But like an elixir splashed onto the very flame of my grief, a young, dark-haired man named Frederick entered my life. At the time, I’d thought the chance encounter a blessing; his presence began to cool and soften so much that had gone awry. He was a meat merchant, making quick work of the mess I’d accumulated since my mother’s death: debts I had not paid, dyes I had not inventoried, dues I had not collected. And even after the shop’s figures had been fixed, Frederick remained. He did not want to be apart from me, nor me from him.

Whereas I’d once thought myself skilled in only the intricacies of my apothecary shop, I soon realized my expertise in other techniques, the release between two bodies, a remedy that couldn’t be found in the vials lining my walls. In the weeks to follow, we fell terribly, wonderfully in love. My sea of grief grew shallower; I could breathe again, and I could envision the future—a future with Frederick.

I couldn’t have known that mere months after falling in love with him, I would dispense a fatal dose of rat poison to kill him.

The first betrayal. The first victim. The beginning of a stained legacy.

“The shop must not have been very amusing back then,” Eliza said, turning her head away as though disappointed. “No poisons, and no hidden room? Humph. Anyone should like a secret room.”

Though her innocence was enviable, she was too young to understand the curse of a once-loved place—hidden room or not—that had been marred by loss. “It is not about amusement, Eliza. It is about concealment. That is what it means to disguise something. Anyone can buy poison, but you cannot simply drop a pellet of it into one’s scrambled eggs, because the officials may find residue or the box of poison in the trash. No, it must be so cleverly disguised that it is untraceable. The poison is disguised in that egg just as my shop is disguised within the bowels of an old storage room. That way, anyone not meant to be here will undoubtedly turn around and leave. The storage room at the front is a measure of protection for me, you might say.”

Eliza nodded, her bun bobbing at the base of her neck. She would soon be a beautiful young woman, more handsome than most, with her long eyelashes and the sharp angles of her face. She hugged the dish of eggs to her chest. “I suppose this is all I need, then.” She pulled several coins from her pocket and set them on the table. I counted them quickly: four shillings, sixpence.

She stood, then touched her lips with her fingertips. “But how shall I transport them? I fear they may break inside the pocket of my gown.”