The Apothecary's Daughter (9 page)

In silence, she and Charlie turned and watched the lantern light
until it disappeared.

Suddenly Charlie reached over and grasped her hand -a rare
gesture. “Stay.”

Tears filled Lilly’s eyes. “You are not making this easy.” She
squeezed his hand. “Do not be sad, Charlie. It won’t be forever. I
will come back and see you.”

He stared off in the distance once more. ” ‘At’s what she said.”

Lilly’s pulse quickened. “What?”

Charlie kept staring, but did not reply.

“Do you mean Mother? She told you she was leaving?”

“No more leaving,” he whispered.

“What else did she tell you? Do you remember?”

“Don’t leave, Lilly.”

Lilly was torn, wishing she might extract every fragment of her
brother’s memory, yet not wanting to further upset him.

She drew herself up. “Come, Charlie. Father will be wanting his
supper.

She returned home to find the laboratory-kitchen in more disorder
than usual.

“Father, you left the large alembic on the stove again! ” she called.
“Please help me move it if you want any supper tonight.”

Charles Haswell wandered in from his surgery, hands full of
rumpled letters and bills of lading. “Sorry, sorry. Lilly, where is that
order for Shipton’s?”

“I put it on your desk two days ago.” Lilly brought the soup pot
from the cold cellar.

“Did you? I cannot find the dumble thing.”

“Perhaps if you put things away instead of stacking them all over
your desk.”

“But I have looked everywhere.”

“Father. I do not wish to spend two more hours writing it again.”

“Then would you please find it for me?”

“Yes, yes. After I heat our soup. Can you find the ladle?”

He began clanging around, removing the alembic and pulling out
pots and kettles from the cupboard. “I cannot find a thing in here!
Heaven help us after you leave.”

Lilly sighed. “Not you, too, Father. I have argued with three of
the people I care about most today. I cannot stand to disappoint you
as well. If you want me to stay, just say so.”

“Stay? Stay here and clean after me and sort my mess because I
am a disorganized fool? Absolutely not. Go.”

“You truly want me to go?”

“Well, I don’t want you to stay and become like your mother.”

Lilly gasped. “Father!”

He paused in his search to look at her earnestly. “What I mean
is -I do not want you to stay here and always wonder, always long for
what you might have missed. Find out now, before …”

“Before?” she asked.

He sighed. “Before there is a husband and children to leave
behind.”

“Oh, Father.” Tears filled her eyes for the second time that evening.
She squeezed his arm, and the two shared a rare moment of silent
empathy. Then he cleared his throat and resumed his search.

Lilly moved to the cupboard and pulled out a quarter loaf of stout
brown bread. She forced a light tone. “Charlie told me that Mother spoke to him before she left. Said she would come back, that she would
not be gone forever. Do you think it possible?”

“That she planned only a short absence?” He shook his head. “I
do not know. She was here one day and gone the next. Told me nothing.
Perhaps she lied to Charlie to ease her conscience. Or Charlie might
have remembered incorrectly or imagined the exchange. I doubt we
shall ever know.”

Finding a clean wooden paddle, Lilly used it to stir the soup, but
her mind was far away. “I think perhaps she did lie, only meaning to
comfort him. For I told Charlie I wouldn’t be gone forever, and that
was a lie as well. Was it not? For I really do not know that. If I return
soon, it will only be because I am an utter failure. Unable to learn what
the tutors try to teach me, an embarrassment to the Elliotts.”

“Which of course you will not be.”

“I pray not, but what if the opposite is true. If I succeed, even modestly, will I not stay two years or more? She mentioned two seasons.”

“And if you have the ultimate success …” He let the thought
trail off.

“What do you mean?”

“Why, to find a suitable husband, of course.”

Lilly felt a thrill of anticipation at his words. “I had not thought
of that as my principle aim, but I suppose you are right.”

“In your aunt’s eyes, what else could it be? If you are a success that
means you will be sought after by several eligible men and married
to the richest or best connected among them. And assuming he is a
London man, you might very well live there forever.”

Still blindly stirring, Lilly bit back a smile. Her daydreams of
a handsome gentleman falling in love with her no longer seemed so
foolishly fantastic.

“Which is a sad prospect for your old father, but that is life, and
we cannot stop it. Thankfully there are decent roads between here and
London, and there is always the canal.” He pulled out the ladle from the
cupboard with triumphant flourish. “Now, when are you to depart? “

The apothecary of this country is qualified by
education to attend at the bedside of the sick, and,
being in general better acquainted with pharmacy
than the physicians of English universities …
is often the most successful practitioner.

JEREMIAH JENKINS, OBSERVATIONS ON THE PRESENT STATE OF
THE PROFESSION AND TRADE OF MEDICINE, 1810

For seeing that our frail mortal bodies are subject
to a vast multitude of diseases,
it hath most graciously pleased almighty God,
of his infinite mercy, goodness, and compassion to sinful man,
to plant remedies in our gardens, before our doors, and even on
every side of our paths, in order that we might
put forth our hands, and duly receive the healing balm….

-CULPEPER’S COMPLETE HERBAL @ ENGLISH PHYSICIAN

She was certainly not a woman of family, but well educated,
accomplished, rich, and excessively in love….

JANE AUSTEN, PERSUASION

n the room that had been hers for more than a year, Lillian Grace
-Haswell stared at herself in the dressing table mirror. Her aunt’s
lady’s maid placed the last ornament in her elegant crown of russet
hair, copper highlights gleaming in the candlelight.

“There you are, miss.”

“Thank you, Dupree.”

Rising, Lilly smoothed the bodice of her jonquille gown where
it skimmed over her slight figure and flowed to the floor. The maid
handed her long white gloves and helped arrange a light mantle over
her shoulders. A heavy cloak would not be needed on such a fine
early-May evening.

As she carefully descended the stairway of the Elliott home, her
aunt and uncle watched from the hall with evident delight.

“My dear Lillian, how lovely you look!” Aunt Elliott cooed.

“Very handsome indeed,” Uncle Elliott added, his hands grasping
lapels which did not quite cover his girth.

Aunt Elliott smiled at her husband. “Is she not a vision of
perfection?”

“A vision to be sure. But not quite perfect, dear lady.”

Her aunt tilted her head to one side. “Oh?”

“Something is missing.”

Lillian paused on the landing, looking down at herself. She considered the gloves, the reticule, the slippers peeking from under her
skirts. What had she forgotten?

“I know just the thing.” Jonathan Elliott turned to the hall table
behind him and a moment later walked purposefully toward Lilly.

He stood before her and brandished a brown velvet case. “Now,
mind your expectations, my dear. It is not the `latest thing,’ as they
say. I am afraid it is rather old.”

The Elliotts shared a smile that revealed her aunt’s awareness of
her husband’s intent.

He opened the hinged lid of the jewel case and displayed its
contents.

“How lovely! ” Lilly’s exclamation was sincere. For within the silk
lining was a stunning saffron-yellow pendant on a gold chain with a
matching topaz bracelet.

“These belonged to Lillian Elliott,” her uncle said. “Your grandmother.”

Her heart squeezed at this show of affection. “They are beautiful.
I wish I had known her.”

“I have no doubt she would have been very fond of you.”

Her aunt stepped behind her and fastened the necklace while Lilly
slipped on the bracelet.

“I shall take great care and return them safely.”

“They are yours now, my dear. Although it would be wise to
lock them in the jewelry chest when not in use. One can never be
too careful.”

“I am happy enough to be borrow them, Aunt you needn’t give
them to me.”

“Nonsense. We have had every intention of giving them to you
for some time. Why do you think I counseled you to select a gown
of this color?”

“They are perfect together. Thank you, Aunt. You are very kind.”
She kissed Ruth Elliott’s soft cheek. “And you too, Uncle.” The big
man leaned down to receive her kiss.

“There, there. You are most welcome, my dear. Now, shall we
be off?”

The Price-Winters family was hosting the ball, and Lilly had long
been looking forward to it, for she had become acquainted with both
son and daughter during the previous season.

“Mr. and Mrs. Price-Winters, good evening,” Jonathan Elliott
began. “You remember our niece, Miss Haswell.”

“Of course. She and our Christina often enjoy one another’s
society.”

Lilly noticed Mrs. Price-Winters had not included their son,
William, in her mention of society. Aunt Elliott had tried to match
her with Christina’s brother last season and was disappointed when
he married another. Still, Lilly curtsied and smiled at the parents of
her friend. The sole friend she could claim after sixteen months in
London.

She followed alongside her aunt and uncle, past their hosts and
around the perimeter of the crowded ballroom. Lilly smiled and curtsied her way through a long series of introductions, her eyes straying
around the room in hopes of seeing Roger Bromley, a current admirer
whom her aunt highly favored.

A silver-haired gentleman in uniform bowed before her. “Miss
Haswell. You probably do not remember me, but-“