Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(55)
He saw weeds. “There is no profit in a crop of liverwort!”
“Sadly, no,” she agreed, uncovering more stepping stones and proceeding toward the lowest part of the swamp. “When we start putting money above the needs of people, everyone loses. We’ll kill off valuable herbs that could save human lives. What is the purpose of money if it can’t buy health?”
Stunned, Dare studied the truth of this painful revelation. Weeds could cure him?
He’d spent his entire life learning how to turn everything around him into gold. Even now, he calculated the cost of building a trestle over this swamp. But what good would it do him or others if they died because the herbs they needed were lost?
He’d rather believe the herbs were quackery, but Emilia thought otherwise. And his wife had been right enough times that he couldn’t simply discount her beliefs for his.
“We could move your plants closer to the house,” he suggested, walking on the stones because she seemed to think it important. “We could dig holes and fill them with water. Weeds are hardy. I don’t see the difficulty.” He was practically pleading. There had to be a way.
She sent him a look of pure exasperation. “Put your hand in that stream you’re standing beside.”
Dare crouched down, pulled off his glove, and stuck his hand in the water. “Ah, thermal springs! But this whole area is dotted with springs. One isn’t any more special than the other. I surmise you don’t want to start a spa out here.”
“You surmise correctly,” she said curtly. “These particular mosses would not grow without the spring to keep them warm in winter.” She pointed her cutters at a particularly succulent bunch of slime on the rocks lining the spring. “Those mosses have been known to prevent infection. Do you have any idea how miraculous that would be? Grandfather was unable to find a form in which it could be sold at an apothecary. It needs to be wet and green to work. But if we could hire a botanist, he might learn to grow it elsewhere. We could save millions of lives if we could fight infection. Just think of the soldiers who have lost limbs who might have been saved had this moss been available! But if you destroy the seed and the plant, the opportunity to save others will be lost forever.”
Dare was feeling desperate. “Why should we sacrifice our futures for a few plants that probably grow elsewhere?”
“How many untouched hot springs do you know?” she asked with asperity.
None. And by the time they located one, it would be too late for the railroad.
Dare sighed and brushed ferns back from what appeared to be a carved stone overhanging the stream. He could make out a worn Celtic triple spiral covered in moss, giving evidence that this spring had been a source of water for thousands of years.
“My ancestors were reported to be Druids,” Emilia said, coming to stand over him and admire the carving. “This land has been in our family long enough to make the legend believable.”
“I am a man of science. I don’t believe in water gods or Druids or even in ancient family history. But I respect your belief in the holiness of this place to you family.” He bowed his head in despair, realizing he could never sell this land over Emilia’s objections. She was his family now as much as his mother and sisters. Damn.
“Thank you,” she whispered in what sounded like relief. “I hope someday to make you understand so that you’ll know you did the right thing.”
He’d be dead someday, but he didn’t need to remind her of that regret. “I will talk to Pascoe and Bridey about their land,” he said, placing the future of his family in the hands of others. “And then I shall go to Harrogate with a lawyer and have a good long talk with the banker.”
“Lord Erran Ives is a lawyer. He might still be at Wystan with Ashford,” she said. “I’ll write Lady Ashford and ask if she’ll send him down to talk with you and Pascoe. He’s a lawyer with a powerful gift in his voice.”
Dare scowled at her. “You’re telling me that even men have these mysterious Malcolm abilities?”
She shrugged and smiled brightly. “One of Lord Erran’s great-grandmothers was a Malcolm, one who would have adored this spring. He’ll understand.”
Dare offered his hand to help her up. She took it without hesitation, appeasing his ill humor. “I don’t have the luxury of time for learning superstitions, but for you. . . I want to believe you are different, that you understand what I need. But in return, I know I must listen to what you need. I’m not a complete nod-cock. I understand quid pro quo.”
Proving she was, indeed, a paragon of understanding, she acknowledged his declaration with a nod and said, “We can work together. I wish to understand arsenic. Why would a doctor put poison in a medicine and believe it cured people?”
And then she dropped his hand to crouch on another stone.
“Arsenic is a naturally-occurring element in soil and water,” he told her as she removed a bottle from her apron and filled it at the stream. “It’s quite possibly in that spring water, along with dozens of other minerals. Man has known about it for centuries. It’s a byproduct of copper refining, for instance. It’s been used in pesticides and medicines and may actually be as necessary to the body as fruits and vegetables, since many foods absorb it from the soil.”
“A very complicated element,” she said with a frown, tucking the bottle back in her apron. “You said there are different kinds?”