Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(63)

“Come along with you, then. I don’t have time to waste. Where’s the book you told your father about?” The shadow entered the small interior, allowing daylight to filter in again.

Emilia tried to make herself smaller behind the counter. What book? Had Tess told her father about the pharmacopeia?

“It’s gone,” Tess said in a wavering voice. “They took it to the duke.”

Definitely the pharmacopeia. Why on earth. . . ?

“You’re lying. You always look at your feet when you lie. Where is it?”

The smack of a hard hand against soft flesh and Tess’s cry had Emilia scrambling about, looking for a weapon. If only she could reach the bell pull. . .

Tess wept while Crenshaw slammed the cabinet doors under the counter. The book box was the only thing under there. He couldn’t miss it. With nothing else to use, Emilia grabbed her basket, stood up, and swung it hard at the head of the man just standing up, her precious book box in his arms.

“Pull the bell, Tess, pull the bell!” she shouted as she beat the man soundly with braided straw.

Understandably, he was more startled than harmed. He grabbed the basket and flung it against her wall of shelves, sending jars crashing to the stone floor.

Tess yanked on the cord so hard they could hear the bell ringing in the kitchen.

Crenshaw grabbed Tess’s arm and tugged her toward the door. “Your pa said to bring you home with the book. I’ve got the book. Now come along before you stir up them dogs.”

Outraged at the audacity, Emilia leaped at his broad back. The man was built like a stone monolith. She couldn’t find purchase but wrapped one arm around his neck and yanked at his hair. He dropped Tess long enough to swing his elbow backward, knocking Emilia off like an annoying pest. Free from his hold, Tess stomped his boots and kicked at his shins while wrestling for the box, but he was just too big. He shoved her aside.

“Hell, if you don’t want to go, I don’t want you anyway. I’ve had juicier pieces than you. But this book will keep these nobles in their places, not interfering with us that earn our way.”

Terrified that he would escape, Emilia screamed and grabbed his arm, trying to force him to release her box. “That’s valuable only to me, you oaf!”

He snorted and flung her against the wall. “If you want it back, you tell that man of yours to call off his fancy lawyers.” He strode out.

Tess collapsed on the floor in a puddle of petticoats and noisy sobs.

Seeing servants and even Pascoe running from the main house, Emilia peeled herself off the wall and pointed at the man running down the rear drive. “He hurt Tess and stole my book!”

Pascoe slowed down. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’ll take care of Tess, just catch the wretch!”

Given an excuse for action, Pascoe raced for the stable while the servants ran down the drive. Thinking that should do it, Emilia crouched beside Tess. She feared hugging her, but touching only her chin, she gently tilted the girl’s poor bruised face toward the light. Pain leeched off her in such agonizing waves that Emilia could barely maintain her grip.

“I have some arnica and witch hazel that might help. Did he hurt the babe?” She couldn’t differentiate the pain of the bruise from Tess’s terror and grief, but she released her chin and reluctantly touched the girl’s growing belly. She couldn’t discern anything that indicated danger, although she was fascinated by the stir of life beneath her fingers.

Realizing she was in danger of being sucked in, she tore her hand away.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tess stayed where she was, rocking back and forth with misery.

“Why would your father want my book?” she asked, because logic calmed her, even if it didn’t help Tess.

Tess shook her head. “I wanted him to know I was doing good.” She wept harder.

Emilia tried to puzzle that out but couldn’t. “Is your father an apothecary who can use the recipes?”

“A physician! He can sell your book.” Tess wrapped her arms around herself and struggled to stop weeping. “I think he has something to do with the railroad,” she whispered in shame.

A physician? Emilia started to worry, but Tess came first. Surely Pascoe would ride down the young criminal. “Is Mr. Crenshaw the father of your baby?” she asked, knowing she didn’t know how to ask as judiciously as someone like Aster or Bridey might.

Tess froze, then nodded as color filled her pale cheeks. “He said we’d marry as soon as the railroad made him rich.”

“And then Sir Pascoe and Lord Dare moved in, and railroad progress halted,” Emilia said, as much to herself as to Tess.

Tess nodded, gaining a little more confidence. “I told him it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to be wealthy. That he’d find other investments. But he. . . he called me names and walked out, even after I told him about the babe.”

This time, Emilia did hug the girl. When the hug only brought sharp prickles, she helped Tess to her feet. “You are better off without Mr. Crenshaw, I promise. I’m sorry to say that any man who would strike a woman is a coward and little better than an animal. You could not know that before, but think on it now.”

“My father hit me when he learned of the babe,” Tess whispered, staggering to her feet, only to collapse in her chair and bury her face in her hands. “It’s all my fault. I knew better. I was raised proper. But Charles was so handsome, and no one hardly ever looks at me and. . .”