The Lost Apothecary(59)
With my finger, I traced each sentence and continued to run through the list of spells within Tom’s book.
Oil of Transparency, vis-à-vis Playing Cards
Effervescence for Extended Spring Crop
Tincture to Reverse Bad Fortune
Amid the clamor of Nella hammering a nail into a wooden crate, my eyes widened. Tincture to Reverse Bad Fortune. Well, I could be sure that no good fortune had found me whatsoever in recent days. My hand began to shake, the flame of the candle with it, as I read the spell, which claimed to be more powerful than “any weapon, any court, any King.” I studied the required ingredients—venom and rosewater, crushed feather and fern root, among others—and I swallowed hard, growing feverish. They were strange things, yes, but Nella’s shop was full of strange things. And I already knew that two of them, the rosewater and fern root, were on her shelves.
But what about the others? There was no way to move about the shop unnoticed; how could I collect the ingredients I needed, much less prepare them as indicated in the book? I would need to reveal my plans to Nella, for there was no other way—
At once, there came another striking noise. I had believed it a moment ago to be Nella’s hammer, but now I saw she had set the hammer down. As understanding came over me, I nearly dropped my candle; someone was at the door.
Nella, toiling by the hearth, looked to the door, her manner calm. She gave no sense of fear, showed no nerves. Did she wish it to be the authorities? Perhaps an end to all of this would be a welcome relief. Meanwhile, I remained frozen in terror. If a constable had come to arrest Nella, what would become of me? Would Nella reveal what I had done to Mr. Amwell? I would never see my mother or my mistress again, never get the chance to tell Tom Pepper of the spell I meant to try...
Or what if the newcomer was something even worse? The thought of Mr. Amwell’s hollow eyes and the idea of his milky, hazy ghost seized me, clutched my very heart. Perhaps he grew tired of waiting and had returned for me at last. “Nella, wait—” I cried.
She ignored me. With no hesitation in her step, Nella approached the door and opened it. I tensed, setting Tom Pepper’s magick book aside, and leaned forward to better see around the door. There was only one person in the shadows. I sighed in relief, for surely a constable would not arrive without his partner.
The visitor, covered in loose black fabric, wore a hood over their face. Their shoes were caked in mud—the stench hit me instantly, horse urine and turned-over earth—and from where I sat across the room, the guest appeared little more than a shrouded, trembling shadow.
A pair of black-gloved hands extended forward. Held between them was a jar: the jar I had filled only yesterday with the deadly beetle powder. It took me a moment to fully comprehend what was happening before me. The jar! Nella’s death sentence was no more!
The visitor unwrapped the black fabric around their face, and I gasped in recognition. It was Lady Clarence. Oh, I had never been so relieved to see anyone in all my life.
Nella reached a hand to the wall to steady herself. “You have the jar,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “Oh, how I feared this would not be the case...” She leaned forward, her other hand on her chest, and I worried she might fall to her knees. I stood at once and moved toward her.
“I came as quickly as I could,” Lady Clarence told us. A hairpin hung loose against her neck, ready to dislodge at any moment. “You must understand the flurry of activity at the estate. I have never seen so many people in one place. It’s as if another dinner party is imminent, though a more somber one at that. And the questions they continue to ask! The attorneys, worst of all. The activity was too much for my lady’s maid—she left me. This morning, before dawn rose, off she went without a word. Told only the coachman that she had resigned and planned to leave the city. I suppose I cannot blame her, given recent events. She did play a part in the whole thing, putting the powder into Miss Berkwell’s glass. Though she has left me greatly inconvenienced.”
“Heavens,” Nella said, but in her voice I heard apathy; she did not care a whit about Lady Clarence’s lady’s maid or lack thereof. She reached for the jar, spun it round in her hands and let out a sigh. “This is the one, yes. This is the exact one. Oh, how you’ve saved me from ruin, Lady Clarence...”
“Yes, yes, well, I told you I would dispose of it, and returning it to you here has been quite a chore, but your look this afternoon gave me such a fright. All is well now, I trust, and I see little reason to stay even a second longer than necessary, as it is growing late and I’ve not had a moment for a proper cry.”
Nella offered her tea before she took leave, but Lady Clarence declined.
“One more thing,” she said, briefly glancing at me and then trailing her eyes across the tiny room, void of the luxuries with which she must have been well accustomed. “I am not entirely sure what arrangement you’ve given the girl, but in the event you’d consider it, please do keep in mind that I’m now seeking a new housemaid.” She motioned to me like I was a piece of furniture. “She’s younger than I’d prefer, but not unreasonably so, and she’s obedient enough, the type to keep her mouth closed, yes? I’d like to fill the vacancy by the end of the week. Please do let me know as soon as possible. As I said, I’m on Carter Lane.”
Nella stammered over her reply. “Th-thank you for letting me know,” she said. “Eliza and I will discuss this. Such a change may be a welcome idea.”