Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(66)

Her room? Her room was with him. What the devil did she have to be angry at him for? He hadn’t hit her or stolen her book. He’d told her he’d take care of the bullies when he got back. What more could she possibly want from him? And she was bloody well right that she had no right to ask him to change. He damned well wasn’t dead yet. He’d secure his family’s future, and then he’d think about dying in peace.





Chapter 19





Dry-eyed but with a lump in her throat, Emilia watched Dare ride off in the gig the next morning. Theirs wasn’t a real marriage, after all. He had his business and she had hers. Believing they had any sort of partnership just because they enjoyed bedplay was frighteningly weak of her. She had always stood on her own when it came to her work.

Even though she thought her healing was helping Dare, she also had to accept that she wasn’t a miracle worker. She might keep him alive longer, but some day he would die and leave her alone. She had known that from the start, but these past days of seeing him so healthy had blurred reality.

The idea of his inevitable death was appallingly shocking now that she knew him so well. Her heart was in danger of breaking if she didn’t find some way of shutting out her feelings. She must maintain her independence and her goals, just as he did his. If it meant the loneliness of sleeping in separate beds as they had last night, so be it.

Wiping at tears threatening to blind her, she lifted her chin in defiance.

She would defend what was hers—except he’d taken the gig. She needed a carriage if she was to drive into Harrogate and find Tess’s detestable father. She wanted her book back, even if it was just a draft. Her pages had controversial notions that a man steeped in old-fashioned methods might not accept. That he could change her writing was her worst fear. He could change it, sell the book as his own, and no one would believe that a woman had written it.

She sent their new footman to the abbey and requested the loan of the berlin. She dressed plainly but formally for her call on Tess’s father. A physician was not a nobleman. He was not even necessarily a wealthy man. She didn’t wish to intimidate with outer trappings, but with conviction and guilt. Once faced with the real owner of the book, he had to see his threat was an empty one.

The berlin arrived bearing Bridey and Tess. Lord Erran rode along beside it. He swung off the horse and asked for the remaining copy of the finished manuscript. Knowing she could trust Erran to deliver it to the duke, acknowledging that it was no longer safe here, she sent him in to Bessie.

Emilia was more concerned with the occupants of the carriage. “Bridey, you cannot go with me!” she exclaimed in genuine distress as the footman opened the door. “Neither of you should be out riding in your conditions!”

“Don’t be silly,” Bridey said dismissively, inching over on the seat to make room for her. “We’re not made of glass. This carriage rides so smoothly, it’s no different from walking. I’m the midwife here, and a better judge than you.”

But Bridey had miscarried before. Emilia would have nibbled her nail if she hadn’t been wearing gloves. Dealing with people was so much more difficult than plants.

“If you don’t climb in, we’ll go on without you,” Bridey warned. “I’m having a strong word with Dr. Thomas, and Tess needs to confront him as the woman she has become. He cannot keep treating her as an object to be dragged around at his whim. The man needs correcting.”

“Where are Pascoe and Mr. Madden?” Emilia asked in resignation, climbing in.

“They have gone in search of young Crenshaw. But Dr. Thomas must be taught that threatening us is not acceptable.”

As the former Countess of Carstairs, Bridey had almost single-handedly run a village and large estate. She knew more of these matters than Emilia ever would. If she was to learn to stand on her own, she should take lessons from her friend.

Taking a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap, Emilia admitted her other concern. “Dare took the gig to Leeds to finalize the railroad negotiations. I fear he will make himself ill, and I won’t be there to help.”

Guilt ate at her for the decision to allow him to go alone. If he had one of his coughing spells. . . She tried to tell herself he did not have asthma. He would come out of it. She prayed.

Bridey nodded in understanding. “Men make their own choices and we must suffer for them. It’s not easy finding a common ground where we are both comfortable with decisions that affect us equally.”

Finding out that it was her nature to care didn’t make her decision easier. That she’d made her choice in anger didn’t help. She simply had to hope she was right to send him alone so she could pursue her own concerns—as he had his.

The ride into Harrogate was tense. Gray clouds reduced the August heat, but the rain didn’t break before they reached town. Tess gave directions to her father’s house. The street was narrow and the wide berlin filled the pavement once it halted at a modest three-story town house.

With a footman and driver accompanying them, Emilia felt safe enough climbing out. Tess had come from a solid home and an educated family. It was just confrontation that she was bad at.

But with Bridey and Tess at her side, she couldn’t turn back. She nodded at the footman to rap on the door. A maid in a long white apron answered. Her eyes widened at sight of Tess.

“We will see Dr. Thomas,” Emilia said stiffly, handing over her card. Technically, a viscountess ranked over a baronetess, so her card bore more weight. Bridey’s experience and composure meant more than a title, but that was hard to prove with a bit of paper.