She patted the hay beside her. “I know what it is to watch my child fall from my body at the hands of a man. And while my story is terrible, every woman has faced a man’s wickedness to some degree. Even you.” She placed a hand on the floor, steadying herself as she began to tilt to one side. “I am an apothecary, and it is my duty to dispense remedies to women. And so over the years they have come to me, and I have sold them what they wish. I have protected their secrets. I have borne the brunt of their burdens. Perhaps if I had bled again after the loss, if my womb were not scarred, I would have stopped long ago. But the absence of bleeding has been a constant reminder of Frederick’s betrayal and what he took from me.”

In the darkness, my brow furrowed into confusion. The absence of bleeding? I presumed she misspoke on account of her fatigue.

Slowly, Nella fell onto her side, yawning and weak. I knew that her story was nearly over, but although she appeared exhausted, I was wide-awake.

“It cannot go on forever, of course,” she whispered. “I am failing. And whereas I thought, long ago, that issuing such pain may ease my own, I was wrong. It has only grown worse, and my bones swell and ache with the passing of each week. I am sure that dispensing these poisons is destroying me from the inside, but how can I tear down what I have built? You heard Lady Clarence... My distinction is well-known.”

She cleared her throat, licked her lips. “It is a strange puzzle,” she concluded. “For as much as I have worked to fix women’s maladies, I cannot fix my own. My grief has never gone away, not in twenty years.” Speaking so quietly that I could hardly hear her, I wondered if she had not slipped into a sort of peaceful nightmare. “For this kind of pain, no such tincture exists.”

16

Caroline

Present day, Tuesday

When I stepped into the lobby of La Grande, dread hardened in my chest. Though I’d mulled over the apothecary for most of the train ride to the hotel, now the more urgent concern—my husband’s imminent arrival—pushed aside any thoughts of Bear Alley, the vial or the library documents.

Given the time needed to clear customs and catch a taxi, it seemed mathematically impossible for James to already be at the hotel. In spite of this, I hesitated in front of my room door, wondering if I should knock. Just in case.

No. This was my room, my trip. He was the interloper. I slid my keycard into the door and went inside.