by SpursFanatic
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“I have wanted to get you alone ever since I got here.”
Rafe found himself in another heated kiss with Rosa out on the solar balcony. He had stepped out for a moment to enjoy a smoke before he and Beau settled in for a night of cards and tequila.
The kiss was definitely the invitation Rafe had told Patrick was under lock and key. Damn, what he would have given to have this back in Texas.
“Rosa, no.“ He shoved her to arms length. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you.”
She trailed her palms up his chest and stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “You can tell me in my room, mi amor” she whispered. “In bed.”
Rafe stilled, shocked his body did not respond, didn’t show the slightest interest in the beautiful woman standing before him. Had his injuries ruined more than his flesh? Had he completely lost his mind?
Tarin didn’t want him. She had told him so, just today. So why couldn’t he get it up for Rosa? A woman Patrick found even more beautiful than the copper-haired wench that had him tied in knots he may never free?
Rosa tried to pull his head down for another kiss. He held firm.
“Rosa, here, sit down.” He led her to one of the wrought-iron chairs at the table. Rafe paced a while, trying to figure out how to tell her without hurting her feelings.
Stopping, he dropped to squat in front of her. Her eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight, her gaze filled with adoration.
Adoration he didn’t deserve or want.
“A lot has changed since I saw you last.”
Her hand squeezed his where it dangled between his legs. “I know. You are fit, well, mi amor. So handsome.” Her hands caressed his cheeks.
He pulled them away. “You saved my life that night. And I will forever be grateful.”
The smile on her face made guilt tighten his gut. Leaning forward to kiss him again, the neckline of her gown drooped. Her breasts were almost completely exposed to his gaze. She made no move to cover them.
Hell-fire, he had to stop this. “Rosa, there’s a woman…”
She sat up in the chair, her back ramrod straight. Her wide eyes pooled with tears. “No…” She shook her head.
“She’s important to me.”
Jumping up from the chair, she nearly knocked him over in her haste to get to the railing. Clutching it, she stared out into the inky blackness.
He came to stand behind her. “I didn’t expect it or seek her out. It just… happened.”
Her voice was soft when she spoke, her accent heavy with tears. “Since mama and papa died, all I have thought about is finding you. To be with you, take care of you.” She turned to stare at him. “We belong together, Rafe.”
Was she feeling lost without her family rather than heartbroken over him? God, he hoped so.
“No, Rosa.” He shook his head. “But you are welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I just don’t want you to assume something that isn’t there.”
“Rafe,” she said, clutching the lapels of his coat, “I know I don’t have schooling and fancy dresses like women here. But I can change for you.”
“Rosa,” he said, taking her hands in his, “I know you can. But I don’t want you to change for me. You’re beautiful the way you are.” He smiled at her. “It wouldn’t change anything. I care for her and intend to marry her.”
Pulling away slowly, she backed against the railing and crossed her arms over her chest. Her whiskey-colored eyes blazed in anger. “If she is so important, where is she, then? Why isn’t she here tonight for dinner?”
Rafe stared at the stones beneath his booted feet. “We had a falling out today,” he said, his gaze meeting the challenge in her eyes. “But, we will reconcile, I assure you.”
She studied him a long moment. “You want to marry a fool!” she stated, storming past him.
His shoulders slumped as he turned to watch her go.
“So, who is she?”
Rafe’s head snapped around. Beau stood in the shadows of the solar doors, glasses and tequila in hand. Two cigars stood tall in his shirt pocket behind a deck of cards.
Shaking his head, Rafe met Beau at the table and sat. Did he tell Beau? The two of them had been through a lot together under Jack Hays’ command. If he chose to confide in anyone, it would be Beauregard St. John.
“She married? With child? An ogre?”
Rafe chuckled to himself. “I wish it were that simple.”
Lighting a cigar, Beau took a puff before he spoke. “I’ve got nothing but time, my friend. Besides, I have a better chance of winning the first round if I keep you distracted.”
Grinning, Rafe poured them both a glass of tequila. Leaning back on two chair legs, he took a drink. Now that he thought about it, Beau might be able to help him uncover the truth behind Kent and Worthington. St. John had a tracking nose like a St. Bernard. He would certainly be less suspicious than Rafe inquiring himself.
“Tarin Worthington - Lady Tarin Worthington.”
Eyes round, Beau stopped dealing the cards to stare at Rafe. “British nobility?”
He nodded. The cigar drooped on Beau’s bottom lip. “When you aim, you aim high.”
Collecting his cards on the table, Rafe said, “Actually, it wasn’t me - her father approached me.”
Rafe filled him in on every damned thing that had transpired since he arrived in Boston - except of course, the intimate details of his time with Tarin.
When he finished, St. John set down his cards. Arranging them in a neat stack at his elbow, Beau slowly folded his hands together on the table. He stared at Rafe dead on. “You’re damned.”
Rafe burst out laughing. “Tell me something I don‘t know.”
Beau smoothed back a lock of black hair from his face. “Bed her and your problem is solved. She will have no choice but to marry you.”
Rafe’s smile vanished, the cards in his hand forgotten. “Bed her? Hell, all I think about is bedding her.” He took a deep breath. “I’m afraid to show her… what happened to me.”
Hating the melancholy that accompanied him these days, Rafe tried to lighten the mood. “Besides once she sees that pretty face of yours, I’ll probably lose her anyway.”
Beau‘s eyes were round, somber. “Then she isn’t deserving of you.”
Rafe gave him a brief nod. St. John would always be loyal. He knew that. Beau had stood by him through many battles over the years and had saved his hide a time or two.
“More the other way around,” Rafe replied. “If she doesn’t recoil from me, she’ll hate me once she finds out about the deal with her father.” He blew out a breath. “But, first things, first. I have to get her to agree to courtship.”
Nodding, Beau said, “Tomorrow, I’ll go down to the docks and see what I can find out about your future father-in-law and Kent. I can’t imagine a duke’s son involved in opium shipping. There’s got to be another story there.”
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.”
