Page 69 of The Scent of Intuition
“Because I’m below you, again. Still. I was your servant and then you came to ask me for a love potion for a prince! I’m not supposed to feel this way, it’s not allowed.”
She furrowed her brows and stood so absolutely beautiful in his covers that his chest could burst with the love for her. “I can’t love a lady. Couldn’t then and can’t now.”
“I see. All I am is my title and my station.”
“No. That’s not what I said.”
“But it is more important than the truth? What is it that you expect me to say? I recognized you but it took me some time to put the pieces of my only true friend in life together?” She waved in the air and nearly dropped the covers that kept her decent. “I’m the poor aristocrat in the gilded cage and you’re free to roam the world, why pick me? I’d anchor you to the scandal, the Ton, the hypocrisy of the noblesse. With me, you’d be chained to so many rules that they’d stop you from breathing.”
Alfie shook his head. “I never said anything like that. I’d drag you down, Bea. I’m nothing. My parents died on a merchant ship, and I had to work to pay for university. The room I shared with Nick in Vienna is smaller than your closet. I couldn’t even pay for the fare to come to England when my apprenticeship ended, and I had to work off the cost to leave India.” Alfie combed both hands through his hair. “There’s nothing I can offer you but my heart! You can’t raise a family on love alone, I know that I can’t overreach to hold you, but somehow, I can’t stop myself.”
She pressed her lips into a flat line and two large tears ran down her cheek.
He cocked his head. “It’s not my privilege to pick you. I wish it were, Bea. I wish I could speak freely and tell you that I’ve loved you since the day I brought the girl in the veil honey, but it would be silly. It was an infatuation. Now that I truly know you, the person you’ve become, I know it’s the kind of bone-shattering love that I will never recover from.”
“Why should you need to recover?”
“Because I can’t have you, Bea. I’m just an apothecary.”
“And you were just an apprentice in India?”
“Yes.” Alfie dropped his head.
“So what was this? Practice? A test?”
He shook his head. “Untraceable.”
A long awkward pause followed. Alfie wanted to fall to his knees and propose to her, declare his everlasting love and devotion—but it wasn’t his place. She was worth a prince, not merely an apothecary.
She heaved one more time, then wiped the tears from her face and straightened her back. “As I said, it never happened.” Her voice cracked. “Leave me, I must dress and go.”
Yes, Alfie thought. He’d given her the love potion to take the path she ought. At least she now knew what she was missing.
And so did he.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bea left butAlfie had the gnawing sense that he shouldn’t have let her go.
She was on her way to the prince with the love potion and he’d mucked everything up.
The little that remained of the day passed and the scent of rose, walnut, and oat from Bea’s bath hung in the air at 87 Harley Street like a raincloud over Alfie’s head. He didn’t know where she’d gone but he imagined her with the prince. Alfie’s stomach hurt and he was nearly sick with a mix of rage and frustration that it couldn’t be him. He didn’t begrudge the prince anything, his motives were noble, and he was obviously a royal with a pure heart—but that didn’t mean Alfie was willing to let Bea go. He couldn’t because he loved her. She was a part of him, even if he could never be a part of her world.
After he’d walked Chromius a second time, Alfie had shut the apothecary and dragged himself upstairs to his bedchamber. What had he done?
He shouldn’t have… oh, there was no name for what he had done to Bea—but he could lose his practice for touching a well-bred lady in this manner if anyone found out. The damage was done…even though he’d ensured it was undetectable.
What a stupid notion—undetectable. As if the passion they’d shared had not been ingrained in his soul. As if he could ever forget her moans when he’d touched her where nobody else ever had.
As if it could be undone.
Or at least she had an inkling that Alfie had so much more he wanted to show her.
He knew that women had such a thing as a sexual awakening.
And he was an idiot for serving the most beautiful and intelligent woman to a prince—as if a prince needed any help attracting a woman of that caliber.
Alfie balled his hands into fists until his palms hurt from the pressure of his fingertips. Sometimes, he loathed his job. He should have just told her there’s no such thing as a love potion; none could be made, and she’d have to find other ways to attract his attention.
