by SpursFanatic
Frustration caused him to grab her jaw and pull her face to his. “I could bed you now and you wouldn’t have a choice.”
“You would force yourself on me?” Her eyes were wide.
He stared at her mouth. “We both know it wouldn’t be force, would it, Tarin?”
A deep blush blossomed on her beautiful face and she pulled her jaw away. “Your arrogance is incredible. You act as though no woman could refuse you.”
“I don’t care about any woman but you. You are my future wife.”
“No, I am not, Rafe. Not anymore. The marriage is off.”
#####
“I’m telling you, Rafe, there is no record that Kent shipped with us.” Patrick stared at him from behind the desk, accounting ledgers spread out before him. “You’re welcome to review them yourself.”
Plopping down in one of the guest chairs, Rafe blew out a breath. It was four in the morning and he felt drained. He couldn’t get Tarin out of his head.
“I believe you, Patrick.” Leaning forward, he rubbed his hands down his face. “Hell...”
Rafe had insisted his brother stay up while he visited Tarin and go through all of the company ledgers since Kent moved to Boston six years earlier. Patrick looked tired, with dark rings under his eyes, his cravat askew, and his hair mussed from running his fingers through it.
But Rafe had no sympathy. Tarin had destroyed any compassion he may have had prior to seeing her tonight. Although his intentions had been good, he had ended up troubling her more than ever. After securing the locks and windows again, he left, feeling as though she had ripped his heart from his chest and thrown it in the fire of her bedside lamp.
“I still cannot believe this.” Patrick leaned back in the chair and put his hands behind his head. “Kent has never given any indication of treachery.”
“Perhaps, his operation has never been threatened,” Beau tossed out from where he stood by the fireplace, drink in hand. Even the Frenchman looked somewhat ragged around the edges.
“Good point.” Patrick shrugged with a toss of his head. “So, if Duncan is telling the truth, where are the records that he shipped with father?”
Leaning back in the chair, Rafe looked up at the ceiling. If his father, a member of Brahmin society, was dealing in opium, would he want the information known? While opium use was acceptable in the medical community, leisurely use of the powder was legal, but frowned upon. Perhaps, his father hid any record of it.
Or used the drug himself and accepted it as payment.
Rafe’s heart rate picked up speed. His gut told him he was onto something. “Patrick, what was father’s behavior like prior to his death?”
Frowning, he shrugged again. “He was never around much, as usual. But a couple of weeks before he died, he did start acting strange - preoccupied. Troubled about something. Then he got sick and everything changed. He broke out in heavy sweats with no notice, his hands shaking uncontrollably. His body appeared weak and he slept often. He declined quickly.”
Beau and Rafe exchanged a troubled glance. Sonuvabitch. His father had been an addict and was going through withdrawals before he died.
“So, what happened then?” Rafe asked. “When was Kent called in?”
Patrick sat up. “The evening before he died. Mother had wanted to call him days before, but Father refused. Then Kent just appeared at the door that night. Said he hadn’t heard from Father and wanted to see how he was fairing. Mother ushered him in right away. When Kent left, father seemed more relaxed and calm.” Patrick paused. “The next morning, Mother found him dead.”
Rafe’s head fell back on his shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh hell...”
“What?” Patrick cried.
“It sounds as though your father didn‘t die of illness,” Beau said from across the room, “but poisoned with opium.”
######
Kent had fallen off the face of the earth. Beau and Rafe had been looking for him for days, with no break. His house was locked up, and no one had seen him.
Damned coward.
Knowing he wasn’t in Boston made Rafe rest easier where Tarin’s safety was concerned. He didn’t have to worry about Kent getting near her.
Then again, neither could Rafe.
For three straight days, he went to see her. She refused to accept him. By the end of the third day, Rafe was so pissed he couldn’t see straight. He got rip-roaring drunk that night, hitting every respectable club in town. He’d even been propositioned by a whore who didn’t mind his facial scars. He’d considered it - hell he hadn’t been laid in nearly a year.
But she wasn’t Tarin.
By day five, he was kicking himself for turning down the whore. It didn’t look like the wedding would take place. Rafe had resigned himself to the fact that he needed to come up with a new business plan and notify Henry of his surrender.
By the morning of the sixth day, Rafe woke to the realization that he loved Tarin Worthington. Desperately.
He was a damned fool for doing so, was pissed as hell at himself, but love her he did. No man worth his weight in masculine pride fell in love with a woman that didn’t love him back. But, experiencing life without Tarin had forced him to face it. Beau had been right all along.
So, Rafe decided to end it. After all, when he looked at it logically, he was doomed anyway. She didn’t want him and he could do nothing about it. And even if he could, she would reject him once she saw the monster beneath.
So, this had all been a waste of time. In essence, he had known that all along. He’d given it his all - for both of his families - but, it wasn’t meant to be.
After a long, hot bath and fresh change of clothes, Rafe sat down at the writing desk in his room. He wrote a missive to Henry cancelling their deal, with a promise to deliver the ring to his office. He also agreed to see through the situation with Kent. Rafe would not sleep well otherwise.
His stomach clenched into a tight knot as he pulled out a fresh piece of paper. At a loss for words, his fingers grew stiff and reluctant to form the letters, as though they had a mind of their own. He knew, inside, that seeing them in front of his eyes would make her loss real. And regardless of his actions, he would never be ready to let her go.
Dearest Tarin,
I hope you are doing well without me. In all honesty, I am not doing well without you.
My days have passed at a snail’s pace, waiting for you to receive me again. Peace has been glaringly absent and laughter its companion.
But life goes on.
You have proven to be a worthy adversary in my pursuit of your hand. Thus, I have decided to abide your wishes and concede defeat. I only want happiness for you and realize I cannot provide such.
Tarin, you have won.
Please know that should you find a change of heart, all you have to do is send word. I will come for you post haste.
Always,
Rafe
Rafe’s bold scrawl blurred before Tarin’s eyes. The bonnet in her hand dropped to the foyer floor. Her throat constricted, her heart shattering like delicate crystal.
“What is it?” Kitty asked, as she hung her bonnet on the hook above the credenza.
Wordlessly, Tarin handed the note to Kitty as she left the bonnet behind and slowly walked into the parlor.
She heard Kit come up behind her. “Oh, Tarin. Have you completely lost your mind?”
She whirled around. “What? Why?”
“The man loves you, for goodness sake. Can’t you read between the lines?”
Shaking her head, Tarin hugged her middle. “You don’t know that. Besides, this is what I wanted.” Contrary to Rafe’s note, she did not feel she had won at all.
She felt as though she had lost -- everything.
“No, it isn’t what you want.” Kit came up and hugged her shoulders. “You want a Rafe that doesn’t exist. Yet, what you don’t realize is that the bravery you fear is one of the qualities that drew you to him in the first place.” She went around to face Tarin. “Was it
not his rugged persona that attracted you? Was it not what made him different from everyone else?” Kit spoke softly. “I know the death of your mother has scarred you, but you cannot live life afraid to love.”
Tarin winced. Her mother had told her to live life on her own terms. Wasn’t she doing that? Standing her ground by refusing to live life in fear of losing him?
“Lady Worthington.” Tarin turned to find Hobbs holding out another note. “This just arrived.”
Taking it, she recognized Dr. Gregory‘s script on the envelope. She let out a breath.
It had arrived. The answer from the legislature. This envelope contained her future.
Or, was it the previous one?
“Here, you read it,” Tarin said, holding it out to Kitty as Hobbs left the room. “My nerves are taut.”
Turning to gaze out the front window, Tarin listened to Kit’s movements behind her, waiting, worrying about the contents of that letter.
When no sound came, she had her answer.
“Kit.” She turned back to her best friend. Kit held the note in her limp hand, her mouth turned down at the sides.
“Gregory has received word from a reliable source that the legislature will not pass the college in tomorrow’s session.”
Hanging her head, Tarin cursed Randall Kent.
It had to have been he who influenced the legislature. They’d had no good reason to deny them, otherwise. Even with Dr. Gregory’s connections, they would be denied. What kind of power did Dr. Kent have over the members to gain such a feat?
“Oh, Kit. After all the work we have done, only to have one of our own destroy our dream.”
Kit approached her and clutched her arm. “Whatever do you mean?”
She sighed. “Dr. Kent. He is not the man I thought him to be.” Tarin proceeded to tell her all that had transpired at the Cabot ball.
Kit turned away from her, a hand to her forehead. “I cannot believe this. What did Rafe say when you told him?” She turned back to Tarin.
Tarin took a deep breath. “I did not tell Rafe.”
Kit groaned.
“I did not want to ruin our evening.”
Letter in hand, Kit lifted an arm in frustration. “You must go to him. Tonight. Perhaps, he can sway them.”
Tarin‘s heart stopped. “Oh, Kit. I don’t know…” She turned away. “We are not on the best of terms.”
“Tarin! We are on the verge of losing our dream. We must explore every avenue before we forfeit.” She lowered her voice. “You must forego your pride and go see Rafe Sutherland.”
#####
“Master Rafe, Lady Tarin Worthington to see you, sir.”
Stilling, Rafe glanced up from the cards in his hand to stare at Jacobs. He had to have heard wrong. Looking around the table at Tim, George and Beau, he sought their confirmation.
Beau smirked around his cigar. “You heard correctly.”
Hot damn. Jumping up from his seat, Rafe put out his cigar and excused himself from the draw poker game. Making his way across the room, he shut the door behind him.
He couldn’t believe she had come to him. Thank, God. Had his note really made the difference? Or had the words they’d shared in her bedroom finally hit their mark? Regardless, he had to take it slow. He didn’t want to spook her.
Striding towards the parlor, Rafe passed the mirror by the stairs. Doing a double take, he cursed under his breath. He looked like hell. He hadn’t shaved today and he wore jeans and his dirty boots. Sniffing his shirt sleeve, he pulled his head back. He reeked of bourbon and cigar smoke.
Damn. No time to bathe and change now. Oh well, if they were going to marry, she would have to get used to seeing him this way.
Stopping in front of the parlor door, Rafe lifted his shoulders and took a deep breath. Remember Sutherland, take it slow.
When he opened the door and saw her standing at the window, the urge to scoop her in his arms and kiss the life out of her overwhelmed him. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he was going to hold onto her with everything he had.
“Tarin.”
She whirled to face him. Her eyes widened before scanning him from dirty leather boot to long, unkempt hair. Shocked to see appreciation in her exotic green eyes, Rafe glanced down at his clothes again.
Hell, he would never figure her out.
“Rafe.” She gave a brief nod. “I hope you are well.”
Oh, no. He didn’t like this. She wasn’t holding her arms out in welcome and she sure as hell wasn‘t smiling. As a matter of fact, her tone sounded very formal and distant.
“Is Jacobs bringing you some tea?” He motioned for her to sit on the sofa.
Shaking her head, she sat down. “No, I‘m fine.” Rafe sat at the opposite end, hands on his thighs. The scent of roses assaulted his nostrils once again. So, she wore roses during the day and lavender at night. Interesting.
She sat facing him, eyes wide and apprehensive, her hands fisted in her skirts. “This afternoon, I received word from Dr. Gregory that the legislature is going to deny the college at tomorrow’s session.”
He sat up. “Is that so? I thought Gregory and Kent had connections.”
Her gaze lowered to her lap. “I suspect it is Dr. Kent who has conspired against us.”
A sharp sting hit his gut. He leaned towards her. “What?”
Lifting her chin, she took a deep breath. “The night of the Cabot ball, after you left me with Isabel, Dr. Kent asked to court me. When I refused, he became very hostile. He told me not to be surprised if the college was denied. He also said he allowed no one to interfere with his plans.”
Rafe’s head threatened to explode. He clutched her arm in a tight grip. “He threatened you?! Good God Tarin, why didn’t you tell me?”
She snatched her arm away. “Because I did not want to spoil our evening!” She lowered her voice. “Even as father made the announcement, he stood across the room, shaking his head at me.”
Jumping up from the sofa, Rafe paced in front of her. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Tarin, I do not want you near that man, do you understand me?” He stopped and stared at her.
She nodded. “Yes, of course. I have no intention of speaking to him again. I cannot believe he would do such a thing.”
Sitting next to her, Rafe grabbed her shoulders. “Tarin, Kent hired that man in the park to kill me.”
Her eyes widened. “What? No!” She moved to touch his cheek but pulled her hand away.
“Yes. And he is involved in other criminal activity. Beau and I are working with your father and the police to build a case against him. He is a dangerous man.” He released her.
She grabbed his hand. “My father? Why, my father? What has he to do with this?”
Though tense, her touch calmed him. He turned his hand over and curled his fingers around hers. “He is using your father’s shipments to deliver opium abroad.”
She gasped. “Opium?! My father must be furious. Is there no limit to Kent’s escapades?”
Rafe shook his head. “No. None. That’s what you must remember. He is capable of anything.”
Pulling her hand from his, she went to the window again. “Good God, he has fooled us all, hasn‘t he?”
Rafe stood as he stared at her profile in the evening sun. “What I told you today must not leave this room.” She turned to him. “Kent cannot know we are aware of his activities.”
She nodded. “What of the man from the park?”
“As far as everyone is concerned, he is not talking.”
Sighing, she crossed her arms over her middle. “And you… are taking precautions?” She swallowed hard.
Easy, Sutherland. Tell her what she needs to hear. “I am. Beau is a bit of insurance, too. We are used to looking out for each other.”
She gave him a slight smile. The first he had seen all evening.
“I suppose you are wondering why I am here.”
He sauntered towards her. “Tarin, you need no reason to be
here. I am just glad you are.” He reached out to touch her cheek.
Staring at his mouth, she leaned towards him. His heart rate kicked up. Taking that as an invitation, he closed the distance between them.
She ducked away.
Shutting his eyes, Rafe cursed mentally as she walked past. He hated when his gut was right.
“Actually, I am here to offer you a proposition.”
Turning to face her, Rafe crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn‘t sure if he was ready for this or not. “Go on.”
“I would like to hire you to… lobby the legislators for the college.”
Rafe’s mouth fell open. After all that had transpired -- or not transpired -- between them in the last week, she was here to petition his help for the college?
“That’s why you’re here? To solicit my help for the college?”
She looked away. “Yes.”
Anger and hurt made his heart pound. He let out a bitter harrumph. “No.”
Her gaze shot to his. “No? You will not even consider it?”
“No.” Lowering his arms, he walked towards the door. “Is there anything else?”
Planting her fists on her hips, she raised her voice. “Why?”
“Why?!” He couldn’t believe she would ask. “I have done all but stand on my head trying to convince you to renew our engagement. You have told me in no uncertain terms you do not want to marry me. Forgive me if I don’t possess the enthusiasm you seek.”
Her face flushed a deep red. “Of course, you do not possess any enthusiasm. You are a man, free to do as you please in life.” Her nostrils flared. “As a woman, I have two choices: Get married or live life as a spinster. I cannot run a shipping business or become a financier. I cannot travel the country alone or sail the seas.” She approached the door where he stood. “I have the opportunity for a third choice, Rafe. I will not lose that chance without a fight.”
With her green eyes ablaze, and her face flush with anger, she was a sight to behold. Passion consumed her, determination a shield of protection.
