Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(9)

In fact, she was very bad at thinking of others. She’d never really needed to do so—unless they were ill.

“I am not an invalid yet,” he growled, glaring down at her.

Oh, dear, she had so hoped. . . She raised her chin as she had learned to do when arguing with gentlemen. “You will be an invalid much sooner if you do not take care of yourself.”

“I will take care of me,” he insisted. “I do not want posies or soup or mattresses. Men take care of women, not the other way around.”

She thought her eyebrows might fly off her head. “That is the most absurd notion I’ve ever had the displeasure of hearing. Women take care of men from birth. You’d be incapable of feeding yourselves otherwise. You may remove the mattress, if that is your desire, but I will refrain from carrying you out of the carriage if you pass out before we reach our destination.”

She was shivering with temper—on her wedding day! She had tried so hard to think of a way to please him. . .

He turned his glower back to the unusual arrangement across the seats. “I detest being reminded that I am ill.”

“I detest being told I am female and thus weak,” she retorted.

“Women are weak,” he insisted. “I should know, I’ve lived with them all my life.” Rather than argue or posture more, her groom climbed in to test the strength of the plank. Apparently satisfied, he reached down for her hand and lifted her in. “But I appreciate that you thought of my comfort.”

He did not say it in a tone of mollification, but at least he’d accepted the arrangement.

“If. . . if we are to learn to live together. . .” Taking a seat, Emilia twisted her gloved hands as she nervously sought words. The footman shut the door, enclosing her in the dim interior with the imposing gentleman attempting to situate himself on a mattress far too short for his length. She took a breath and tried again. “We need to learn more about each other’s likes and dislikes. I had thought this might be similar to the settee in your study.”

She pushed a pillow behind his back to give him more support.

Dare flung his tall hat over the toe of his shoe and loosened his cravat. Without warning, he found her hat pin, removed it, and flung her hat on the far seat as well. “If you really wish to learn my preferences, I prefer to see your face.”

She ducked her head to look at her hands. “As I prefer to conceal it,” she countered, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She despised that blush with all her heart and soul.

She really had not thought it through when he’d insisted that he journey with her to Yorkshire. But how could she have denied him? He was ill. For better or worse, he was her husband now.

Dare coughed, fought with a reply, then leaned back against the pillows in disgust while he fumbled for his handkerchief. Emilia opened her reticule and removed a paper of horehound drops.

“I wish these did more than suppress the cough,” she murmured.

“Safer than opium,” he gasped between bouts. “Can you reach the valise?”

Normally, she would have questioned. But this transition from being herself into being part of a couple was awkward. If they were to share the same house for a while, she would like him to be comfortable with her. He was helping her achieve her dream, after all, and even in her self-absorption, she recognized that a dying man ought to be given what made him happy. But she heartily disapproved of patent medicine, which is what she feared he had in his valise.

She tugged the bag out anyway and set it in the small space between them, opening the latch so he needn’t struggle to sit up more.

He rummaged with one hand until he pulled out a clear bottle that appeared to be no more than water. “Mineral water,” he said, as if understanding her curiosity. “It can’t hurt to try.”

She smiled in relief and returned the valise to the floorboards. “People have been drinking it for centuries. I don’t think it’s killed anyone yet, although I doubt that it has cured them either.”

He swallowed the water, then took one of her lozenges. “We have no way of knowing what it does. We need more scientific means of experimenting, which requires comparison between groups using the waters and those who don’t. And even then, every person and every disease is different, so it would take very large groups for the experiment to be effective.”

This was the kind of conversation she understood, and she was delighted that he didn’t think her too feeble-witted to comprehend. “If we only understood the source of the disease, it might be easier to experiment with than with people. It is one of the reasons I’ve wished for a microscope, but the university will not allow me to use theirs, and they’re too expensive for my budget.”

With the coughing halted, he folded up his handkerchief, set aside his bottle, and angled himself so he could see her. “I’m surprised you know anything about microscopes and experimentation. Most women simply nod knowingly and talk about their modiste when I mention them.”

Emilia tried very hard not to shoot him a look of icy disgust. He seemed teachable. She would be patient. “Most women aren’t given the education I have.” Or the incentive to learn what she needed. Unfortunately, she thought telling him of her healing ability would push his credulity if he didn’t even believe she had a brain.

He nodded, looked doubtful, and apparently tested her by saying, “I have the most recent Dolland instrument, but lighting is still a problem. Chemical methods are more successful in separating the elements of water.”