Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(58)
“As I understand it, the Malcolms are already behind Bridey,” Dare said in confusion. “You don’t need me to have their support.” Now the problem was resolved, Dare started toward the house and his wife.
Pascoe made an indelicate snort. “You really need to look into your wife’s family history.”
Dare shook his head. “History has nothing to do with anything. Even if I should be so desperate as to sell Emilia’s swamp, I don’t understand how it affects you and Bridey.”
“Her family will blame me for not selling my plot. I’m an Ives. My family fought the Malcolms for centuries. Hostilities did not end until the women regained control of that drafty lump of stone in Wystan. Do not expect logic when it comes to family feuds.”
Feuding with women? What could they possibly do except. . . Dare grimaced. In marriage, a shared bed could become a battleground. He understood that better than family feuds and history.
“Emilia’s generosity will allow my family to have a home after I’m gone,” he explained. “I cannot stand in the way of her dreams, if she believes that swamp is worth saving. Help me find a way to protect my investment, and I’ll do whatever is necessary to help our wives,” Dare heard himself saying. He hoped to hell he knew what he promised.
Picturing Peter gloating while Dare’s mother and sisters starved, Dare locked his jaw in determination. Somehow, he’d find a way to take care of his wife as well as his family. Although admittedly, he’d nearly killed himself in succeeding this far.
Fighting from his deathbed did not seem very appealing.
“You cannot sell my land!” Emilia shouted at Pascoe and Dare the moment they returned to the house. “I will write my father and the executor and Ashford and the king himself, but you cannot sell my grandfather’s hard work!”
Dare raised his eyebrows and exchanged glances with Sir Pascoe. Emilia almost took a painting off the wall to pound both men with it.
“Told you so,” Pascoe murmured.
Bridey grabbed Emilia’s hand before she could fling her favorite teacup. “That’s his smirking cat-in-cream look. Let them speak before we declare war.”
“Your father trusted me with your land for reasons,” Dare declared indignantly. “I shouldn’t have to justify my decisions.”
If Bridey hadn’t been holding her arm, Emilia would have flung the cup. “Why should I trust my father’s decision any more than yours? I want you to promise to never sell my grandfather’s land!”
“Even if we’re starving? Or my family is in danger of starving?” The obstinate man crossed his arms and glared at her. “You would take that choice from me?”
“Yes, yes, I would. It’s my land. Only I know its value. I want it deeded to me directly.” Emilia crossed her arms and glared back.
“Wystan Tower,” Pascoe said, seemingly senselessly. Then, when Dare didn’t appear ready to commit to giving up any of his authority, he continued, “I am selling my land.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly at his bride.
“We’ll have smoking noisy engines running through the yard?” Bridey asked in dismay.
“Not so close as that,” Pascoe said. “Give me the same chance you told Emilia to give Dare.”
Bridey scowled, but the door knocker rapped. Emilia exchanged a glance with Dare, who shook his head. They all paused, waiting for the footman to enter with a card. He handed it to Dare, who scowled even worse than Bridey had.
“One cannot deny entry to pestilences if they are family, can one?” he asked. “The rest of you may want to sneak out the back way. If I kill him, you can pretend you never knew he was here.”
Unsettled by the argument, Emilia shook her head at Bridey’s and Pascoe’s looks of concern. “Have a seat. You must meet Dare’s charming heir so you understand his lack of hospitality.”
Eyes alight with curiosity, their visitors returned to their seats and waited expectantly as the guest was fetched.
Peter Dare entered looking as dapper as Emilia remembered from the wedding. He wore a small blue jewel in his neckcloth and a rather garish gold watch on a chain at his waist. His attire was of the latest fashion and neatly tailored to suit his small frame. His smile didn’t falter at seeing that Dare had guests.
After making the introductions, Dare asked rudely, “What do you want, Peter? It will be a long time until I’m at death’s door. The country air agrees with me,” he added acidly.
Emilia noted his cousin didn’t look daunted but merely produced a packet of papers from his inner coat pocket.
“Your mother asked me to carry these to you. She was concerned that you have not written lately, and I had business in Harrogate anyway.”
“What business did you have visiting my mother?” Dare took the package and began flipping through letters.
Peter shrugged. “I stopped to ask her if I could see the size of the townhouse. Annette is expecting our fourth child, and she’s concerned the nursery won’t be large enough. It’s a shame the house can’t be sold.”
Emilia caught Dare’s clenched hand and squeezed warningly, then spoke before he could. “How charming of you to think of Lady Dare at a time like this. I do hope you won’t mind, but we were just on our way out. Thank you so much for carrying the messages.” She rose so the gentlemen must also.