The Apothecary's Curse by Barbara Barnett

Author:Barbara Barnett
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781633882348
Publisher: Prometheus Books
Published: 2016-09-15T16:00:00+00:00

LONDON, 1842

CHAPTER 30

Gaelan’s mind whirled as he and Bell entered the drawing room through the garden doors. Could it be true, then, that Bell had become like him? He’d not used the same combination of ingredients at all in the elixir, yet somehow . . .

“We must, then Mr. Erceldoune, locate your book forthwith. Whatever it takes shall be at your disposal. And should it—”

“Simon!”

“Eleanor, darling!”

The young woman fled into Bell’s arms, her full skirt and petticoats swishing loudly as she swept across the carpet. Gaelan considered the scene, wondering who she might be. A new wife, perhaps? With her hair piled high beneath a feathered bonnet and fine gown, she was a striking woman, if not conventionally pretty. And Gaelan could not tear his gaze from her.

“Mr. Erceldoune,” said Bell, settling Eleanor at his side. “Might I present my sister, Lady . . . ? That is, Eleanor.”

Gaelan backed toward the doors. Might this be the sister married to Braithwaite? Dear God, what was she doing here? Could Braithwaite himself be not far behind?

“Eleanor, darling, will you please excuse us a moment?” Bell pulled Gaelan aside and whispered in his ear. “Calm yourself, Mr. Erceldoune. She is innocent of Braithwaite’s proclivities, I assure you. She dislikes him, as I told you. I doubt he is with her.”

Gaelan was unconvinced, quickening his pace toward the garden doors.

“Please, at least stay a moment and make her acquaintance. I promise I shall not reveal you.”

Gaelan nodded, not at all reassured. Yet he would not be rude, however monstrous her husband.

Eleanor drew near and extended her hand. “Mr. Erceldoune.” She gazed at him, her scrutiny flushing his face hot with its intensity. She knew . . . something.

“Lady . . . Braithwaite.” He could barely spit out the name past his revulsion of it. Gaelan bowed slightly from the waist, taking her proffered hand, the tremble in his own impossible to still. He noticed a profound sadness in her eyes as he straightened again. But something else too. Terror? He dismissed the notion. Braithwaite was his tormentor, not hers.

“To what do we owe this surprise visit, my dear, and why did you not send word you were coming? I would have made preparations. Is . . . Lord Braithwaite with you?” Bell asked a bit too breezily.

She shook her head tightly, eyes closed; when she opened them, tears had gathered in her eyelashes.

Bell looped his arm about her back, and her head fell to his chest. “My darling, what is it? You must tell me.”

“I would really rather not talk about it. In fact, I would beg you to tell no one that I am here, most especially Richar . . . my husband.” She stepped back, her expression beseeching. “I would ask the same of you, Mr. Erceldoune.” Tears spilled in delicate tendrils down her nose, already streaked and red.

“Perhaps,” Gaelan said, excusing himself, “I’d best take my leave so you may talk in private. Dr. Bell, we shall talk again later.”

Eleanor held up a hand.

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