Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(53)
For his peevish complaint, she laughed and pinched his taut skin. At least he wasn’t calling her crazed. “You lack knowledge and experience, that is all. If you had studied Malcolm abilities as Bridey and I have. . . Wait, Bridey was here?”
“What else was I to do? You wouldn’t wake up.” He hugged her tighter, as if he really cared enough to worry about her, which thrilled her more than it should. She knew her family loved her, because they had to. She had not expected Dare to care what happened to her one way or another—especially after he’d so carelessly dismissed her yesterday.
“Sorry to cause you such inconvenience,” she said dryly.
“You were passed out cold and looked like hell,” he continued, sounding aggrieved.
“Thank you for the flattery.” She knew she ought to be insulted, but she thought she preferred his frustration to her mother’s tears. “I will attempt to look like a sleeping princess next time.”
He glared at her for her facetiousness. “Whatever you did, don’t do it again.”
She thought about that—and rejected it. “I’ve been avoiding my gift all my life, substituting with studying healing herbs in hopes I can be more useful without risking my own well-being. I’m thinking that was a mistake. I should have been experimenting, looking for ways of touching that will not cause me to drain my energy.”
He punched a pillow and sat up, looking stubborn. “I don’t want you risking your life on anyone, even me. I prefer your studies.”
Smiling, she stroked his masculine chest as she might rub a dog. “See, this does not hurt me. I’m not sure why yet, since I’ve not experimented. It may just be you or it may be my physical reaction to you. I have no way of knowing.”
He growled deep in his throat. “I don’t want you touching other men to find out.”
She punched his arm. “Don’t be selfish. What I need to do is find some way of grounding myself, so the healing current does not drain me. Once I’m connected, once I go really deep and feel the tissues healing, it’s difficult for me to stop. My gift, my power, whatever this is that I possess, wants to keep healing until everything is perfect again. But doing so weakens me, especially in a case like yours, where the damage is too extensive. I’m not even certain what I can repair—tissues or just symptoms.”
She’d been so foolish to waste all those years. . .
He hugged her and pressed a kiss to her head. “Then do not experiment unless one of your family is nearby to ground you. It does no one any good if you kill yourself, which reminds me. Bridey says she can’t tell if you’re with child, or if that caused you to faint. There was some folderol about Wystan if we want an heir and souls and more nonsense I cannot interpret. What did she mean?”
“That’s not any easier to explain,” she protested, snuggling against him. “Wystan was once a medieval Malcolm stronghold. It is filled with our journals, a place of retreat for Malcolm women when they’re in the family way, and also a place to go if we wish to be in the family way. If you would like to understand us, you might go there someday and study what makes us who we are. But as we understand it, Wystan is full of the souls of Malcolms who have passed beyond the veil and who are eager to return their gifts to the world. Evidence over the centuries has proved that conception is guaranteed, whether wanted or not, if men are allowed loose in that tower.”
He snorted. “That’s a very convenient fairy tale. I like it. Bridey also told me that I’m too ambitious. Is she a fortune teller?”
Emilia chuckled at his offended sensibilities. She pushed away so she could meet his worried eyes. “Bridey is of Malcolm descent, like the duke and I. She reads auras—the color of the spirit inhabiting you. She says every color has a meaning, but that’s all I know. But I don’t need her to read your colors to know you’re ambitious. I don’t know why ambition would be wrong, unless it means you’re the one allowing railroads to threaten our property. And in the meantime, I’m starved.”
He still wore his trousers. She was still in her chemise. The servants would be in to check on them soon. There was no time for intimacies.
“I understand medieval tower and journals and study. But you seem to be saying we could go to this place and make babies?” Dare asked in interest. “Are we talking magic?” He cupped her breast through her chemise.
“No, we’re not talking magic.” She arched longingly into his caress, but she was too hollow to do more. “Unless you believe life is magical, which I suppose it is. Bridey had difficulty conceiving and never carried a babe past the first month or two, but after being with Pascoe in Wystan, she immediately conceived and seems to be carrying the child well. This is the kind of thing that happens there, with such regularity that we do not question why. It just is. We’ve spent a lifetime studying our family anomalies. You cannot expect to learn them overnight.”
His brow puckered as he tried to comprehend. “I’m a man of science, but I accept that there are many things in this world that we have not studied sufficiently to comprehend. If I did not have this railroad business hanging over our heads, I’d fling you in the carriage and head for Wystan today.” He hugged her close and kissed her hair.
Emilia graced him with her best smile, before the railroad business reminded her of yesterday’s events. Reluctantly, she climbed out of bed to gather her clothes and explain what she’d learned from her visit to Hadenton.