The Anatomist's Apprentice by Tessa Harris

Author:Tessa Harris
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2011-11-15T22:00:00+00:00

Back at Boughton Hall, young Will Lovelock had been tasked to go about his daily chores as if all were normal. His parents had stayed the night in a boardinghouse in Oxford, at Captain Farrell’s expense, but had ordered their son to fulfill his duties the same as ever he did, as well as doing some of his mother’s.

At first light he had risen and filled a whisket with kindling for the fires. Mistress Firebrace, the housekeeper, had told him to first lay one in the kitchen, then in the drawing room, even though the house was empty. Naturally he did not question her orders, but went about his business, first laying the kindling, then setting on the larger logs before lighting the taper and watching the flames take hold in the grates.

When he was certain no one would enter the room for a while, he sat back on his haunches as the warmth from the fire grew, holding out his scabby hands. Some of the sore places were still raw and moist but his mother’s fragrant unguent had soothed the itching so that he did not scratch as much now. In the heat of the summer, or at night under the coverlet, the itching would be at its worst, like so many ants gnawing away at his broken flesh. Sometimes he had cried out in pain and when the patches of scaly skin spread to the backs of his knees, he thought he would scream with the fire of them. There were times when he felt the torments of demons as they prodded him and burned his skin. And when his mother tried to hold him to comfort him, he would push her away, not because he did not want her tenderness but because he could not bear her touch.

Will’s suffering continued for many weeks until one day, it was early spring as he recalled, he and his mother and Rebecca were on the road to Brandwick to buy thread. The first shoots were appearing fresh and green and the scent of lily-of-the-valley hung sweet in the air. It was then that they met her—an old didicoy, making her way out of the village. Her skin was nut brown and as lined as a hornbeam and when she spoke Will could see no teeth in her head. His mother had told them about Gypsy folk; how if they were to see one on the road, they should run away as fast as they could. But instead of ignoring the old crone, Hannah returned her greeting and stopped to talk. Will was all for ignoring her, but Rebecca chastised him and said the old woman would only put a curse on him if he should bolt. He was still too afraid to listen to their conversation, however, and stayed a few paces away, so that he could run if the old witch suddenly began ranting. Neither his mother, nor Rebecca, seemed in the least bit concerned. The Gypsy showed them

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