Page 41 of The Scent of Intuition
He was already the best man and wouldn’t miss their union for anything.
“It would be my honor,” Alfie finally said, reaching to pat Nick on the upper arm. But his friend wouldn’t have any of it and let go of Pippa to give Alfie a tight, brotherly hug. The glass bottles in his basket tinkled together like little bells.
“It means you’ll sign the papersandbe my best man,” Nick said.
Yes, it was an honor indeed. It was a special privilege in the lives of his dear friend Nick and the woman he loved.
And I kissed her cousin.Alfie’s heart dropped.
But they didn’t appear to know about that. Nick explained that he’d come to help Pippa collect a few things for her coachmen to transport to the new townhouse she’d bought, one within walking distance from the practice, which was why they’d been “harvesting” in the orangery. They left him with an empty terracotta jar in which to collect orange blossom petals and left to speak to the coachmen while he remained in the orangery. It would take a long time to convert Cloverdale House into the rehabilitation hospital Pippa and Violet had planned, he mused, but it would be worthwhile.
Alfie had always harbored the utmost respect for all soldiers, not merely British ones. He didn’t subscribe to the usual heroism of sacrificing one’s body or health for international conflicts. No, those were better solved with treaties and ink on paper rather than blood spilled in the fields. But all soldiers were brave, facing unimaginable danger for a cause greater than any of them alone. That was something Alfie respected.
If the rehabilitation center came into being, he’d be the primary supplier of ointments, tinctures, and any medicines needed unless he risked his reputation, and they lost the practice. The rehabilitation center could not function without them, and Pippa’s generous plans would falter. He was hopeful that he could provide more than the usual laudanum to dull the patients’ pain, and instead create more proactive and effective medicines to cure and treat their injuries and ailments. He’d maintain the plants at the orangery in Pippa’s absence, and with her help, they’d create their own steady supply of medicinal plants.
Now, the purple and pink rays of the morning cast a lovely glow over all the plants in the orangery. Alfie moved to the little orange trees that stood, ironically, like soldiers at attention in a row. The waxy white blooms shone against the pruned green leaves. Carefully, he cut the blossoms below the sepals to ensure the same branch could regrow at the same spot. Then, he plucked the white petals off, placed them in the jar he set down on the raised bed of orchids and little pineapple palms.
“P-i-i-p-a-a-a-h!” A voice sounded from outside. Then, the courtyard cobblestones leading away from the orangery betrayed rushing footsteps. “Pippa! Are you here?” And then he saw Bea as she threw the glass door open and rushed into the orangery. “Oh!”
Alfie nearly dropped the jar with the precious petals at the sight of her. She was even more beautiful in the morning than later in the day.
*
“I didn’t expectyou here,” Bea croaked when Alfie rose from the crouched position he’d been in between the little orange trees in a line of pots. She covered her cheeks with her hands, unwilling to let Alfie view her reddened cheeks. Even though he’d healed her only a few days ago and knew all about her affliction—indeed, he’d diagnosed it for her—she didn’t want him to see her this way. Not after he’d kissed her.
She wanted to be beautiful for him. But in spite of her disfigurement, she didn’t want to leave him now that she knew he was here. The door shut with a click behind her, and she stepped forward, careful to remain in the shadows and not reveal her reddened face.
“I’ve been here for a little while, almost finished.” Alfie shook a small terracotta jar, and a few white petals bounced out lightly in the air. “Please accept my sincere apologies for the tardiness of my visit. I meant to come days ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t be here before but I am now. “I’ve been here less than a half hour. To harvest the blossoms of course.” He shook something off his hands and rolled his white shirt sleeves back down, covering the muscular arms with the slight veins that Bea could see even from her spot in the shadows ten feet away.
She didn’t know how to respond. In truth, she’d been distracted by the way the tendons in his arms had moved under his skin and hadn’t actually listened to his response. She felt her face heat even more than it did from the beast.
“There was too much work; I didn’t want you to think that I’d forgotten, but—”
“No, please!” She held a hand out, and the light illuminated it while she was careful to remain in the shadows so he couldn’t see how flushed she was. “It’s all right. Thank you for coming to harvest the blossoms.”
“My pleasure. But I won’t take any more lest there remain no oranges to harvest.” He turned the lid of his jar. “Now Bea, about the neroli oil. It’s very potent.” Alfie took a few steps toward her.
“I’ll come to pick it up.” She turned her back to him, afraid that he’d come closer and see her inner beast on her reddened outside. “Thank you.”
She pushed the door open and ran away.
He mustn’t see me like this. Not again.
Of all the people in the world, for some reason, Alfie’s opinion of her mattered more than any other’s. She wanted him to appreciate her and see her as beautiful even though she didn’t know what to make of the feelings surging within her.
Tears pricked her eyes as she rushed back into the house and through the corridor when—bam!—she collided with something. Or someone, since whomever she’d collided with called out. “Oh!”
Pippa!She scrambled back in surprise.
“Bea!” Pippa frowned and rubbed her arm vigorously. “Why are you awake? Were you outside? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Bea was eager to go back to her chamber and cry in her bed upstairs—far away from the orangery and its heady, flowery fragrances.
“Bea?” Pippa had followed her upstairs and knocked, but then she’d just entered anyway. Perhaps some things would never change, and she and Pippa would always be like sisters. Though Pippa was all grown up and almost a bride who’d move to a different house in London.
