafe turned away, dragging a hand down his face. What was this madness? His father had another family? The notion was inconceivable.

  However, if anyone could believe it, it was Rafe. But to marry someone else when he already had a wife?...

  Now, he could add bigamy to his father’s long list of sins. Rafe gritted his teeth.

  Patrick leaned back in his chair. “I couldn’t toss them out, Rafe. They had nowhere to go. I gave them what money I had, but hell, we’re in dire straits ourselves. I send her what I can, but how can I let Mother do without?” Patrick shook his head, his eyes downcast.

  Rafe sighed aloud. Yes, their mother. She had been through so much. How could Rafe risk the humiliation she would surely face if she had to leave her home and life in the Brahmin? How could he make Patrick suffer the same fate when he had been carrying the load for so long?

  “I assume Mother doesn’t know…” Rafe said softly.

  “Hell no,” Patrick replied. “And his wife down in Atlanta doesn’t know about Mother, either. She thinks our mother is dead.”

  Rafe dropped his head back against his shoulders and laughed bitterly. His gut ached like he’d eaten some of Rosa’s chili.

  He had an opportunity to solve all of their problems. All he had to do was marry Tarin Worthington. But to even contemplate marrying her without revealing his scars was unthinkable. And to try to bed her knowing she would be sickened by him was more than his pride could take.

  In another place, another time, the bargain would have been just as Worthington said – an offer no sane man would refuse. However, sane was not something Rafe felt at the moment. And he was no longer an ordinary man.

  Cursing to himself, Rafe stared at the ceiling. He had no choice. Regardless of what his conscience told him, he had to do the impossible. For his family - no families.

  He had to marry Tarin.

  Chapter 5

  “You would not believe what my mother told me this morning,” Kitty said, as she sat down at the petition table outside of Templar Hall. “She said that midwifery school was no place to meet a man.”

  Tarin laughed as she scooted her chair to make room for her friend. They sat awaiting the start of the women’s seminar. Hopefully, they would gain more signatures today.

  “She told me that the only men I would meet would be married men – and new fathers, to boot. She said if any man was in love, it was a man with a child on the way.”

  “She does have a point,” Tarin said, placing an anatomy journal on the petition to keep it from blowing away.

  The breezy sunshine was refreshing after the abundance of rain they’d had in recent days. Tarin wondered where the clear skies were yesterday, before she had ruined another skirt sneaking into the seminar with Rafe.

  “I told her this school was not about meeting men,” Kitty continued, as she adjusted the ribbon on her bonnet. “It’s about taking a stand, self-fulfillment, helping others.” She patted at the hair brushing her forehead. “Of course, meeting a good man would be nice…”

  Leaning an elbow on the table, Tarin propped her head in her hand. “But unlikely.”

  Kitty sighed as she squirmed in her seat. “Too true. Why, I don’t think the good Lord above even makes good men anymore.”

  She stilled before elbowing Tarin. “Perhaps, I spoke too soon…”

  Glancing up, Tarin straightened as she watched the Sutherland coach stop in front of the hall. Climbing down from the seat, Rafe went around to the door of the polished, mahogany cab. Isabel emerged from the interior, looking fresh and beautiful in a periwinkle day dress and straw bonnet. Rafe grinned down at her, his smile wide and endearing.

  Tarin’s heart sped up, her nerves jumping despite her will. Why did such a pompous, arrogant man affect her so?

  “Have you ever seen a man like that?” Kitty quizzed. “His manner of dress is most improper.”

  Tarin smiled to herself. It was not that Rafe dressed improperly, really, for he wore clothing like any other man. The absence of a cravat seemed a bit uncouth, but on Rafe it suited him.

  Tarin assumed what Kitty found improper was Rafe’s physique. The wide shoulders and slim hips were completely distracting in clothing that fit to perfec
tion. A lady could not walk past without at least one very unladylike glance.

  Once again, Tarin found herself staring at his fine backside, despite her good manners. She cursed herself.

  “Why, it’s downright indecent,” Kitty stated, as she tilted her head to the side.

  “And his hair,” she continued, as Rafe spoke with his mother. “Why it’s unfashionably long - and unkempt.”

  Kitty sighed. “Do you think he will stop by the table?”

  Tarin started in her seat. Heavens, no. She had spent the last several hours trying to forget that divine kiss of his, and had made good progress. To subject herself to his arrogant grin and fiendishly good looks would take her back to square one.

  “You’re terrible, Kitty,” Tarin admonished. “What will you do – toss out your bonnet and say the wind carried it?”

  Kitty sat up in her seat. “Good idea.” She patted Tarin on the arm.

  “That is Rafe Sutherland and his mother, Isabel.” Kitty’s social status did not allow her to be a member of the Brahmin so Tarin filled her in on news of the high society circle.

  “The man Zachary Taylor deemed a hero?”

  Tarin nodded. “One and the same.”

  “How splendid,” Kitty added, clapping her hands together. “I do hope he comes this way.” Squinting in his direction, she added, “I’ve heard he has terrible scars.”

  “They are not so bad. He is handsome despite them.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Tarin mentally kicked herself as soon as the words left her mouth.

  Kitty‘s head whipped around as though her neck had been snapped. “Oh, really?” She stared at Tarin with raised brows. “I had all but given up hope you even knew another sex existed in our species.”

  “Tease me if you must, but that man,” Tarin lowered her voice to a whisper, “sneaked me into the men’s seminar last night.”

  Kitty nearly broke Tarin’s arm, she gripped it so tight. “He did not!”

  Tarin smiled. “He did.” All that, and she got a heavenly kiss in the bargain.

  “You asked him to help you?”

 

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