The Apothecary's Daughter

by Betts, Charlotte

  ‘Bad dreams again.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d better keep off the cheese at supper?’

  Phoebe gave her a long, hard-eyed stare and turned back to the polishing.

  Susannah glanced back over her shoulder as she left and could have sworn she saw a smile on the other woman’s lips.

  Agnes woke up in a disagreeable mood.

  Susannah attempted to cajole her out of it, only to have her head nearly bitten off for her pains. She helped her to dress but the old woman was tetchy and difficult to please, changing her clothes twice.

  ‘Bring me my looking-glass,’ Agnes said. She scrutinised her reflection for some time. Then she sighed. ‘I never was a beauty, like my sister, but old age has cruelly stolen away what looks I had.’

  ‘What you lack in youth is made up for in strength of character,’ said Susannah.

  ‘Why don’t you simply say you think I am a cantankerous old biddy?’

  ‘Because it isn’t true. Not always, anyway,’ she muttered, only half under her breath.

  Agnes hooted with laughter. ‘Fetch my rouge pot, miss, and I’ll have no more of your impudence!’

  Agnes eventually decided she was ready to face the world and, leaning heavily upon her stick, hobbled her way to the chapel.

  Nothing pleased her that morning. Susannah offered to read to her but Agnes was in no mind to listen. They set up the chessboard but Agnes lost interest almost immediately. Emmanuel and Joseph’s chatter gave her a headache and she sent them down to the kitchen. Peg brought in her dinner on a tray but Agnes barely tasted the rabbit fricassee or the salad of herbs.

  Susannah, quite out of temper with it all, passed a miserable day undertaking her duties with less than usual care. Agnes drove her to distraction with her constant ruminating upon their probable fate if the plague drifted on the air towards the Captain’s House. Added to this, Susannah had sharp pains in her hips and although she knew this was only because the ligaments were loosening to help the baby’s passage, the discomfort made her quite as bad-tempered as Agnes.

  Once they had finished supper, Susannah escaped into the cloisters where William discovered her weeping into her handkerchief. He carried a large parcel which he hastily put on the ground before sitting down on the bench beside her. ‘Susannah, what is it?’

  ‘Everything!’ She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes.

  ‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’ He touched her hand, stroking it softly with his forefinger in a way that made her want to lean her head against his broad chest.

  ‘Agnes was cross with me all day and I lost my patience with her.’

  He gave a wry smile. ‘She’s very difficult to please when the mood is on her.’

  ‘And I’ve been having such frighteningly vivid dreams. I see my mother on her childbed, crying out for help while the doctor looms over her, laughing and sharpening his knife. ‘

  ‘That’s very unpleasant but it was only a dream, Susannah.’

  ‘William, I’m so scared about the future!’ Anxiety tightened her chest. ‘I can’t stay in this house for ever. Where will my baby and I go?’ Tears began to flow again and she blew her nose noisily into her handkerchief.

  ‘There’s no question of you having to go anywhere else.’

  ‘And I have heartburn all the time and my back aches and I’ve begun to waddle like a duck.’

  William stared at her and then gave a shout of laughter. ‘Come here!’ He put his arm round her and pulled her against his chest. ‘It’s true that pregnant women are subject to peculiar dreams and strange fancies …’

  ‘But I …’

  ‘Shh!’ He put his finger over her mouth. ‘But this is the strangest fancy I ever heard.’

  ‘What, worrying about what will become of me?’ She closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of him, clean linen and warm skin, and revelling in the strength of his encircling arm, wishing the moment could last for ever.

  ‘No. The duck. You could never, by any stretch of the imagination, be considered to move as gracelessly as a duck.’ William took the soggy handkerchief from her and with infinite care wiped her tears away.

  His face was so close to hers that Susannah could see the flecking of dark stubble on his jaw.

  She moistened her lips and her heart began to do somersaults.

  Slowly, William cupped her chin in both his hands and studied her face in minute detail. ‘You are so very lovely,’ he whispered.

  ‘William?’ she breathed.

  He groaned and his mouth came down on hers.

  Susannah slid her arms round his neck and drowned in the warmth of his kiss. Gentle and yet passionate, she could feel that he held himself back, which made her all the more eager for him. Loose-limbed and yielding, she wanted the moment never to end. She knew she would never forget that kiss, not if she lived to be seventy.

  At last he released her and tipped her chin so that he could look deep into her eyes.

  She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. ‘The other day, in the garden …’

  ‘I nearly kissed you then.’

  ‘I thought so. But …’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘I wondered if I repulsed you.’

  ‘How could you?’

  ‘I saw you looking at me.’ She touched a hand to her belly.

  ‘Of course you don’t repulse me! You’re blooming like a glorious rose …’

  ‘That waddles like a duck.’

  ‘A glorious rose. But I thought you would find it indelicate of me to declare my feelings when you are carrying my cousin’s child. And so soon into your widowhood.’

  She looked away from his searching gaze. ‘I didn’t love Henry,’ she said at last. ‘I tried to. I wanted to. But I couldn’t.’

  He let out a slow sigh and stroked her cheek with his thumb. ‘I can’t say I’m sorry for that.’

  ‘I was so shocked when I discovered I was to have his child.’ Embarrassed, she looked down at the ground. ‘The marriage wasn’t … it wasn’t consummated for some months. And then it was only the one time and I never imagined it would result in a child. Particularly as both Henry and I found it so … unsatisfactory.’ Momentarily, she relived the humiliation she had suffered when Henry walked away from her. Defiantly, she looked William full in the face. ‘I know it isn’t seemly to talk of such things but I wanted you to know.’

  His eyes met hers for a long moment. ‘I’m very glad you told me. Too often I have imagined you and Henry …’ He looked away from her, his jaw clenching. ‘Jealousy is a terrible thing.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Susannah, thinking of Phoebe. She didn’t want William to have secrets from her. Was this the right moment to tell him that she knew he had been Phoebe’s lover and Joseph was his son?

  William bent down to pick up the parcel from the ground. ‘I have a present for you.’

  The moment was lost. ‘For me?’ She took it from him, the weight of it heavy on her knee. Curious, she slipped the string off the parcel and pulled back the brown paper to expose the contents. She gasped with pleasure. Inside was an apothecary box made of willow wood and when she lifted up the hinged lid by the little brass handle she saw inside a miniature set of scales, a sharp knife, a pestle and mortar, a funnel and mixing bowl. All rested upon a tray, which lifted up to reveal phials of sulphur, mercury, salts and oils, together with little boxes of dried herbs. She picked up a silver measuring spoon and examined it. ‘Oh William,’ she breathed, ‘it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!’

  He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Most women would reserve that kind of praise for rubies or pearls. But I thought you would like it.’

  ‘I do!’ She hugged him.

  The door to the kitchen flew open and Phoebe ran out. She hesitated when she saw William and Susannah entwined together.

  Susannah slowly disentangled her arms from William’s neck.

  Phoebe looked at Susannah with accusing eyes and then turned to William wringing her hands. ‘Master, com
e quick!’

  ‘What is it, Phoebe?’

  ‘The missus. She beating Emmanuel! Come now!’

  William gave Susannah a wry glance and they set off for the house.

  Agnes was incandescent with rage and Emmanuel cowered in the corner of the chapel as she laid about him with her stick. Joseph ran to his mother and buried his head in her apron while he cried with great gulping sobs. Aphra leaped up and down, her agitated screams adding to the confusion.

  William prised the stick from Agnes’s hand and made her sit down.

  ‘I simply will not have it!’ Her chin trembled. ‘In my own house that … that … slave dares to molest my serving maid!’

  ‘What serving maid?’

  ‘Peg, of course! I came to find Susannah since she had chosen to neglect her duties even though she knows I need assistance to unlace my bodice.’

  ‘Agnes, I’m sorry …’

  The old woman ignored her. ‘And what did I find? Emmanuel forcing the girl against the wall, tearing at her clothing while she cried out and struggled against him. I’ve had the care of that boy since he was five years old and now he betrays my trust. Take him out of my sight! Tomorrow you will go to the docks to find out when the next boat sails for Barbados. My brother shall have him back to work his fields. The overseer will make sure he has no time for ravishing the servants then!’

  ‘No!’ Susannah couldn’t stop herself. ‘Agnes, you can’t!’

  ‘Who gave you leave to speak, miss?’

  Emmanuel let out a low moan and threw himself at Agnes’s feet but she kicked herself free of his clutching hands. ‘Shut him up in the cellar, William. Come, Susannah!’

  Casting a pleading look at William, Susannah had no choice but to follow her.

  Once Agnes had been unlaced and put to bed, still simmering with anger, Susannah ran up to the attics and knocked on Peg’s door. Hearing no answer she lifted the latch to find Peg lying face down on her bed.

  ‘Did he hurt you, Peg?’

  She turned over, her eyelids red and swollen, and shook her head. ‘Oh, miss, the mistress will turn me off without a reference!’

  ‘No, she won’t. It’s Emmanuel she’s angry with. She’s locked him in the cellar.’ Susannah patted the girl’s shoulder but she continued to cry as if her heart would break. ‘Did he force you?’

  Peg shook her head again, choking back the sobs.

  ‘The mistress is going to send him back to Barbados.’

  Peg burst into noisy tears again.

  At least Agnes had arrived in time to save Peg from dishonour, thought Susannah as she patted the girl’s heaving shoulders and made comforting noises. Poor, motherless little scrap, her short life had been full of fears and she had been fond of Emmanuel, who made her laugh. Susannah sat down on the edge of the bed stroking Peg’s hair until her sobs subsided and she fell asleep.

  Watching the light begin to fade through the attic window, Susannah’s thoughts were in a whirl. She needed time to assimilate what had happened with William and over and over again she relived the moment when he kissed her.

  As darkness fell, she stood up and crept towards the door.

  ‘Miss?’

  ‘Yes, Peg?’

  ‘Emmanuel was my friend. Why does God take away everyone I love?’

  ‘I can’t answer that. He must have His reasons.’

  ‘I wish my mother hadn’t died,’ Peg whispered.

  Susannah paused in the doorway, remembering her own mother. ‘So do I.’

  Downstairs the atmosphere in the kitchen was sombre. Phoebe wept silently as she went about her duties and even Mistress Oliver’s chins trembled as she scrubbed fiercely at the kitchen table. ‘I should have realised and stopped it,’ she said. ‘Big as he is, Emmanuel is little more than a child. I knew he had his eye on Peg but I never thought …’

  ‘We’re all guilty of that. He’s fond of Peg and I suppose he was carried away by his feelings for her. But what he did was very wrong. I’m going to talk to him.’

  ‘The master has him locked up tight in the cellar and we’ve instructions not to go near.’

  ‘I shall go anyway.’

  She went down, holding her nose as she passed the overflowing slops drain. The coal-cellar door was closed and padlocked and the key nowhere to be seen. ‘Emmanuel?’

  Somewhere behind the door she thought she heard a movement. She called his name again but there was no reply. ‘Emmanuel, don’t be afraid, I shall speak to Dr Ambrose.’

  She found William in his study, twirling one of the captain’s globes on its stand, lost in thought.

  Susannah watched him for a moment, studying the shadows and planes of his face in the dying light.

  He glanced up and his frown disappeared. ‘Susannah! I wondered where you were. I looked everywhere for you.’

  ‘I helped Agnes to bed and then went to sit with Peg. She’s very upset.’

  ‘What did she say about Emmanuel? Did he ravish her?’

  ‘She says not, though I suspect they let their feelings for each other run away with them. Shall I light the candle?’

  William reached out a hand to her and pulled her onto his knee. ‘No, I like the gloaming.’ He picked up a lock of her hair and pulled it through his fingers, watching the curl spring back into place. ‘Your hair is the colour of the chestnuts I used to collect as a boy. At Christmas, we always roasted them on the fire at Merryfields.’

  Susannah rested against William’s chest and hoped she wasn’t too heavy on his knee. It was odd how very comfortable she felt with him, as if she had come home after a long journey. There was no trace of severity in his face at all when such a smile lit his eyes. She spun the globe, searching for the Americas, where her brother Tom lived. ‘William, you won’t really send Emmanuel back to Barbados, will you? He may have done wrong but I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.’

  ‘Agnes will not allow him to stay here.’

  ‘But she must!’

  ‘Where else can he go?’

  ‘He could …’ She floundered. ‘He could go and work for another mistress.’

  ‘Who will employ an overgrown black page? The streets are awash with servants abandoned by masters who have fled to escape the plague. You know yourself how very hard it is to find a placement. And Emmanuel would come without a reference.’

  ‘He’s strong. Perhaps he could work on a farm in the country?’

  ‘Country people will be suspicious of a black face. They’re not as used to such sights as we are in London and I doubt he’d find work there. In any case, he is Agnes’s slave. Unless she chooses to free him she can do whatsoever she wills with him. And she is determined he will go back to the plantation.’

  ‘Then we must change her mind! He didn’t really hurt poor Peg.’

  ‘I don’t agree. He is a young man, overstrong and with the sap rising in him. He must leave the Captain’s House and be put to hard physical work so that he has no time or energy left to make such mischief.’

  Susannah pushed herself off William’s knee. ‘Emmanuel is terrified of being sent back to the plantation. You must not allow that to happen! He’s been a part of this household for nearly all his life; everything he knows is within these walls.’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘I cannot believe you are so hard-hearted!’

  ‘Trust me to know best how to deal with this, Susannah.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me!’ Rage boiled up in her breast. What was the matter with him that he couldn’t understand what a terrible thing banishment back to the plantation would be for Emmanuel? ‘I’m disappointed in you, William. I thought you had more compassion.’

  ‘And I had hoped that by now you would trust me.’

  They glared at each other.

  Stunned, Susannah couldn’t believe how quickly matters had changed between them and a hollow ache of misery blossomed under her ribs. If he’d made even a small movement towards her she would have fallen into his arms.

&nbs
p; After a long moment she turned and left the room without looking back.

  Chapter 20

  William had already taken Emmanuel away with him by the time Susannah went down to the kitchen early the following morning. Peg crept about her duties hunched over like a little old woman. Phoebe, her eyes still swollen with weeping, pushed roughly past Susannah with a bucket of night-slops on her way to the cellar, while Joseph trailed after her asking again and again when Emmanuel was coming back.

  ‘And you can wipe that sour expression off your face, miss,’ said Agnes later on as Susannah laced her into her bodice.

  ‘I am not sour, Agnes, only sad.’

  ‘I thought you were fond of Peg and I’m surprised you take such a lenient view of Emmanuel’s conduct.’

  ‘Of course I’m fond of Peg! But Emmanuel didn’t ravish her.’

  ‘It was only a matter of time. You must have noticed the lascivious looks he gave her?’

  ‘But even so … to get rid of him like a puppy you have grown tired of …’

  ‘I forbid you to speak of it again! You shall train Joseph to take up Emmanuel’s place. You can start by teaching him how to deliver a message and the correct way to address his betters.’

  ‘Yes, Agnes.’

  Susannah moved about her duties in stubborn silence, pinning Agnes’s hair up under her cap, pulling back the bedlinen to air and folding away her nightshift.

  After she was dressed, Agnes dismissed her and continued to sit before her dressing table, lost in thought.

  Two days later, preoccupied by anxieties, Susannah was sewing clothes for her baby in the garden. Agnes had given her a fine linen sheet, washed over the years into silky softness, and told her to sit outside and make herself busy. Only too happy to escape from the claustrophobia of her mistress’s bedchamber, she had collected her sewing box and settled herself in the dappled shade of a honeysuckle bush. William hadn’t spoken to her since their argument. Pride forbade her from chasing after him and, in any case, she still believed he was in the wrong.

  Fashioning the tiny garments made her realise that in a very few weeks she would, please God, hold her baby safely in her arms. But what then? What if the baby cried as much as Samuel and Joshua? Would she be able to fulfil her duties as Agnes’s waiting woman? Would Agnes find an excuse to send her away? Relations between them had been strained since Emmanuel’s banishment.