The Apothecary's Daughter (45 page)

“Of course not.” She sighed deeply. “He all but accused us of
purposefully harming Mrs. Kilgrove. Charlie would never intentionally hurt a soul. And she, always so sharp with everybody else, dotes
on Charlie.”

She shook her head, over and over again. Clearly the reality of
what they were facing had begun to sink in. “He is so innocent, so childlike. If they were to arrest him, to take him to … prison, or an
institution … I could not bear it. He could not bear it.”

Tears cascaded down her cheeks, and he felt powerless to comfort
her. He recalled how Francis Baylor had so naturally taken her hand.
Why could he not do the same?

She pressed a handkerchief against the corner of one eye, then the
other. “I must protect him. I love him more than my own life. Please,
Dr. Graves. Please, help him.”

Dread gripped him. “I will try, Miss Haswell, but what can I do?
You must know Foster will report this to the constable.”

“That man! Everyone knows Bill Ackers will do the bidding of
whoever puts a pound in his pocket.”

“But will he not bring the case to the local magistrates to make
any official ruling of wrongdoing? “

“But it was a mistake! An accident!”

“Neither of which are allowed in this profession,” he said, as gently
as he could. “You must know that.”

She hung her head. “Tell them it was my fault, then. Charlie was
only acting under my authority.”

He sighed. “Miss Haswell, I hate to be blunt, but you have no
authority. Do you not realize what could happen if you are found
guilty of poisoning someone?”

“Poisoning … ? What a nightmare this is! But … may she not
yet live? Oh, God, that she might live. For all our sakes.”

He paced behind the settee. “I do not know. She may yet pull
through, but you should not rely on it.”

She hid her face in her hands. Finally, he reached over and touched
tentative fingers to her shoulder.

“I can bear the punishment, whatever it is,” she said. “But Charlie
must be spared.”

Foolish girl! He strode around the settee to stand before her.
“You don’t know what you are saying. Women have been transported
or imprisoned for less. And should your part reach the ears of the
Worshipful Society of Apothecaries, they would be well within their
rights to tear apart your father’s shop, burn everything, and put him out of business for good. The Haswell’s you have been trying to save
could very well be ruined forever.”

“But Charlie is more important than the shop. Father would not
disagree.”

He stared at her. “You have not told him?”

“Not yet. I fear what it will do to him.”

He knelt before her to look into her eyes and gripped her hand.
This was not the topic he had imagined discussing from this position.
“Tell him, Lillian. You cannot bear this on your own. I will do all I
can to help, but I fear it is not a great deal.”

Lilly was sitting in a chair beside Mrs. Kilgrove’s bed when the
woman’s eyes fluttered opened at last.

“Mrs. Kilgrove? ” Lilly reached out and grasped her spidery hand.
The old woman turned watery eyes in her direction.

“Rosamond?” she whispered hoarsely. “I knew you’d return.” Her
head lolled to the side, and Lilly had to rise and lean over the bed to
hear her murmur, “You did the first time, after all.”

Lilly’s heart hammered. “What do you mean, Mrs. Kilgrove?”

But the old woman did not answer, merely squinted toward the
bedside table. “Why do the candles wear blue halos?” Her eyes closed
and she said no more.

Mrs. Kilgrove was seeing things, Lilly realized. Had even
mistaken her for her mother. No doubt what she had said about
Rosamond’s return had been wild imaginings as well.

Despite the poor woman’s hallucinations, a tentative, fluttering
hope filled Lilly’s breast. She tamped it down, lest it fly away at any
moment. Fearing the old woman might yet take a turn for the worse, she
waited and prayed. Her father came, brought by Charlie’s racked confession. There was nothing he could do, but it was still a relief to hear
him confirm everything that could be done for Mrs. Kilgrove had been done. Later, the vicar came to pass an hour with her at Francis’s behest,
offering words of comfort and prayer in his mellifluous voice.

That evening, Mrs. Kilgrove again opened her eyes. She turned to
Lilly with a weak smile. “How nice to wake with someone beside me.
Haven’t known that comfort since my John died a day back agone.”

“I am glad to be here,” Lilly said. “Do you know me?”

Mrs. Kilgrove frowned. “Foolish girl,” she whispered. “Have I
not known you since an infant?”

“Yes, but you’ve been unconscious.” She did not add delirious.
“How do you feel now? “

“Queer. My head aches.” She slowly moved her gaze across the
room. “And everything seems rather … yellow.”

“Mrs. Kilgrove, do you remember the pills you took the ones
I sent over?”

She squinted in attempted concentration. “I don’t … to help me
sleep?”

“Just so, and to calm your stomach. I am afraid there might have
been one or two wrong pills in the lot. Do you remember taking any
silver pills?”

She winced. “Lass, I am near eighty years old. I am happy to
remember my name, much less the color of a pill I took … when was
it.

“Three nights gone.”

“Three nights? Some pills …” Her eyes drifted closed once
more.

The next morning when Mrs. Kilgrove awoke, Lilly and Charlie
were both with her. Charlie sat in a bedside chair, the woman’s cat on
his lap. When he saw her eyes open, his voice shook. “I am dreadful
sorry, Mrs. K.” Tears filled his wide blue eyes.

Mrs. Kilgrove turned her head toward him and reached out a
shaky hand. “No need. I don’t blame you, Charlie. You may be small
in the attic, but you have a big heart.”

Charlie bit his pronounced lip and ducked his head.

“Mrs. Kilgrove, will you take some water? “

The woman turned sharp eyes in her direction. “Why is there
no tea?”

Biting back a smile, Lilly rose to prepare some. While she was at it,
she set a pan of broth to warming on the stove, broth Mrs. Mimpurse
had kindly sent over, firmly believing the invalid would regain consciousness as well as appetite. Lilly certainly hoped she was right.

Francis Baylor was on his way to visit Mrs. Kilgrove and, if he
were honest with himself, to see Lilly, who stayed so loyally by the
woman’s side. He knew he was a fool. Graves, a good-looking, Oxfordeducated physician, was courting her, was he not? Francis sighed. Still,
he would do anything to help her.

From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Dr. Foster disappearing
into Ackers Stables and Smithy, the establishment of Bill Ackers, the
county-appointed constable of the neighbor villages.

His stomach seized at the thought of what trouble Ackers could
bring down on the Haswells, and he knew the man was more than
capable of doing so with relish. Francis changed course and crossed
the road, stepping surreptitiously near the open stable door.

“Will you fail in your duty, Ackers?” He heard Foster say, voice
sharp. “There has been a crime, man. A devilish crime.”

Francis blew out a puff of air. Worse than I feared.

“You’d like’at, would’n ye?” Bill Ackers spoke in a voice passed
down from generations of family members who’d never ventured
beyond Wiltshire. “Haswell’s dippin’ in yer pockets, innum?”

“No. He is nothing to me.”

“Now, long as the woman lives, there’s been no murder, mind.
And no one’s gawpus enough to believe ‘at young dummel meant to
harm the old ghel.”

“It is a fine thing when a body can poison an innocent person in
your village, Ackers.”

“Now, Foster. Let’s not jarl. You know I’ll be watchin’. And when
summateruther happens, I’ll see to it, I will.”

“I am very glad to hear it.”

There was a pause. Thinking the conversation at an end, Francis
was about to move away when Dr. Foster spoke again.

“Perhaps, Mr. Ackers, we might discuss this further at the Hare
and Hounds? I for one grow thirsty standing here.”

“If yer buying, I’ll go along,” Bill Ackers said. “Always were a
fair-minded man.”

A robin red breast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.

WILLIAM BLAKE, AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE

A s Charlie was finishing his breakfast of eggs and sausages the next
-morning, Lilly slipped briefly from the kitchen, then returned
with arms full. “I have something for you, Charlie.”

Still chewing, Charlie’s gaze tracked her progress across the room.
At her mother’s old place at the table, Lilly set down a bandbox with
bored-out air holes. Anticipation prickled within her as she watched
her brother’s face. Though his memory was poor, she thought she saw
a glint of recognition in his blue eyes.

He swallowed his bite and said, “I had somefing very like it
once.

“Indeed you did. I am pleased you remember.”

A flick of white batted against one of the holes and disappeared.

Charlie’s eyes grew wide. “Am Ito have a puss?”

With effort, she kept her voice calm. “Open it and see.”

Still he hesitated.

“Go on.”

Charlie carefully removed the lid. A young cat, older than a kitten
but not fully grown, lifted his grey head and put two white paws on
the edge of the box. He sniffed the air, and when Charlie offered him
his fingers, sniffed those too.

“Hallo, boy.” Charlie looked up at her anxiously. “He is a boy,
innum? “

“I am no expert on such, mmm, identification, but Mr. Fowler
assures me this is indeed a male.”

“Good. ‘Twould be a queer fing to call a girl-cat jolly.”

Her heart warmed and ached at once. “Is that what you will call
him?”

He nodded. “Does he look like the first jolly, Lilly? I can’t remember.”

“Well, I do remember, and he looks a great deal like your old Jolly.
I daresay this lad is his grandson or grandnephew.”