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Authors: Charlotte Betts

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #General

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‘If I had not been there …’ Henry Savage shook his head sorrowfully.

‘Then I am greatly in your debt, sir.’

He smiled. ‘This is true but all I ask in return is that I may be introduced to your husband.’

‘He is not at home just now. Perhaps you would come back later? Or …’ Arabella tapped her cheek while she thought. ‘I have
a better idea. Since I have such cause to be grateful to you, will you and your cousin do us the honour of dining with us
tonight?’ She smiled prettily. ‘I shall have a chance to show off my new dress and perhaps by then I may have restored some
order to the household.’

Susannah’s eyes met those of Dr Ambrose and her boiling indignation was instantly extinguished by his incredulous expression.
She clasped a hand over her mouth and saw the doctor turn away to stifle his own amusement.

Mr Savage bowed again. ‘I am sure I speak for my cousin when I say we will be delighted to dine with two such beautiful ladies.
And your husband, of course.’

The rays of the evening sun slanted through the parlour window making a golden halo of Arabella’s fair hair and touching her
buttercup silk dress with shimmering radiance. She looked divine, thought Susannah, in spite of the vulgar over-embellishment
of the blue ribbon rosettes.

Perfectly aware of the effect she was having on not only her husband but also her male guests, Arabella flirted shamelessly
with them all.

Susannah had put on her green silk with her mama’s pearl pendant and carefully arranged her auburn curls as well as she could
over the bandage Dr Ambrose had wound about her forehead. She knew she was not in her best looks and her head throbbed like
a blacksmith’s anvil even though she had rubbed oil of lavender onto her temples. She feared she would have a black eye by
the following day.

Mr Savage had an engaging manner and, although it was obvious he had no compunction about using his charm to persuade Cornelius
to place an order for sugar and rum, it was gracefully done.

‘I am determined to make a success of my new life here in London,’ he said.

‘If you can so easily bamboozle me into doing business with you, there should be no difficulty about that,’ said Cornelius,
pouring him another glass of wine.

‘Unfortunately the plague has caused many merchants to flee to the country and it is not as easy as I hoped to sell even such
good quality merchandise as I offer. But I assure you that you will be delighted with the sugar and rum you have ordered,
once the
Mary Jane
has docked.’

‘And
you
may be assured I will come looking for you if I am not,’ said Cornelius.

‘Mr Leyton did not amass his fortune by allowing tricksters to cheat him,’ said Arabella. ‘He is most particularly careful
with his money. As I should know.’ She smiled at her husband to sweeten the words.

Susannah resisted the impulse to say that Arabella had caused her father to loosen his purse strings more in the past few
months than at any time in the previous eleven years and concentrated instead on the way Henry Savage’s golden-brown hair
curled so attractively against his shoulders.

‘Henry won’t be hard to find if you are disappointed with your goods,’ said Dr Ambrose, ‘since he is living with me at present
at my aunt’s house in Whitefriars, Mr Leyton.’

‘I have met Mistress Fygge,’ said Cornelius to Susannah. ‘A formidable woman; well read and with a lively curiosity. How is
your aunt, Dr Ambrose?’

Dr Ambrose’s mouth curled into something resembling a smile. ‘Aunt Agnes is as she always is.’

Susannah realised that Mr Savage was looking thoughtfully at her, studying her face as if he’d only just noticed her. Discomfited,
she tried to meet his gaze with equanimity. She always found it hard to think of something interesting to say to a handsome
man. Hastily she remarked, ‘It must be a wonderful thing to travel the world. Tell us about—’

‘Is London so very different from Barbados?’ interrupted Arabella, loathe to have attention placed upon any other woman.

Mr Savage laughed. ‘You cannot imagine how different. London is so frenetic. Life moves at a slow pace on a plantation, except
in the fields, of course. My father has two hundred acres and over a hundred slaves.’

‘I have seen black slaves,’ said Susannah, determined not to let Arabella shove her oar in, ‘working at the docks or as menservants
to the wealthy.’

‘I should not care to have one in the house,’ said Arabella, making a face.

‘I hear they can be schooled,’ said Cornelius.

‘Indeed they can!’

Arabella sniffed. ‘We shall have to take your word for that, Mr Savage. My brother has trained his parrot to speak but it
has no real intelligence. I suppose it may be the same.’

Henry Savage’s lips tightened momentarily and Susannah was surprised to see he shot Arabella a glance that almost looked like
distaste.

‘And what other impressions have you of London?’ asked Susannah.

‘The constant noise and the ever-present black smoke; my face is covered in smuts all the time! The streets are so narrow
and dark after the wide-open and sunny space of Barbados. And the drains carry such a stench that I cannot get it out of my
nostrils.’

‘You will become used to it in time and hardly notice it, unless the weather is hot.’

‘I find it strange that such a fine city as this, with the most handsome buildings everywhere, allows the tanning and smoking
industries to found their businesses within the city to foul the air and make the inhabitants cough. But on the other hand,
there are so many ways to find amusement here. I like the hustle and bustle of a thousand people going about their business
and already I have made many new friends in the coffee houses.’

‘I should very much like to hear more about your home in Barbados,’ Susannah said.

‘The sun always shines and the plantation house has high ceilings and tall windows to welcome the breeze. The slaves have
their own accommodation and in the evenings after the day’s work is done you can hear them singing. It’s a haunting sound
and I miss it.’ His expression was wistful. ‘And, of course, there were the house slaves to tend to my every need. Here I
have to manage for myself.’

‘I wonder that you left this paradise behind and came to noisome, turbulent London, Mr Savage,’ Susannah said, thinking that
his eyes were as blue as a summer sky.

Mr Savage drank deeply and it was a moment before he replied. ‘My cousin will tell you that there is always a serpent in paradise.’

‘A serpent?’ Arabella’s eyes opened very wide. ‘How very exciting! As you know, my husband has a dried alligator in the shop
but I have never seen a serpent.’

‘I think my cousin is teasing you, just a little, Mistress Leyton,’ said Dr Ambrose. ‘He means that life is not always as
perfect as it seems. Indeed, I found that to be true during my sojourn on my uncle’s plantation.’

‘You have travelled there?’ Susannah asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

‘Some six years ago my uncle needed a doctor to tend his slaves. I stayed for a year.’

‘He must be a good master to take such care of his slaves.’

Dr Ambrose shrugged. ‘As my uncle said to me, they are a valuable commodity and it does not pay to allow them to sicken and
die.’

‘Enough talk of slaves,’ said Cornelius. ‘My wife shall entertain us on the virginals.’

They withdrew to the parlour where Arabella played for them.

It didn’t take a great deal of persuasion to encourage Mr Savage to accompany her. He had a fine tenor voice and Susannah
couldn’t take her eyes off him.

The following day, Ned poked his head into the dispensary, where Susannah was labelling pots of salve. ‘There’s a gentleman
to see you.’

She peeped through the curtain and saw Mr Savage talking to her father. She withdrew hastily, a strange fluttering in the
pit of her stomach. As she had predicted, the bruise around her eye was a glorious shade of purple and she didn’t want Mr
Savage to see her looking less than her best.

Cornelius called out. ‘Susannah! Mr Savage has called to see if you are recovered from your fall.’

It would have been ill-mannered to hide and all she could do was to brazen it out. She drew back the curtain. ‘How kind of
you, Mr Savage. As you can see, although quite well in myself, I have a black eye.’

He winced. ‘Poor lady! I have brought you these.’ He handed her a bouquet of pink roses. ‘Fresh from the country this morning!
I came to ask your father if you would like to accompany me on an excursion to Hyde Park. I have hired a coach, which was
no mean feat as there are few horses to be had in London any more.’

‘I hardly think I’m fit to be seen in public.’

He hesitated. ‘Please, do not disappoint me. It would be a change of scene to distract you from your pain and I should so
enjoy your company.’

‘As long as Arabella is free to chaperone you, a little jaunt would do you good, Susannah,’ said Cornelius. ‘You are far too
pale.’

Half an hour later they were bowling along in the hired coach. They left the leather blinds lowered and the breeze whipped
Susannah’s curls against her cheek.

‘This was a good idea of yours,’ she said to Henry Savage, whose own hair was also escaping from its confining ribbon and
blowing into attractive disarray. Her fingers curled over her palm as she resisted the impulse to brush a loose strand off
his cheek. She laughed as Arabella grabbed at her hat when a sudden gust threatened to snatch it away. ‘It has been so hot
and still of late that it’s marvellous to feel the wind on my face.’

‘Hot?’ laughed Mr Savage. ‘Until you have felt the weight of the Barbadian sun on your skin you cannot know how hot the sun
can be.’

‘And until you have experienced an English winter you cannot imagine how cold that can be,’ said Susannah. ‘Sometimes the
Thames freezes over and we skate on it.’

‘Perhaps I shall see the frozen Thames this winter. I can tell you, I wished the sea had been frozen over when I came to England;
then I could have walked here instead of rolling backwards and forwards in my bunk.’

‘Was the journey very bad?’ asked Arabella.

‘Torture! I was confined to my cabin for several weeks in the certain knowledge that I would die.’

‘But you arrived safely in the end,’ Susannah said.

‘By God’s will! But after twelve weeks at sea I thought the ground was still rocking under my feet once we docked in London.’

‘Then you will not be in a hurry to return to Barbados?’ said Arabella.

Mr Savage looked out of the window. When he turned to face them again Susannah could have sworn he had tears in his eyes,
but perhaps it was just the wind. ‘I shall never return,’ he said. ‘London is now my home.’

‘In that case,’ said Arabella, ‘you’ll be wanting a wife.’

Blushing at her forthright comment, it was Susannah’s turn to look out of the window.

Chapter 4

Susannah calculated that Martha’s baby would come very soon and she was overcome with remorse. It had been two months since
she and her friend had parted with the air as cool as frost between them. Supposing all did not go well with her? She would
never forgive herself if Martha didn’t survive the birth and they had not made their peace. She would go this very day to
visit her friend.

She spent the morning baking biscuits and then put them in her basket with a bottle of Leyton’s Cordial for Martha’s children.
As an afterthought she went into the yard and picked a handful of thyme from the pot by the door, dusted off the soot and
tied it up in a thread. She wished that she could make a proper herb garden but nothing thrived in the sour earth of the yard.
Returning to the kitchen she found Harriet rooting through her basket.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Nothing!’ Harriet stared at her defiantly.

‘You’ve been eating my biscuits!’

‘Haven’t!’

‘Don’t lie to me, Harriet! There are crumbs all around your mouth.’ Susannah was beginning to dislike the child for her mean
and petty ways.

Harriet stuck out her tongue and flounced out of the kitchen.

BOOK: The Apothecary's Daughter
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