Death at the Wedding Feast Part 9

Her lower lip trembled. *Oh what a shame! I had so hoped . . .' Her voice trailed away.

*Oh come along, John.' This from Sir Gabriel. *What difference can one more evening make?'

And what indeed? So John made another elegant bow to Lady Bournemouth and said, *Madam, my father has persuaded me. I shall be delighted to accept your invitation.'

Irish Tom, somewhat relieved to pa.s.s a night under Sir Gabriel's roof where he was very popular with the serving staff, got down John's trunk so that he could find a decent suit of night clothes, while Sir Gabriel went off to find himself something ravishing in black and silver.

Two hours later, dressed to the inch, the pair departed for Kensington Gore, to a house not far from the country seat of Sir John Fielding. Within, John found the decor rather ornate but was pleased that the company had an equal share of younger people to older. In fact he was glad now that he had let his better nature win and had accepted the invitation. The plan of the evening was to play cards, this to be followed by a cold supper and music. It was a delightful change, made all the more so by the fact that John was asked to partner Miss Cordelia Clarke, a great-niece of Lady Bournemouth's, visiting London from Exeter, by all the strange coincidences. The fact that she was very lovely to look at, with a great ma.s.s of red hair a very similar to that of Rose a and a delightful retrousse nose, made John's task even more pleasant.

*And tell me, Miss Clarke, where exactly do you live?'

She gave him a look from eyes the colour of purple pansies. *Why Sidmouth, Mr Rawlings. Where I vow and swear I have seen you out walking. Though of course I must be mistaken.'

*Not at all,' he answered. *I often visit Devon'

He should have added that he had a friend nearby a a very close friend a but some awful imp inside him made him cut the sentence short. But he needn't have bothered.

*Do you have friends down there?' Cordelia asked.

*Yes, several,' John answered. *Lady Sidmouth is one of them.'

She clasped her hands together. *Why, she and my mother are old acquaintances. But I am far better friends with her daughter.'

*Of course, Felicity. A charming girl. And do you know Miranda Tremayne?' he asked.

Cordelia gave him a rather dark look. *Yes, indeed. Do you know her well?'

*Only casually. I have met her once or twice. Why do you ask?'

*Because I don't really take to her. There is something of a shifter about the girl.'

*Oh come now. I think she is merely jealous of other women and cannot resist a barbed remark if she can make one.'

Cordelia smiled. *Well whatever the case, she doesn't like me.'

John should have been thoroughly ashamed of himself for playing the dandy, but he did so nonetheless. *With your beauty, Madam, I am not at all surprised.'

Miss Clarke went a gorgeous shade of pink. *Come now, Sir. I do declare you are flirting with me.'

John thought that he might be about to drift into deep water but saved himself by giving a small bow and saying, *Forgive me. I have a habit of doing that in the company of lovely women.'

Thankfully at that moment Lady Bournemouth called everyone into cards and the Apothecary was saved from behaving reprehensibly. He played an even poorer hand than usual but glancing across the room saw that his father, spectacles clamped firmly upon the high bridge of his nose, was in fine form and scoring point after point. Love for the old fellow overwhelmed him and made him lose what little concentration he already had.

At last the ghastly game was over and everyone retired to the supper room. He was in some ways relieved to see that Miss Clarke had attracted the eye of another suitor a a superficial young fellow with a very small mouth a who was making much of her. She, still young and clearly inexperienced regarding the wicked ways of the world, kept glancing across at John who bowed and nodded and smiled.

*Who is that?' asked Sir Gabriel, pausing with a piece of cold salmon perched upon his fish fork heading towards his mouth.

*A great-niece of Lady Bournemouth's, I believe,' said John casually, hoping that he sounded more genuine to his father's ears than he did to his own.

*An extremely beautiful gal.'

*Yes, I suppose she is. Would you believe that she comes from Sidmouth?'

Sir Gabriel shot him an amused glance. *Well, well, what a coincidence. Tell me, is she acquainted with Lady Elizabeth?'

*I'm afraid that our conversation did not touch upon the matter.'

*No, I'm quite sure it didn't,' answered his father, and turned his attention to the salmon.

They returned to Sir Gabriel's home fairly late and went immediately to bed. All around him the house was silent except for the ticking of the great clock that stood in the hallway, yet the Apothecary found himself lying awake, listening to the silence. For no reason at all he kept hearing Rose's voice telling him about the woman in the brown bonnet and how he was to lie flat when he saw her. It made no sense. In fact he would have dismissed it as an illusion had he not come across this sort of thing before. For his daughter was gifted in a way that he did not fully understand yet could not disregard.

When he finally dropped off to sleep he had a strange dream. He dreamt that he got out of bed and went downstairs to find that he was not in his father's house but instead in his own home in Na.s.sau Street. He went into the living room and there were Sir Gabriel, years younger, and his mother, Phyllida, still alive and looking as beautiful as she had before death came for her. They were conversing fondly and John realized after he tried to speak to them that they could not see or hear him.

*Mother,' he called out, but she merely put her hand down and patted a large ginger cat which sat fatly upon a cushion beside her.

*Please look at me,' he shouted.

But she and Sir Gabriel continued to smile and gaze at each other till John thought it unseemly to stare at a couple who loved one another so much, and left the room and climbed back up the stairs and into bed, where he awoke next morning.

Twelve.

He had promised Elizabeth that he would be away two weeks at the most, so felt that he would be rather overburdened with things to achieve in that short s.p.a.ce of time. But such were Jacquetta's powers of organization that the Apothecary almost felt de trop when he sat down with her on the first morning of his return and went through a long list of figures. It seemed that this new sparkling mineral water was proving an enormous success. Vaux Hall had ordered a large quant.i.ty, as had Ranelagh Gardens, though this last piece of marketing had been achieved at the hands of Nicholas Dawkins, the Gardens' consultant apothecary. Mr Napthali Hart had ordered some for Marble Hall, which was to open in a month's time, and meanwhile was keeping a supply in store for his student dancers and fencers in Ess.e.x Street. But Mrs Fortune wished for a consultation about the bottles and called a meeting for that evening when Gideon Purle could join their company. John felt that it was the least he could do to ask his apprentice to dine with them, and duly broached the subject on arrival in his shop.

Gideon stood behind the counter in his long ap.r.o.n looking so terrifically a.s.sured that the Apothecary's heart sank. It would not be long now before the young man would apply to be made Free and the whole process would begin all over again.

*My dear chap, how are you?'

*I've never been better, Sir.'

John's heart sank even further as he thought that he would have to waive the fornication rule as he had done with Nicholas Dawkins several years ago. For one of the binding strictures of apprenticeship was that one would not have s.e.xual relationships, which grew very awkward when the boys reached a certain age, as John Rawlings knew from personal experience!

*I hear that you and Mrs Fortune are going like h.e.l.l-cats with sales of the water.'

Gideon blushed endearingly. *They are indeed very good, Sir.'

*And tell me how the boys are shaping up. What about young Fred? Is he behaving himself?'

*He hero-worships Robin and has announced that he too would like to be an apothecary if only his reading and writing skills were better.'

*But surely they taught him those at the Foundling Hospital?'

*I think it was pretty basic stuff, Sir. Apparently his reading is well ahead of his writing.'

*Then we must give him some lessons. Everyone should be allowed to realize their potential.'

*Please don't look at me, Mr Rawlings. I am at full stretch with the shop and the business.'

*No, I wouldn't inflict that on you, Gideon. I'll have to send the child to a teacher of some sort. And talking of the business, can you come and dine with me today? Mrs Fortune has called a meeting for this evening to discuss the bottles.'

*Thank you, Sir. I knew about the meeting, of course.'

*You and she are fairly close these days, I take it?' John asked innocently.

*Yes, we are. Very. Only in a professional sense, of course,' Gideon added hastily.

*Naturally. I wouldn't have presumed anything else,' the Apothecary answered, and went into the compounding room, grinning.

They dined formally later that day. John, for once clad all in black, sat soberly at the head of the table looking at the beautiful woman that Jacquetta was turning into and thinking to himself that Gideon Purle was obviously and hopelessly in love with her. She, on the other hand, kept her thoughts and emotions very much to herself. Quite a shuttered and secretive person, John concluded. As she grew in confidence so she became more a woman of mystery. The Apothecary found her totally intriguing.

No sooner was dinner finished than the subject of bottles was raised.

*Just to put you in the picture, Mr Rawlings,' Jacquetta said, *we were wondering what type of bottles should be used. We have so far been selling the water in containers which resembled those used for physick. This has the disadvantage of certain people thinking that they were literally taking their medicine.'

*I favoured stone bottles,' Gideon ventured. *But Mrs Fortune could not decide. That's why we were waiting for your return.'

John paused. *Well, we need something unusual. Something which echoes the contents.'

There was silence during which everybody thought, then John continued, *Supposing we have two bottles; one stone and one gla.s.s. The stone being sold slightly cheaper.'

*But what about style, Sir?'

Jacquetta spoke. *Why not have a square bottle with a slender neck rising from it, and the words "J. Rawlings, Na.s.sau Street" etched on the front?'

*And it should be green to match your eyes,' said Gideon, then blushed so violently that he resembled nothing so much as a tomato.

John smiled and caught Jacquetta's glance, which remained blank, though a slight twitch of her eyebrow told him that she was highly amused. *That, my dear Gideon, is a splendid idea,' he answered, partly to save his apprentice's discomfort. *Green bottles it is. Now what do you think of having stone bottles as well?'

*A very good plan,' said Jacquetta. *That means that the waters can be drunk by those not so well placed in society as others.'

*Which includes the majority of the population,' answered John, and so saying rose and poured three gla.s.ses of port from the decanter on a side table.

*Here's to the success of our enterprise,' he said, then turned to Jacquetta. *And I would like to toast you, Mrs Fortune, for organizing the launch of the business so well. You truly are a woman of amazing skills.'

*Hear, hear,' muttered Gideon besottedly.

And this time Jacquetta smiled.

A week later and he was off, catching the same flying coach from the Gloucester Coffee House. But he, that most gregarious of people, spent most of the journey in moody silence, realizing that he must make some plan for the future. The arrival of the twins had sealed his fate, he could see that clearly. Somehow or other he must impress on Elizabeth the importance of making a firm decision about what lay ahead.

Thirteen.

Dressed in his lilac-bloom taffeta with a double breasted waistcoat in subtle rose-pink and silver, with breeches tight enough to take your breath away, John felt ready to take on the world as he carefully climbed into the carriage which was taking them to Sidmouth House for the grand rout to celebrate the betrothal of Miranda Tremayne to the Earl of St Austell. Beside him sat the Marchesa di Lorenzi, looking every inch the part, dressed in midnight blue, her hair swept high, a cascade of ribbons descending down one side of her face, accentuating the scar yet at the same time adding to her look of finely chiselled hauteur.

Yet despite her loveliness and despite his love for her, John could not help feeling that they were now both in a hopeless situation. Since the birth of the twins he had wanted nothing more than to live as a family unit. But this would mean giving up his shop in Shug Lane and moving to Exeter, against a formidable group of rivals a apothecaries who had spent many years building up their reputations and businesses and who would not welcome a newcomer on the scene. As for begging Elizabeth to move to London, he had given up on that score. She would point to her great house, her enormous estate, and say, with truth, that this was the place to bring up children; this was the place to let them breathe the fresh air of the Devon countryside; this was the place to teach them to ride and to swim. Mentally John shook his head. Elizabeth and he had reached a situation out of which there was no foreseeable way.

It was late April, and one of those exquisite evenings that the month could so breathtakingly produce. Everywhere, as the carriage moved forward, John could see the triumph of spring a that fresh, bright greenness of leaf and bud bursting through the dead wood of winter. Colour was coming back, crocuses were thrusting their way through one of the great lawns, while below them the sea was gentle and full of song. Just as they alighted from their coach the evening sun caught the edifice of Sidmouth House and bathed it in a luminescence like the inside of a seash.e.l.l.

The receiving line that met them in the grand hall was headed by Lady Sidmouth herself, hideously gowned in puce, her small facial features swamped by a large feathered headdress. Next to her stood Miranda, clothed in pale blue with white lutestring decoration, a perfect example of blushing, maidenly modesty. With her eyes cast to the floor, she glanced up at each new arrival and lisped, *Oh thank you,' as they announced their good wishes. And next to her stood the man himself a the Earl of St Austell, with his cruel raven's face and his long white hair, tied back in a scarlet ribbon, and his large imposing stature. John did not know exactly what he had been expecting but nothing on the lines of this. Sir Clovelly had given him some idea, had painted a word portrait, but this man exceeded everything that had been said about him. He was the picture of an absolute brute that age had in no way diminished. For one minute John felt a tremendous compa.s.sion for Miranda, before that was replaced by the thought that she had willingly chosen the man.

He caught Elizabeth's eye as they pa.s.sed into the big saloon. *What do you think?' he murmured.

*He's rotten to the core and doesn't give a d.a.m.n who knows it.'

*But how old is he, for heaven's sake?'

*Seventy-two a and all set for another ten years at least.'

*Poor Miranda.'

*Poor Miranda indeed,' Elizabeth whispered back.

The saloon was filling up with people, several of whom John recognized. The first person on whom he set his gaze was Lettice James, the gossipy woman he had met on the stagecoach who had tried to pump him for information about Lady Elizabeth. Her eyes widened to twice their size when she saw them enter the room together. She came over, swift as a bird, literally trembling with excitement.

*My dear Lady Elizabeth, how are you? I have been so concerned. I was saying to this gentleman I met on the stagecoach a that was where it was, was it not, Sir? Anyway, I was saying to him that I had not seen you at all these past few months and was hoping you were not poorly.'

*Actually,' the Marchesa answered with a smile, *I was pregnant.'

Lettice looked as though someone had hit her in the solar plexus. *Oh, oh! I had not realized you had married again. Forgive me.'

*That's perfectly all right, my dear, because you see I haven't. You say you have already met John?'

A tiny nod came from the other woman.

*Well, he is the father. We had twin boys by the way.'

There was the sound of a strangulated gurgle and Lettice James became very pale.

*And now if you'll forgive me,' said Elizabeth sweetly, *I see someone else that I know. Good day to you.'

And she swept on, John following behind like a little lap dog. Glancing over his shoulder he could see that the poor creature had been forced to sit down and that Felicity was leaning over her administering salts.

*Elizabeth, how can you be so forthright?' he reprimanded. *The woman is in shock.'