Plaid to the Bone by Mia Marlowe

Author:Mia Marlowe
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical romance, Fiction
ISBN: 9781420131956
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2013-08-26T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

“In all my studies of the arcane, I’ve come to believe the lore of the herbalist speaks most clearly to the human condition. As with the heart of man, there is a duality in nearly every beneficial plant, a light and dark side, as it were. For in every cure that restores health, there is a bit of poison.”

From the journal of Callum Farquhar,

cynic, suspicious of alchemy, but possessed of

just enough garden knowledge to get myself

into trouble.

Cait rose early. It was easy since she’d hardly been to bed. She bypassed the main hall, where most of the castle’s residents were breaking their fast and made her way to the walled garden off the kitchen.

Cook didn’t question her interest in the small plot. As chatelaine, Cait would be expected to doctor the ills and hurts of the castle folk. She was required to have a working knowledge of healing herbs and such. Nothing was more natural than the new lady of Bonniebroch apprising herself of the plants available to her.

There were neat rows of rosemary, thyme, and fragrant lavender. Basil and chamomile, licorice root and mint grew in profusion in the sheltered garden. Everything was disquietingly wholesome. She’d almost given up hope of finding something she could use until she spied the purplish-blue flowers in a shaded corner.

Wolf’s bane.

Cait knelt and pulled the small knife from the busk of her bodice to cut a few stems.

“Careful, milady,” came a voice from behind her.

Cait rose quickly—guiltily, she feared—and discovered the small man she’d saved from the pillory behind her. He stood in the doorway to the garden, fingering his damaged ear. “Oh, it’s ye, Mr. Farquhar. Ye gave me a start.”

“Ye remembered my name. Aren’t ye kind?” A smile broke over his thin face; then his gaze darted back to the plants in the corner. “Ye’ll want to be wearing gloves before ye cut wolf’s bane.”

“’Tis only poison if it’s consumed.”

He arched a wiry brow. “Aye, that’s true. But if ye’ve so much as a small cut on your hands, ye might take in enough of the malevolent properties of the plant through your skin to poison yerself by accident.”

Her father had neglected to warn her of that.

“If ye dinna mind me asking, what might ye be needing it for?” he said with a small dip of his head.

She was grateful she had a story ready, but the lie still came haltingly to her lips. “My maid Grizel. She suffers at times . . . from the rheumatism, ye see. I’ve heard a poultice made with wolf ’s bane applied at the point of pain can be a great help.”

A small amount taken in a hot drink could also drop a grown man in a few seconds, but she wasn’t about to let Farquhar know she was aware of that use for the herb.

He nodded. “It may indeed help your maid. It may also help ye into the next world if ye’re no’ careful how ye prepare aconitum.”

“Aconitum?”

“Ah, that’s the educated name for wolf ’s bane.

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