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Back The Lost Apothecary
Chapters (46)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. Map
  6. Ancient Apothecary’s Oath
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. Nella Clavinger’s Apothecary of Poisons
  44. Historical Note
  45. Recipes
  46. Acknowledgments

I had no interest in her hot brews and I had a mind to tell her as such, but I reminded myself that Eliza hadn’t read the news article that left me with such taut nerves. Now, more than ever, I needed to remain diligent and discreet—and it would be prudent to resume tidying the shop once and for all. Though I had no aim to return, I could not bear to leave it disheveled.

“Listen very closely to me, girl.” I set down the market bag, empty except for the newspaper. “You must leave. Right now, without a moment to waste.”

Her hand fell into a pile of crushed leaves on the table. Defeated and heartbroken, she seemed in that moment more a child than I’d ever known her to be. She glanced at the cupboard where the canister stood, the one that Lady Clarence had returned to us. How confused Eliza must have been by my forcefulness and the sudden necessity to make haste.

Still, I would not tell her my reasoning—I would not tell her what I knew. I meant, even then, to protect her.

I tilted my head, pitying the both of us. I wished I could send her to Lady Clarence’s, but knowing that the authorities were there, asking questions, it was much too close for my comfort. “Please go back to the Amwell house, child. I know you fear it so, but you must go. It will be safe, I promise.”

Surrounded by crushed leaves and colorful spills, Eliza gazed over the jars and bottles in front of her as she considered my request. At last, she nodded and said, “I will go.” Then she wrapped her fingers around something I could not see and stuffed it into her dress. I did not care enough to question her about it; let the child take what she wants. Greater concerns awaited me.

After all, our very lives were at stake.

24

Caroline

Present day, Wednesday

At the back of the coffee shop, Gaynor and I leaned close together, the two articles about the apothecary spread on the table in front of us. They’d been published in a paper called The Thursday Bulletin, which, Gaynor explained, was not a widely circulated periodical and ran only between 1778 and 1792. According to her brief research that morning, the paper eventually shut down due to lack of funding, and the library’s archive carried only a fraction of the published issues, none of which had been digitized.

“Then how did you find these?” I asked her, taking a sip from my coffee.