Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(4)

“Grandfather’s estate is large enough to purchase the townhouse your family will need when your heir evicts them. Large enough to establish the laboratory I need for my experiments. And the house and land pay for themselves,” she said in satisfaction.

“Laboratory?” A bout of coughing prevented finishing the question.

He didn’t realize she’d approached until he felt her hands on his chest, pushing him back down into the confounded hard settee. Coughing too hard to object, Dare tried to concentrate on a woman’s hands on him for the first time in forever. They felt good. They felt more than good. It was as if she were pushing warmth into his lungs, forcing them to open up. He almost choked taking a deeper breath than he’d been able to take in months.

She hastily backed away and stared at her now-filthy hands as if they were as diseased as he was. Her voice was a little shaky but did not reflect distaste. “Does your physician use one of those new stethoscopes?” she asked, returning to his table to clean off the soot. “The damage seems worse on one side than the other.”

What the devil did that mean? And since when did ladies lay hands on gentlemen to whom they were not related?

He used a dirty rag to wipe his mouth, wadding up the bloody stain and flinging the rag under the chair. Now that he was breathing again, his coughing settled. “Yes, he uses a stethoscope, for what good it does. Consumption damages lungs. We don’t need to cut open my chest to know that.”

Although he had to wonder how she knew without use of the equipment, but he was focused on a more important topic. “You were speaking of a laboratory?” He tentatively drew another breath. The pain was less. Perhaps having a beautiful woman caressing him drew his blood downward and relieved the pressure.

Suddenly looking brittle enough to break, she focused her attention on polishing glass. “Yes, if I am to help the ill, I need a laboratory to test and perfect my medicines, understand how and why they work,” she said in a voice that sounded as if she tried to convince herself.

“Now that my pharmacopeia is almost finished,” she continued, gaining momentum, “my need for a true laboratory is the reason I’m eager to finally claim my inheritance. A distant cousin of mine has just married. Her new husband owns an old abbey near Harrogate where she means to establish a school for midwives. There are buildings on the grounds suitable for an infirmary, and she wants to establish her own clinic for dispensing her potions.” Her tone mocked his earlier scorn. “She said there is enough room for me to establish a laboratory if I’m willing to aid her in preparing and dispensing medicines.”

Dare pushed himself into a sitting position. Had she been a snake oil dispenser, he would have scorned her herbal quackery. But playing with botany had once been an acceptable lady’s pastime. She didn’t seem intent on poisoning him with it. Yet. “Harrogate?” he asked warily.

“Yes,” she said, setting the expensive glass down with care. “I know nothing of mineral waters, but your mother indicated they were of interest to you. That is one of the reasons I am here.”

“I’ve been attempting to separate the various minerals in spa water, looking for the curative properties,” he admitted. “Harrogate’s waters are particularly potent.”

He hadn’t forgotten the earlier part of her speech, and he continued with caution. “Once you marry, you will inherit an estate near Harrogate and this abbey?”

She nodded. Her velvet-lashed, purple eyes got wider, if that was at all possible.

Despite all her exterior composure, she was nervous, Dare realized. He was a huge brute, lying here like a bull in a field. She was a delicate lady, with a very odd mind, but that didn’t change the fact that she was a gently bred female and should not be here at all.

Which was when his lust-weakened brain comprehended the whole—she knew he was dying. She had come to him with a proposition. She needed a husband. He needed funds. But her courage had failed at the sticking point. He almost fell off the chaise in his haste to show he wasn’t a complete dunderhead.

Dare regained his feet, set aside the glass she was cleaning, and took her ungloved hand. Her bones were little more than twigs.

She hastily snatched her hand back, which made his next gesture awkward. Cautiously leaning on the table, because his strength frequently failed him these days, he got down on one knee.

“Miss McDowell, would you do me the delight and pleasure of becoming my wife?”

She burst into tears and sobbed, “Yes, of course, please.”

And then she grabbed her gloves and began pulling them back on.





Chapter 2





Emilia hated crying. But she’d been so overwrought, and Lord Dare had seemed so unreasonable, and she’d feared all was lost, and now. . . He was on his knees! She’d not expected that at all. She had only thought of this as a business proposition! She did not need romance. Really, she’d be happy to simply sign papers and be done.

Hands shaking, she felt foolish struggling with her gloves after his romantic gesture. But she was still weak from laying her hands on him earlier. She had hoped she’d overcome her fatal compulsion to touch the ill, but not touching was how she came to be unmarried all these years.

And now that he’d actually proposed. . . How could she tell him to keep his hands off her when he was trying so hard to do the right thing?