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The Trouble With Magic

Fiery, dangerous passion builds between a serenely practical woman and a bankrupt unbeliever

The Trouble With Magic

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Release Date : October 12, 2021

ISBN Number : 978-1-63632-010-6


Kindle Reader = Mobi
Others = Epub


Magical Malcolms Book #3

“Rice’s enchanting book is truly spellbinding.”-Booklist

Daughter of a marquess, Lady Felicity Malcolm Childe is expected to marry well, but her gift of psychometry has always been more curse than blessing. Tired of living in the shadows, wrapped in woolens to deflect the more agonizing images generated by her suitors, Felicity sets out to locate an ancient book of spells that might extinguish her dreadful gift.

A brilliant inventor who can move rivers and harness lightning, Ewen Ives is also a charming rake, but he is not totally irresponsible. He cannot allow a runaway Lady Felicity to travel to Edinburgh unescorted. But Felicity is not the helpless child he assumes. In return for Ewen helping her to find the book, she is determined to save him from the destructive forces only she can sense.

The fiery, dangerous passion that builds between a serenely practical woman and a bankrupt unbeliever might destroy their futures—or fulfill both their dreams


In a starred review, Booklist praised Must Be Magic as “a mystical masterpiece full of enchanting characters, a spellbinding plot, and the sweetest of romances.” Another sweeping tale of love between an irresistibly magical Malcolm woman and a charmingly logical Ives man.

With several million books in print and New York Times and USA Today’s lists under her belt, former CPA Patricia Rice is one of romance’s hottest authors. Her emotionally-charged romances have won numerous awards and been honored as RITA® finalists in the historical, regency and contemporary categories. To receive news of new releases, sign up for her newsletter.

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Kent, England, 1743

“The book, Mama, may I have it, please?” Six-year-old Lady Felicity Malcolm Childe gazed longingly at the hand-painted folio of children’s Bible verses lying open for patrons of the stationery shop to admire. It rested on a counter just out of reach of Lady Felicity’s sticky fingers, but she reached for it anyway.

“Remember what I told you, dear.” Hermione, Marchioness of Hampton, hurried to her daughter’s side. Her hat ribbons blew in the breeze from the open door, and she caught the end of her scarf before it fluttered loose. “Do not touch until you’ve tested it.”

“Yes, Mama.” With her chubby bare fingers, Lady Felicity brushed the air above an open page depicting an angel with long golden hair hanging in silken ringlets that looked remarkably like hers. “Oh, it’s filled with love, Mama. May I hold it, please?”

“Wouldn’t the little girl prefer a candy instead?” The proprietor leaned over his counter with a tempting stick of horehound.

Before Hermione could intervene, Felicity accepted the offering with delight. “Thank you—” As her fingers wrapped around the treat she gasped, and with a flutter of dark gold eyelashes, collapsed in a puddle of silken skirts and petticoats upon the rough wooden floor.

Casting the startled proprietor an appalled glance, Hermione swept her daughter up in her arms and marched out of the shop, panniers swaying with indignation. Waving off footmen and nursemaids who rushed to her aid, she climbed into the waiting carriage, still cradling her frail daughter in her arms.

Within the private confines of the familiar coach, Felicity stirred and woke. With a sob, she clutched her mother and buried her face in the marchioness’s ample bosom.

“Now, now, child, it’s all right. You simply must learn to test before touching, as I’ve taught you.”

“He’s a nasty man,” Felicity hiccupped. “He does nasty things to little girls and they cry. I don’t want to go there anymore.”

Her usually tender mouth firming into a tight line, the marchioness nodded her beribboned head vigorously. “I shall certainly see to that, dear. I will talk to your father, and Mr. Jones shall leave the village at once. You see, your gift is very useful. It will keep him from hurting any other little girls.”

“I don’t want to see bad things anymore,” Felicity whispered. “I hate my gift. It hurts. Why can’t I have another gift?”

Hermione sighed and rocked her daughter in her arms. “You are only given what you are capable of handling, my dear. I know you don’t understand that yet, but your gift is precious and valuable. When you grow into it, you will learn to use it wisely.”

“Christina’s gift doesn’t hurt,” Felicity muttered with a rebellious pout. “She sees pretty things. Why can’t I feel pretty things?”

“You felt love in the book,” Hermione reminded her. “It’s just that sometimes bad things feel stronger than gentle ones. It doesn’t hurt when your family touches you, does it? Or Nanny?”

“Nanny has sad touches,” Felicity murmured sleepily as her mother continued rocking her. “I don’t want to touch any more bad things.”

“Your family will always take care of you, dear. You’ll be safe and happy around familiar vibrations until you’re all grown up and know how to use your gift. Learning comes from experience, but we’ll give you good ones.”

“Can I stay in Papa’s library? It’s nice there.”

Hermione laughed. “No, you cannot live in a library, dear, although your papa would let you try if you wanted.”

“I want to. I don’t want to see any more bad things.” Setting her quivering lip in a firm manner reminiscent of her mother’s, Felicity closed her eyes and slept.

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