Free The Marriage Spell by Mary Jo Putney Page A

“I’m surprised you made the attempt to save me. How did you manage to mend a broken neck?”
    â€œEssentially, it’s a matter of visualizing the bones strong and whole, then adding healing energy.”
    â€œSurely there is more to it than that?”
    â€œA
lot
of energy is required,” she agreed. “It isn’t only bones that need repairing, but blood vessels and organs and bits of anatomy for which I have no name. The work requires patience, some knowledge of how bodies work, and a clutch of strong, steady wizards to supply power, since I’ve never heard of an individual wizard strong enough to fuse a broken bone. Even with a dozen people in the circle, repairing your broken neck was a near run thing.”
    â€œIs that why such miracles are rare?”
    She nodded. “It’s unusual to have enough wizards ready, willing, and possessing the right kind of gift. The only reason we had enough here was because my father organized the wizards in this area years ago.”
    â€œI should like to meet your father.”
    â€œYou will. He should be back from London within the next week.” She sighed. “I wish he had been here to help. He would have done a better and more efficient job of leading the circle. I’ve never channeled so much power, and even so, I wasn’t able to do a complete job. Only those injuries that were life threatening were fully healed, and everyone involved was magically depleted. It will probably be a fortnight before we are all at full strength again.”
    â€œI suspect that you did as well as your father could have.” His fingers plucked at the coverlet. “How can I repay those who gave me so much?”
    She hesitated, wondering if she could make him understand. “Magic is a gift and not for sale. A healer or wisewoman will charge for his or her time, but not for the magic itself. What was done for you was—extraordinary. Not the sort of thing that is done for money, but because of a desire to serve.”
    He gave a faint smile. “I believe you are saying not to insult your friends by offering crass payment?”
    After she nodded, he said, “Very well. Rather than money, I would like to give each a token of my gratitude. A substantial gift chosen for their particular wants and desires rather than a fee for what is beyond price. Would that be acceptable?”
    So he did understand. “It should be.”
    A few sheets of paper and a pencil rested on the bedside table. He lifted both and prepared to take notes. “What would your friends like? I assume you know them well enough to have a good idea.”
    Abby thought. “Ella is fifteen and loves all animals, especially horses, but her widowed mother can’t afford to buy her one. Nothing would make Ella happier than to have a horse of her own.”
    He made a note, writing slowly but clearly. “I have a sweet-natured mare, beautifully mannered but with spirit, that would be just right for a young lady,” he said. “Will that do, along with a bit of money for maintaining the beast?”
    â€œElla will be in alt.” Knowing the value of a well-bred horse, Abby realized he was serious about the gifts being substantial. What would best please her generous friends, none of whom were wealthy? “Mr. Hambly’s eldest daughter followed her husband to America,” Abby said, thinking aloud. “Mr. and Mrs. Hambly would love to visit and see their grandchildren, but trips to America are costly.”
    He made another note. “Two tickets on a good ship to America. I presume they would also appreciate a carriage to take them from their home to a port of embarkation?”
    â€œThat would be very thoughtful.” What next? “The Reverend Wilson has a lovely eighteen-year-old daughter. Her parents would like her to have a Season in London, but they can’t afford that.”
    He made another note. “My sister is a