Page 4 of The Scent of Intuition
“They are very much in love, and I am happy that my dear friend has found the love of his life,” Alfie said. It was genuine, and he didn’t dare deny Nick the splendor of true love.
So why did he feel pity for the beauty before him? Or was pity not the right word?
“How romantic of you, Mr. Collins.” She blinked at him for an instant and then looked away. Even in the dim light, Alfie’s expert eyes caught the blush rising to her cheeks.
“You were instrumental in ensuring the match, Lady Beatrice.” He bowed, considering retreat, lest he cross a line with Pippa’s cousin that a commoner like him must not. But he was just a man of flesh and blood, and she was a veritable angel of beauty, licking her lips and twirling the pearl strand around her finger in a way that stirred Alfie’s most basic urges. No level of education from the finest faculties of alchemy and medicine could prepare him to cure what he was experiencing.
“I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t created the ipecac mixture,” Bea said.
“But you administered it, so it would have been worthless without you.”The world is worthless without you.“Thanks toyou, Pippa and Nick can marry. Without your intelligence, none of this would have worked.”
She waved her hand in the air, and the pearls fell into the hollow of her neck. Alfie’s brow twitched as he looked at the breathtaking interplay of iridescent sheen and the dew of her décolleté. Her beauty was genuinely disarming, even for a man who knew how to live out his urges.
“Will you be back at the orangery for more plants, Mr. Collins?”
He didn’t like her calling him by his surname, usingMister Collins. So polite. So formal. So distant. He wished she’d consider him just a man, nothing special like an apothecary with the knowledge to mix and dispense medicine.
“If Pippa wishes it, I will be there.”
“Why is it you call me Lady Beatrice, yet you call her Pippa?”
Alfie narrowed his brows. Had she read his mind?
“Only if you’ll call me Alfie.”
“Alfie, I’d very much like to show you the orange blossoms at the orangery. Do you think you could find any use for them?”
“Let them ripen into oranges,” Alfie said with a nod as curt as he could muster, hoping she wouldn’t know how strongly she affected him.
“And if you were to harvest the petals?”
Oh no, she couldn’t possibly ask that. A beauty like her mustn’t speak of aphrodisiacs like neroli oil derived from orange blossoms.
“For what purpose, Bea?” That rolled off his tongue far too quickly, bringing the sweetest pink to her cheeks.
“They smell lovely, and I thought you could take a few minutes to craft perfume.”
“Neroli oil?”
“Is that orange blossom oil?”
“Yes. And it’s an aphrodisiac.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You mean it makes people fall in love?”
She was too sweet for her own good—the most dangerous and tantalizing combination of beautiful, smart, and curious.
Alfie surveyed the hall, still devoid of people. Why wasn’t there a chaperone around?
He rubbed his neck, trying to remind himself that he was speaking to a member of the Ton. Pippa’s cousin, the lovely Bea, had his stomach twisted in a knot, and thinking of her as he did was not acceptable.
Seducing a virgin noblewoman could have devastating repercussions for him. She was the daughter of the Earl of Dunmore, after all, and her parents were away on a diplomatic mission. The suspicion alone would scare his best customers away, and he’d lose the apothecary he’d built for years.
Alfie swallowed. Was there a bowl of ice water in which he could stick his head for a moment?
She blinked at him, still waiting for an answer.
“Aphrodisiacs don’t make people fall in love. They tip the balance of desire in a certain direction.”
