The Apothecary (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 3)

by Mary Kingswood

  But if not that, then why else were they loitering in the garden? Why had Adam pretended that he did not know the other man? Why had he pretended to find out about him, and then tell her that farrago of nonsense about romantic assignations? As if any rational man would be out at a quarter past five on an autumn morning for romantic reasons… and why was Adam there, in that case? The whole story was a tissue of lies.

  Oh, Adam! Her friend, whom she had trusted… whom she had so badly wanted to trust, and he was nothing but a deceiver. Her first impression of him as a man of glib words and no substance was, after all, the true one. He had betrayed her.

  She laid her head on the uncaring polished wood of the dressing table and wept.

  21: An Afternoon Walk

  As soon as the first ragged shards of dawn showed between the clouds, Annie sent for Betty. For the first time, the slight discomfort she now felt in the mornings manifested in violent sickness, but despite Betty’s strongly worded advice to return to bed, she insisted on dressing. Then she went slowly, reluctantly down to the hunting room, lit a candelabrum and sat down at her desk. The fire had been laid but not yet lit, but a few shivers suited her despairing mood.

  This was not something she could ignore. There was only one way to resolve the issue, and that was to address it head on. Accordingly, she pulled out a sheet of paper, trimmed a pen and began to write. She was not minded to hedge her words about with sweeteners, so even though her letters wavered more than usual, what emerged was blunt.

  ‘Cousin Adam, I saw you in the garden this morning with the other suspicious man. Please come at once to explain yourself. Annie Huntly.’

  Then she sent Billy off to deliver it to Wickstead Manor, while she paced about the room awaiting his answer. Would he come? Probably he would, and she had given him time to prepare one of his glib reassurances. If he were back at home after his night-time excursion, it would take him perhaps half an hour to dress, then he would have to saddle his horse and ride over to Willow Place. An hour, at the best. Perhaps longer. She prepared herself for a long wait, but she could settle to nothing else until she had seen him, so she paced. Up and down the room, up and down, her hands clenched together with painful tightness.

  He was there in three quarters of an hour, his hair disordered and his neckcloth a hasty knot. He must have entered the house from the stables, for there was no Sheffield to announce him. The anguish in his face was unmistakable.

  “Annie, I cannot—”

  “You lied to me!” she cried, her distress boiling over into outrage. “You lied to me!”

  “No! Never! Annie, I have never, ever lied to you.” He had stopped just inside the door, but as he spoke he moved forwards towards her, then, as if holding himself in check, stopped, his hands held out in mute appeal.

  “You did! You told me you knew nothing of the strange man I saw, but you were with him last night. You said—”

  “I never said I did not know him.”

  That gave her pause. “What? But… you did not tell me that you did know him. You promised to investigate and then you told me some nonsense about a romantic affair. It was all lies.”

  “Annie, I swear to you upon my honour that I have never once lied to you. It is true that I have not always told you everything, and I am sorry for it, but I could not.”

  He held his arms wide from his body, palms outward, and all her instincts told her that he was speaking the truth. Yet her instincts had betrayed her before. She dared not trust them now.

  “I do not believe you. Why were you sneaking about in the grounds this morning with a stranger? What possible connotation can be placed upon such actions?”

  He licked his lips, a hunted expression on his face. “You have trusted me up to this point, so can you not trust me just a little longer? We mean you no harm, I swear it.”

  “I cannot believe a word you say.”

  “It is the absolute truth, as God is my witness. Annie, you must believe me — I would never, ever harm you, and I have never told you a lie, not once.”

  “But you have not been open with me,” she cried. “You sometimes seem so confiding, so respectful of me, and yet you shut me out. How can I trust you when you will not trust me?”

  “Oh Annie, if you only knew how much I want to!” His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes almost as if he were in pain. “It cuts me like a knife to keep you in the dark, but it has all been done for the best of intentions.”

  “Best of intentions! Ha!” she said scornfully. “That is treating me like a child.” She turned away from him in disgust. “Go away, Adam. Go away and never come back.”

  His howl of torment brought her spinning round to face him again.

  “Annie, for God’s sake, do not send me away from you! You must know— I could not— Please, I beg you…Please…” He uttered something like a sob, taking a step towards her, but she would never be swayed by his words again. In a low growl, utterly unlike his usual light tone, he went on, “I would die if I could not see you.”

  She stared at him, bewildered. What was he saying? A bubble of something rose inside her, warm and joyful. Hope… that was what it was. And yet, she could not accept anything he said, not any more.

  His face changed, and he seemed to collapse in upon himself. He rubbed his forehead, eyes closed, and she was struck by how tired he looked. No wonder, if he had been wandering about Willow Place at night.

  “Oh, Annie,” he said wearily. “I am trying to protect you — we all are. It seemed best to tell you nothing about it, not after the shock of Rupert’s death, and your condition. We are taking shifts to patrol the grounds and watch the house, day and night. I assumed at first that the murder was just an encounter with ruffians… that Rupert was unlucky. But then the letter came from Aunt Connell and you suggested that James Huntly might be still alive and… that was a worrying thought. Captain Edgerton has been very helpful in organising us properly, finding likely points of entry and so on. He discovered, too, that the boat house has been used again recently, and not by anyone from the house, so you see—”

  “The boat house!” She stopped, unwilling to concede an inch, yet it was plausible, oh so plausible. The desperation in his expression tore at her very soul — he looked like a man who had lost everything he cared about, his face riven by grief. More softly, she said, “You were protecting me?”

  He nodded, heaved a breath, tried to speak, failed. He shook his head, his arms hanging limply by his side. She had never seen him so deflated and lost.

  “Who is he? That man I have seen… you know him, so who is he?”

  “John Ransome, my bailiff.”

  As soon as he spoke the name, she recognised him. She had only seen him at church and that one time he had acted as footman at Adam’s house, but he it was whom she had seen in the garden.

  Without waiting for her to speak, Adam rushed on, “He has been in love with Judith for… years, I suppose. Ever since Cousin Herbert died, John has been coming here at night to see Judith. She goes to the attic room above yours and waves to him. They dare not do more, not while she is still in mourning for her husband, for she is terrified of losing her reputation, but as soon as her year is up, they will marry. I break a promise by telling you this, but I cannot withhold anything from you. I know you will respect the secret.”

  All Annie’s anger was draining away. He had not lied to her, he had wanted only to protect her… the relief! He was still her friend… but she was in danger! She and her child were in terrible danger! She was overwhelmed with a suffocating wave of dread, robbing her of the power of speech. Staggering backwards, she collapsed onto a sofa, breaking into noisy sobs.

  He did not hesitate. At once he was beside her, his arms around her. She turned her face into his coat and cried piteously for a long time. All her shapeless fears rose up to drown her, and she could not think, could not compose herself, could not stop the hot tears from pouring unchecked down her face. She cried and he held her tight in blessed sile
nce.

  After a while, she was aware that her tears had lessened, and Adam was murmuring above her head. He was not saying anything meaningful, merely soothing nothings, a gentle rumble that inexplicably calmed her.

  She twisted her head to look at him. His face was so close to hers! So close that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek, could hear every ragged intake of air. Could see his eyes, so blue, like deep pools filled with sorrow and hunger…

  Somehow, and she could not say how it happened, they were kissing. Such sweetness in his kiss! Rupert’s kisses had been greedy and demanding, but Adam’s were soft and gentle and warm, filled with affection. With love, she realised, belatedly. He loved her. She had known that, of course, even if she had tried to deny the truth of it. Cecilia had revealed it, and her mother had hinted at it, oh so subtly. And Rupert had known! He had been jealous, of course, and that was why he had forbidden Adam the house.

  Wrenching away from her with a cry, Adam jumped to his feet and threw himself across the room, his face filled with anguish.

  “Oh God! Annie, I… forgive me, I… Oh, dear God, what have I done? I will leave at once!”

  “No!” she cried jumping to her feet. It was an impulsive response, but she knew what it meant. “Do not go. Please.”

  He stood, an arrested expression on his face. His hands, held up as if to ward her off, lowered. His breathing was rough, but when he spoke, his voice was low and controlled. “What would you have me do? I am yours to command.”

  The answer rose unbidden in her mind. “Hold me. Please… hold me.”

  He took a step forward, unsure. Then another and another. Slowly, he came to her, opened his arms, wrapped her in his embrace.

  It was like coming home. After the turbulence of the last few months, finally she was safe and secure and loved, truly loved for herself and not as some kind of precious creature to be shut away from the world. She was tall enough, she discovered, that her head rested most comfortably on his shoulder. He said nothing, but his breathing was rapid and he shook very slightly. Or perhaps she was the one shaking, it was hard to say.

  The clock struck the hour. Was it really only eight o’clock? She lifted her head. He was smiling at her! Very tentatively, she stretched out one hand and touched his face, the cheek rough and unshaven. He closed his eyes momentarily, but the smile widened.

  “You do not object to me touching you?” she said softly.

  The eyes opened wide. “How could I possibly object to so wonderful a gesture?”

  “Rupert did,” she said, with a spurt of bitterness. “He never held me, never allowed me to show him any affection.”

  “Then he was a fool,” Adam said quietly. “He never understood what a treasure he held in his hand. If you were mine—” He stopped, the breathing becoming uneven again. Then, slowly, he said, “Forgive me. That was presumptuous.”

  “I cannot make you any promises,” she said, her hand still on his bristly cheek. “I hardly know how I feel at this moment, still less how I may feel in a year’s time, except that… I am grateful. I needed to be held.”

  “You needed tenderness,” he said. “To be allowed to grow, not smothered with adoration.”

  “Rupert said I was like a rosebud, tightly furled. He wished to keep me that way for ever.”

  “Whereas I would love to see you unfurl those beautiful petals,” he said, smiling down at her.

  “I should like that, too,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “But first, I must mourn my husband and await my confinement. Then, perhaps, I might unfurl my petals.”

  “I shall look forward to it,” he said. “And until that day, I shall be your protector, your friend, your shoulder to rest your head upon. My arms are always available to hold you. All I ask is that you do not send me away from you.”

  “That you may depend upon,” she said.

  ~~~~~

  For days, Annie walked about in a glow of contentment. She knew she should not, with her husband only three weeks dead, and she hoped it was not obvious to the world, but she could not suppress her joy. Adam loved her! He was her true friend and protector, and he loved her. He had not lied to her, he had never lied to her, and for some unfathomable reason that mattered more than anything.

  She did not attempt to examine her own feelings closely. To admit that she loved Adam would be a betrayal of the worst kind to Rupert. He had not been a perfect husband to her, far from it, but he had done his best. She was not even sure if love was what she felt. So she had said to Adam, and it was true enough. Her education at the hands of her father and later, her uncle, had taught her never to make assumptions and always to keep to the facts. Whether it was the weather or healing remedies or her own heart, she would not presume to draw conclusions until she had more evidence. Adam raised her spirits and made her feel at ease with the world, chasing away her megrims and worries, and that was enough for now. A shoulder to rest her head upon, and arms to hold her. And lips to kiss her gently, but she would not think about that. Not yet. Next spring, when she held her child in her arms, God willing… then she would think about kissing and the condition of her heart.

  There were more immediate worries, however, like a murderer still at large. The rational part of her mind told her that the likelihood of James Huntly being both still alive and bent on murder was vanishingly small, but someone had killed Rupert, and until the reasons for that were known, there was no certainty.

  For three days, therefore, she obediently followed Captain Edgerton’s instructions not to walk in the park alone. Since it rained steadily every day and the wind was from the east, this was no hardship. She stayed indoors and caught up with her correspondence, worked her way through the pile of books she had selected from the more interesting shelves of the hunting room, and watched the progress of Jerome’s search for the missing will as he worked steadily through the principal rooms of the house. He had deliberately left the hunting room till last, since Adam had already searched it rather thoroughly, and the many hundreds of books to be examined was dispiriting, but each day he drew nearer to that prospect.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Cousin Annie,” he would say cheerfully in his ringing voice as he burst in upon her once more, Edwin just behind him, to check his lists, or to cross off another room.

  Sometimes Adam would appear in their wake, raising a rueful eyebrow at his brothers’ antics, and Annie would share a secret smile with him that warmed her inside.

  But then the rain stopped, the sun emerged and Annie gazed wistfully out of the window at the shimmering rain-speckled greenery. In that strange way he had of divining her changes of mood, Adam said, “Is this not your usual time for a walk?”

  “It is, and I would like nothing better than to stroll along the river on such a wonderful day, but Captain Edgerton has forbidden me from walking alone.”

  “Ah, that is sensible. Is there no one willing to accompany you?”

  She laughed. “Mama is no walker! A stroll to the hot houses to pick grapes exhausts her. Judith would go, perhaps, but she thinks Isobel is feverish, and I can hardly take the servants away from their duties to trail around the estate after me.”

  “What excellent news! I have been looking for some excuse to drag Jerome and Edwin out of the house before they grow so pale and wilted from lack of sunshine that they fade away altogether. We shall all go for a walk beside the river.”

  It took some time to convince Jerome of the benefit of leaving the house when there was a search to be completed, and it was only when Annie suggested that brisk exercise was conducive to improving the workings of the brain that he was persuaded to accede.

  “Is that true?” Adam said in an undertone, as they finally left the house. “That walking helps the operation of the brain?”

  “Well, it helps mine,” she said seriously. “If ever I have a tricky problem to address, I take a brisk walk and very often by the time I return to the house, I know how best to proceed.”

  “What a useful th
eory. I shall remember that when next I need to tear him away from some compelling project or other. Now Benedict is too much the other way. Can you come up with an opposing theory, do you suppose, such that I may convince him that an occasional day at home will improve his riding skills?”

  “Of course,” she said at once. “Everything must be in balance. Exercise must be balanced by rest, and mental exercise by physical exertion. The man-made wonders of art and created objects must be balanced by the beauties of nature.” She waved a hand towards the sinuous line of trees marking the river’s edge, their end-of-summer dark greens just tinged with the first hint of autumn gold. Ahead of them, where Jerome and Edwin were chattering animatedly, a pair of rabbits flushed from the long grass raced for shelter. Far above, a buzzard circled lazily in a rain-washed sky of palest blue.

  “The beauties of nature… you are a philosopher, Cousin Annie.”

  That made her smile, and shake her head. “Not in the least, but who could look at all this and remain unmoved? I love this place! The pleasure grounds, the walled garden, the park, the river… there is beauty in all of it, and to see it, to walk through it and be a part of it makes me feel whole, somehow. At one with the world.”

  “Is it only the estate which has this effect on you, or is the house part of it also?”

  “I love the house, too, but in a different way. There is a worldly pleasure in being mistress of such an establishment, and there is much about it to admire, but it does not feel like my house. It is a Huntly house, filled with the choices of… is it three generations of Huntlys now? There is not a chair or rug or painting anywhere that I selected. Not even a single book! Nor do I feel able to make any changes, not until I know whether I am to stay here. I am a tenant, a temporary resident, no more than that.” Edwin and Jerome, far ahead, vanished from sight into the bushes lining the river. She laughed suddenly. “If you intended your brothers as chaperons, Cousin Adam, I believe the scheme is a failure.”