He smiled grimly. “I already knew that, having had leeches attached to every part of my head in the previous year. Heberden’s prime remedy is a concoction of Peruvian bark; that, too, was inefficacious. I might add, Gabby, that Heberden seemed somewhat startled by the number of cures I had already undertaken, which included taking valerian, myrrh, musk, camphor, opium, hemlock—even sneezing powders. And there was the fraudulent doctor in Bath who covered me with fomentations made of hemlock and balsam. I smelled like a pine forest for days.”

Gabby bit her lip. “Did Dr. Heberden have any ideas other than the bark?”

“He advised me to put blisters behind my ears during an attack,” Quill said with a sarcastic twist of his lips. “You can judge the efficacy of that remedy from the lack of blisters around my person. He then tried to push opium on me, but I have a persistent dislike of the idea that addiction is an appropriate substitute for sexual activity. After that, I decided that I had better live with the malady as it is. In fact, the last medicine I took was a miracle drug my mother bought from a quack located in the Blackfriars. Doctors informed me two weeks later, after I recovered from a prolonged attack of delirium, that the drug almost killed me. It did not, however, cure my migraines.”

Gabby thought of mentioning her letter to Sudhakar, but dismissed it. Quill had a fiercesomely stubborn look to him.

“I have vowed not to take any further medicines, Gabby.” He cleared his throat. “I realize that my weakness impinges on your happiness. I probably shouldn’t have married you.”

“Well, that’s just it,” she said.

Quill’s heart sank to his knees. He could feel the sarcastic smile on his face turn to stone. She was right, of course. She had every reason to scream at him, to leave him, to divorce him. All justifications were flimsy before her well-earned reproach.

“You did marry me,” Gabby pointed out. “And now the problem is ours, not yours.”

“I fail to follow your reasoning,” Quill said with deadly courtesy. “I shall be quite happy not to bother you with invalidish behavior. I assure you that I will not require nor request your presence during these episodes.” His heart was beating so slowly and heavily that he felt rooted to the ground.

Gabby scowled at him. “I said nothing concerning your behavior during migraines. I merely said the problem is now ours rather than yours alone. What I meant is that we should approach the question of remedies together.”

“No one—and certainly not a wife—is going to dictate my decisions,” Quill said between clenched teeth. “I refuse to take any more half-baked remedies. The situation stands, and you will have to live with it.”