Page 11 of The Marquess's Scandalous Game
Emma met his gaze. “My father was in anguish, and my five siblings were despondent. It was a challenging time for us, but I firmly believe that although it tested my mettle, I was stronger having gone through the misery. The entire experience made me want to help others even more.”
“You refer to your healing?”
Emma’s breath caught. Dared she hope for him to have a genuine interest in her practice of healing?Nonsense.
Emma took one of the pastries, bit into it, and savored the delicious taste. She could feel cream on her lips, and her tongue darted out to lick it away. Lord Adlington’s bright gray eyes regarded her shrewdly, and she shifted on the sofa.
It took Emma a moment for her to find her voice. “Yes. Do you know there is a popular suspicion that healers provide poisonous pills and exotic potions that will cause one’s death.”
He raised a brow and humor gleamed in his gaze. Suddenly she was glad to see that amusement for it meant some of his sadness had eased.
“I gather this is why you drew quite a dramatic comparison with being burned at the stake, Miss Corbett.”
Emma contemplated if she should say more, for he may already know too much. On the other hand, since he had shown some interest, she may yet be able to win him over. She flashed him a winning smile and a tiny glow cheered her. “Yes. Most women classed as witches were actual healers who served the peasant population. The aristocracy, state, and the church suppressed these women.”
Lord Adlington was attentive and leaned into her. “That may be so, but the witch craze has ended.”
Emma was slightly amused. “Not quite, my lord.”
He arched a brow. “Not quite, Miss Corbett? Surely you exaggerate the matter.”
“Persecution has taken on different forms at different times and places but never lost its essential character. Healers are still frowned upon by many.”
“I take your point. But would you agree that there was a bit of a free-for-all with the practice of physicians and healers? I believe there were serious shortcomings which made a strong case for restricting both practices.”
Emma smiled, finding their conversation stimulating. “Healer’s knowledge and skills have increased over time. Many healers have improved their knowledge and prevented many deaths for those in the peasant population.”
Lord Adlington smiled. “You are passionate.”
The corners of Emma’s mouth lifted in a wide smile. “I strongly believe in healing. May I offer you some pastries?” She thought she was being too talkative; still, she was careful not to boast about her wealth of knowledge.
“Thank you.” Lord Adlington accepted a strawberry tart, and they ate silently for a moment.
“Do you have knowledge of the barber-surgeon?”
Emma’s head jerked up, for she was not expecting such a question. Was he truly interested? She quickly rallied and said, “Well, I know that many people rely upon the barber-surgeon to provide the care and treatments that physicians would not. Our dear physicians do not wish to do gruesome or grubby work. It was the barber-surgeons who were charged with conducting surgical operations, even doing amputations. They saved many lives even though they did not have university training like physicians. It was their experiences that counted.”
The marquess’s gaze gleamed. “I am impressed with your knowledge, Miss Corbett.”
She took pleasure in the conversation for she did not hear any rebuke in his tone. Emma found those gray eyes once more, and she did not look away when their gazes locked. She grew hot and was sure her cheeks were stained pink, for his gaze bore into her. It was as if he could see inside her soul. Her heart pounded. She was mesmerized, but this time, Lord Adlington broke the stare. She saw something in his eyes but did not know how to decipher the silent expectation.
“I am curious; what does your father think of your interests?” Lord Adlington asked, although she believed he had already formed an opinion.
Emma hesitated, then said, “He is not particularly keen for me to be involved. He thinks I should marry and raise children like aristocratic ladies do.”
Lord Adlington appeared smug, a little smile plastered to his lips. She wanted to wipe the smile from his face. Her gaze was fixed on his lips. They were so well formed.
He continued in a conciliatory tone, “You said that you did not wish to marry, so agreeing to see me was not an altogether easy decision to make. I want to court you so we can get to know each other.” He appeared genuine.
“That would please me, my lord.” Although Emma was unsure, she was prepared to wait and see.
Lord Adlington appeared relieved. “Will you accompany me to the Royal Ascot on the morrow?”
“I enjoy the races, and it has been some time since I have been. Thank you.”
“Your father has decided not to attend, but I am sure you will be accompanied. Thank you for the stimulating conversation and the tea,” Lord Adlington said.
Emma paused. She should probably not speak of it, but she felt compelled to. “I have only agreed to courting, nothing more.”
