The Apothecary's Daughter Part 45

She let the comment fade away. It would be indiscreet and premature to confirm such a presumption. Dr. Graves had moved from London to be near her, had he not? She was grateful he was not pressing her with a declaration, instead giving her time to help her father, to see him well again. And now to help Charlie too. She was fond of Francis, but could not let him distract her from a gentleman like Dr. Graves.

When they reached Haswell's, Francis said, "I will continue to pray for you and every member of your family, dispersed as they are." He squeezed her hand. "I will also see what can be done."

I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.

JOHN NEWTON, AMAZING GRACE, 1772.

CHAPTER 40.

he blind house was like a round, windowless granary with a coneshaped roof. Most villages in Wilts.h.i.+re and surrounding counties kept such a building to temporarily confine wrongdoers.

Lilly knocked on the locked door. "Charlie? Are you all right?"

Hearing nothing, Lilly pressed her ear to the door. She heard a shuffle, then Charlie's m.u.f.fled voice. " *Tis awful dark, Lilly. Nofin' to see."

"We shall get you out, Charlie. As soon as we can."

"Nofin' to see a"

At the distress in her little brother's voice, she pressed her forehead to the wood, blinking back tears.

"Try counting sounds, Charlie," she said, injecting false calm into her voice. "Bird calls, pa.s.sing horses. Whatever you hear, all right? "

No response. Then a feeble, "All right a"

Oh, G.o.d, Lilly prayed, this will not do. Please help us.

"It is a medical matter. An apothecary matter," Charles Haswell a.s.serted, slowly shuffling across the surgery. "Perhaps we should suggest Ackers report it to the Society and let them dole out reprimand or consequence to me as they see fit."

"Would that satisfy Ackers?" Lilly asked, relieved to see her father on his feet. He had even felt strong enough to walk across the village that morning to speak with Charlie through the blind house door. Dr. Graves had given him sweet spirit of nitre, as Francis had suggested. The liquid preparation clearly had some effect, though it remained to be seen how long the improvement would last.

"I don't know. He'd like to get his own pound of flesh, I'd wager. Worse yet, if someone else is pulling his strings."

"Dr. Foster?"

"Would not surprise me in the least."

She'd had the same thought. "Should I call on Mr. Ackers and suggest he refer the case to the Society?"

Charles Haswell ran a weary hand over his stubbled cheeks. "Bill Ackers write a letter? I'd as soon believe the claims of a Cornhill quack."

Lilly was having her tea alone when Maude Mimpurse let herself in the kitchen door. She had been incensed when Lilly had told her the news and had promised to see Charlie just as soon as she could get away.

Over one arm Mrs. Mimpurse bore the straps of a worn leather market bag, in her free hand, a quart jar. A delicious smell of pastry and savory sauce emanated from the bag.

Seeing Lilly eye her burden, Maude explained, "Two Burt meatand-potato pasties and a jar of honey tea. Charlie's favorite."

Lilly rose from the table. "But do you think Mr. Ackers will allow it?"

Mrs. Mimpurse snorted. "You leave Billy Ackers to me."

Her father was in his surgery with Mr. Fowler. But even if she'd had to leave the shop unattended, Lilly would not miss this chance to see Charlie face-to-face.

A quarter of an hour later, coat and blanket in arms, Lilly strode beside Mrs. Mimpurse as the woman marched smartly along the hedgerow. Lilly kept up easily, but Bill Ackers whom Maude had cajoled from his smithy trudged begrudgingly behind.

"Do keep up, Billy. These pasties won't stay warm forever."

Reaching the blind house first, Maude and Lilly waited for the constable to catch up. "Do hurry, Billy. My coffeehouse won't run itself."

"My smithy either," he grumbled. Taking out a pair of old heavy keys, Bill Ackers unlocked the blind house door. "Step back, Charlie," he called gruffly.

Incredulous, Maude said, "As though a lamb like Charlie would run away? Really, Billy."

"All right. Hand'im'is supper."

"Indeed I will not. Why can he not sit here in the sunlight and eat his meal with dignity?"

"He's not on holiday, mum."

"Nor is he an animal. Come out, Charlie. I have a nice supper for you."

Charlie emerged from the darkness and hesitated at the threshold, eyes squinting. Lilly's heart ached to see it.

"Poor love!" Mrs. Mimpurse tutted. "You come out nice and slowlike, Charlie. No hurry."

Bill Ackers sighed.

Glancing shrewdly at him, Mrs. Mimpurse handed him one of the pasties. "For your trouble, Billy."

Four days later, when the post came, Lilly received two letters. One was an all-too common request for payment, but the second set her palms to perspiring.

She found her father alone in the surgery, looking through the newest dispensatory Mr. Shuttleworth had loaned him.

"It is a letter, Father, as I feared. From the Wors.h.i.+pful Society of Apothecaries. It appears Mr. Ackers wrote to them after all."

"I cannot credit it."

"Who else could it be? Foster could have nothing to do with apothecaries, could he? When he so clearly loathes the lot of us?"

He shrugged uneasily. She held out the letter, but he waved it away. "You read it."

She broke the seal and unfolded the fine stationery. " 'The Court of Examiners at Apothecaries' Hall, Blackfriars, London.' "

He frowned. "Spare me the friggling and just lay out the worst."

"Very well. 'It has been reported that one Charles Haswell III has dispensed an adulterated, potentially harmful drug.' "

Her father thundered, "They haven't even the facts!"

" 'Upon receiving any further such reports, the Society will have no alternative but to pursue formal action. Proceedings will then be taken against said person.' "

"Said person? Formal action all the way from London? Fuss and nonsense. What a narration about nothing."

"I am not so certain it is."

"Is that all it is to be, then? A threat? A slap on the wrist from afar? "

"I can hardly credit it," Lilly said. "Can this really be all?"

"I would wish it so."

"Wis.h.i.+ng isn't enough, Father. We must pray it so as well."

Her father stared out the surgery window. "Now, if only we could convince Ackers."

The days pa.s.sed slowly, and Lilly found the wait interminable. Rarely had she felt so helpless, so frustrated, so afraid. She visited Charlie every day, as did Mrs. Mimpurse, Mary, Francis, and her father, when he was able. And she prayed. But as Charlie's imprisonment approached a fortnight, she felt her faith flagging. Had she not prayed for her mother's return to no avail? Her father's healing? Did it really make any difference?

Then, in a moment, everything changed. One minute she and her father were despondently sitting before plates of food neither saw nor wanted, and the next there was Charlie in the doorway. Dirty, odiferous, and wonderful to behold.

"Enough for one more?" he asked, looking at their breakfast.

Lilly gasped, leapt to her feet, and grabbed her brother in a fierce hug. Her father raised himself on shaky legs and squeezed Charlie's shoulder before sinking heavily into his chair. His improvement had not lasted.

"Sit down, Charlie. I can barely believe it. Tell us what happened."

He sat, and they both looked at him expectantly. Charlie eyed her breakfast once more.

"Oh, here." She pushed her untouched plate before him.

They waited impatiently while he took several bites, and then Lilly prompted again. "What happened?"

Charlie shrugged, and said around a bite of cold ham, "Mr. Ackers comes in and says, 'Charlie lad, it's yer lucky day. Mr. Marlow says you work for him and he wants you back. He's responsible for you now, so no more nanny fudgin' about.' "

Lilly shook her head, stunned. "I cannot believe it. Mr. Marlow! And when he had already released you from your contract."

"Must need me straightaway for his Burt garden."

Lilly doubted the garden was in such dire need, but forbore to say so. She did not doubt Mr. Marlow's influence over the constable as leading landowner and future baronet. Beyond that, the two had been boyhood friends. She fleetingly wondered how she had not thought to request his help herself.

"Well," Lilly said, relief flooding her, "we shall have to go and thank Mr. Marlow personally."

After breakfast, she and Charlie hitched up Pennywort and drove the gig to Marlow House. As they drew near, Charlie saw Mr. Timms clipping privet near the fountain and asked to be let down to speak to him. "Very well. But come to the house as soon as you've done so."

She turned the horse toward the stables, but instead of Cecil Briggs coming to take the reins, Roderick Marlow himself strode out, dressed in riding coat and Hessian boots.

Flushed and breathless at his sudden appearance, she burst out, "Mr. Marlow, I have come to thank you."

A smile slowly formed on his aquiline countenance as he looked up at her. "Your brother has been released?"

"Yes, thanks to you."

"I am pleased to hear it." He led her horse and gig into the stable yard.

She stood, preparing to climb down. Lifting his hands, he grasped her by the waist and effortlessly carried her to the ground. She felt her cheeks flush anew. A simple hand down would have sufficed.

"You are very kind. Charlie is with Mr. Timms, but I know he will want to thank you. I'll " She turned to fetch Charlie, but Mr. Marlow took hold of her wrist, halting her departure.

"Please wait." Hand still holding hers, he led her into the stable office. "I am glad for your brother, but do not paint me a saint. I confess I thought only of you."

She inhaled deeply. Her heart beat with heavy thuds. Would he always have such an effect on her?

"I don't know what to say."

"Miss Haswell, speechless?" He grinned. "I am all astonishment."

She tried to smile in return, but her awe was such that her lips only managed a tremble.

He slowly shook his head. "What a man would do, to have a woman forever look at him the way you are regarding me." He reached out and traced a finger along her jawline and chin. "I should very much like to kiss you, Miss Haswell."

She swallowed.

"I must also own that I have never before asked permission."

She said shakily, "You have kissed a great many women, then?"

He considered this. "I would not say a great many. But I have never kissed you, Miss Haswell. That I would remember."