Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(65)
“I’m not sure I’ll ever become used to the idea of men having our gifts.” Emilia kneaded her brow. “I don’t suppose we can teach them to write down what they learn in journals?”
“Doubtful,” Bridey said with a little more cheer. “I think Pascoe smells emotion. Do you think men will even admit that they have moods?”
Feeling abysmally lonely and wishing Dare might whisper reassuring words of a love he would never feel, Emilia shook her head. “I doubt they even know what emotion is.”
With that, she packed up to return to her husband, who enjoyed her bed but gave all appearance of forgetting her existence just as every other man she’d ever met did. Was it worth the effort to fight for his attention?
In the stable yard, seeing Emilia climb from the gig mussed, wide-eyed, and terrified, Dare felt his gut spasm worse than it had full of arsenic. He dropped his paperwork and rushed outside in his shirtsleeves. She threw herself into his arms and clung to him, trembling.
Fear wrapped his heart. What the deuce could make a woman as head-strong as his wife tremble? He drove his hand into her hair and held her against him. “Who do I have to kill?” he growled. And he meant it. He would throttle whoever had frightened her.
“They have my book!” she cried.
He couldn’t tell if she was terrified or furious. Either way, rage bolted through him. Her book? He understood enough to know that from her perspective, they might as well have killed her.
“They’re threatening us! He hit Tess! I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,” she cried, burying her face in his linen.
Dare rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her without having any notion of what she meant or what he was doing. His rational wife did not descend into hysterics for nothing and someone had to pay.
While the new groom rushed in to tend the pony, Dare led Emilia inside and ordered tea. Mrs. Wiggs took one look at Emilia’s tear-stained face and began snapping orders.
While Emilia spilled her dreadful story, the housekeeper ran in and out with the tea tray and handkerchiefs, wearing a grim expression. Dare wanted to jump up and beat the threatening coward, but Emilia clung to him, and he couldn’t let her go while she was in this state. Even the tea didn’t settle her as she kept repeating and adding to her story.
When she finally calmed, Mrs. Wiggs marched in. “Tess is a good girl,” she said stoutly.
Emilia nodded and wiped at her eyes with a soggy handkerchief. “She was trying to make her father happy for her. It’s not her fault.”
It damned well sounded like the girl’s fault to him. She’d told her father about Emilia’s book. She’d had no right. But Dare kept his mouth shut, knowing he could do nothing that wasn’t already being done. His inability to gallop about the countryside as he pleased, limiting his options, grated.
The housekeeper nodded, satisfied. “Her da is my cousin’s son. I’ll give you his name and direction. I never liked the man, and I don’t want that girl anywhere near him, but if Tess can get your book back, I’ll tell her she must do so.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wiggs,” Dare said, dismissing her. Now that they had some notion of where to find the book, it wasn’t his biggest concern. That anyone would hold his wife’s work as ransom for his behavior irked him, but he didn’t consider it a serious threat. Shoving Emilia, however, required retribution—and it would have to wait. That riled him even more, but his business was more urgent. Beating a coward into mash had to wait.
He kissed Emilia’s tear-stained cheek, wishing he dared kiss her as she deserved, but he wouldn’t risk her catching his disease. “I must go to Leeds to finalize the railroad documents so we can begin laying track. I’m hoping you will go with me. When we return, we’ll take care of this problem for once and for all. No one is treating you like that and getting away with it. Crenshaw and Tess’s father and anyone else involved will pay.”
Her eyes were purple pools as she gazed up at him. “I just want my book back,” she whispered. “I don’t want him selling what I’ve spent my life working on!”
Dare patted her shoulder. “He only has the draft. There isn’t much he can do. Erran can take the original over to Sommersville. Your book is fine. But violence is not. Pascoe and I will handle this.”
She narrowed her eyes and pulled away. “Did you not just say you were going to Leeds?”
Dare had a suspicion he’d said something wrong, so he phrased his reply with care. “The investors are meeting there instead of London in deference to my health. I think I can safely take the gig that far without consequences. You can come along to quack me all you like.”
“When?” she asked, setting her cup down.
“Tomorrow,” he said warily. “The investors from the northern line are there to finalize the deal. We have everything in place. We need rail to be laid as soon as possible to prevent any more threats to our property or Pascoe’s. We can’t let this ridiculous ransom attempt halt our plans.”
“I see.” She rose stiffly. “My business, like your health, is of less importance than your investments. I entered this marriage understanding that money must be your priority. I have no right to ask you to change. I don’t think I can accompany you tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me, I have a headache. I think I’ll have my meal sent to my room.”