The Apothecary's Daughter Part 29

"Yes, I suppose we are."

He took a step closer, and grinned almost sadly. "Moreover, are we not friends? I had rather hoped we were."

She nodded. "You are right, Mr. Shuttleworth. Again, please forgive me.

"I shall. On one condition."

"Yes?"

"I have a proposition for you." He held up his hand. "A business proposition. You acquire what you need from me at cost a.s.suming you don't empty the crockery. And, in return, you sell me the herbs, flowers, and other garden stuff I need. I understand from Mr. Baylor you have an excellent physic garden."

"Not as fruitful as it once was. But we are working to revive it. In fact, we have been harvesting all week."

He pushed up his hat brim with the tip of his walking stick. "I own I have never been much of a gardener myself. I like clean hands and fine clothes too dearly. I must go to market for everything. It would be a great boon to have fresh Haswell herbs on hand."

"Truly? "

"Truly." He held out his hand. A gesture rare among unwed ladies and gentlemen, but common enough among tradespeople. Among business a.s.sociates. "Have we a bargain?"

With a rueful grin, she smartly shook his hand. "Indeed we have."

The next day, her father did not even get out of bed. A fortnight had pa.s.sed since she had made him promise to see a doctor, and still he refused. But she couldn't bring herself to force him against his wishes.

"I think I need to draw off some blood," he said. "Would you " mind bringing the leech] ar?

Lilly felt uneasy. "Are you sure that is the best course?"

"I believe so. I would do it myself, but it's a dashed bother to position them from a supine position."

Lilly went to find the leech jar. The simple white pot had a tightfitting lid and tiny air holes. Hirudo medicinalis were known to squeeze through the smallest of openings. An apothecary needed to take care when placing them on a patient's face that none found its way up a nostril.

She pried open the lid. A strong rotten fish smell rushed out and repulsed her. The water was dry. The leeches quite dead. How had she missed it during cleanup?

Lilly groaned. "I find we need to purchase some, Father. I shall help you as soon as I return." She did not wish to rile her father by admitting she planned to acquire the leeches from his compet.i.tor. She was relieved when he did not ask.

She went to find her reticule. "Aaron Jones is bringing a load of coal today," she called. "If he comes while I am out, tell him I shall settle up later."

"Very well. Don't be long."

Stashing a few bank notes into her reticule and sliding the small bag onto her wrist, Lilly hung the new hand-lettered Returning Soon sign on the door and let herself out. She walked briskly up the High Street and down narrow Milk Lane to Shuttleworth's. She did not like going there in the middle of the day, but it could not be helped.

"Miss Haswell!" Mr. Shuttleworth greeted her, looking up from his splendid central desk. "What a lovely surprise. Mr. Baylor is out, I am afraid."

"I came to see you, actually."

"Wonderful. How can I help?"

She took a deep breath. "I am in need of leeches."

"You and the entire medical profession. Did you know there is a shortage on? I had to order this last batch all the way from Germany. The French, it seems, are going through them by the barrelful."

"I had no idea."

"It does not signify, lovely lady. My leeches are your leeches." He chuckled. "Now if that is not the most gallant thing I have ever said."

She laughed. "Chivalrous, indeed."

Mr. Shuttleworth stepped over to his compounding counter, where stood an impressive leech jar nearly two feet tall and decorated with elegant floral and scroll work.

He paused to ask, "Have you milk at home?"

She nodded.

"Excellent. Encourages them to bite. Sometimes they seem capriciously determined to resist all attempts to adhere. If you ever have a great deal of trouble, you can always p.r.i.c.k the skin with a lancet and draw a little blood. They cannot resist it. Has never failed me."

She hoped it would not come to that.

Seeing her stare at the ornate jar, he explained, "The most exquisite leech jars are made in Staffordshire. I can order one for you if you like."

"Oh. Thank you, no. I shall content myself to admire yours."

Mr. Shuttleworth opened the lid, extracted one wet leech, and held it aloft for her inspection. The wormlike body was murky green with yellow stripes and as thick and long as her forefinger.

"Humble but hardworking creatures like these deserve the most elegant of raiment." He gave a wink and a tug on his waistcoat. "Like me, ey? Now, how will you transport your new friends home? "

Chagrined, she lifted her reticule. "This is all I thought to bring."

He chuckled again. "Why not? I shall just pop a few into a small jar, and you can transfer them to a proper one at home."

"I am afraid our poor jar is nothing to yours."

His long teeth gleamed at her praise. "You are very kind to say so.

A quarter of an hour later, Lilly walked into her father's surgery with their own leech jar, cleaned and filled.

"Here we are. Five fat H. medicalis."

"Only five?"

"There is a shortage on. The French cannot get enough of them. Leeching is all the crack there doctors using fifty at a time, then salting them."

He shook his head in disapproval. "Makes them regurgitate the blood so they can be used again. But kills them if you salt them too heavily."

"Right. So, we shall make do with five very hungry German leeches, shall we? "

"Very well."

He had already washed and rinsed his chest during her absence. She removed the leeches from their damp jar and let them crawl about on a cloth for a few moments to dry. At the surgery side table, she had a pot of milk, wine gla.s.ses, and a lancet at the ready.

She laid the first leech on her father's chest, then a second. She turned to pluck a third from the cloth, only to return to find the first two crawling away. One was heading for her father's neck, the other for his waistband.

Oh dear. The gla.s.ses. Right.

One by one she captured each leech under a small upturned wine gla.s.s, trapping it in the desired area. She felt as though she were performing a circus act in Astley's Royal Amphitheatre, hurrying to keep the plates spinning before they fell.

Finally, she stood still, both hands splayed. "There."

"Yes, as long as I don't make any sudden moves," her father said. "Or cough."

"Or talk. Steady on."

"Tickles devilish, but no bites."

Frowning, she removed the first wine gla.s.s and dabbed a bit of milk on the spot before replacing it.

No good. She hoped she would not need to resort to the lancet. The thought of drawing blood from her father, cutting him even superficially, made her queasy.

Remembering something she'd overheard in Mr. Lippert's shop in London, she turned and hurried to the door. "Don't move."

"Where are you going?"

"To the tea set."

"Tea a now? "

She returned with the sugar bowl and mixed a spoonful into the milk. The sugared milk did the trick, and one after another the leeches bit her father, evidenced by his five successive winces.

When she was sure they had each adhered, she removed the wine gla.s.ses, returning them to the side table.

"We'll let them take their fill," he said. "Let them fall off by themselves."

"Very well. Are you warm enough? " She picked up a lap rug hanging over a chair and laid it over his legs.

"Thank you, my dear." He sighed. "If only you had been a boy. The son I might have left my shop to."

"Shh. You will be back on your feet, running the shop in no time."

"For how long? For what reason? What good is a legacy with no one to leave it to? There has been a Haswell in this shop for nearly a hundred years. But now a ?"

"Father, Haswell's is not going anywhere. But for now you must regain your strength. Which you won't do by fretting."

"Bossy girl. Sound like a physician."

"No. I sound like you." She grinned. "Worse yet."

It has been recommended, to bleed people when they are lying down. Should a person, under these circ.u.mstances faint, what could be done to bring him to again?

MRS. BEETON'S BOOK OF HOUSEHOLD MANAGEMENT

CHAPTER 25.

illy had never seen the woman before, yet there she sat in 1 Haswell's surgery, boldly giving Lilly detailed descriptions of all her feminine flows and woes.

"I feel like a good bleedin' is all I need," the barge pilot's wife said. "There's nothin' like it to balance the humours, I always say. I've been to Dr. Foster, but that man is worse than a cross headmaster. I like the notion of a female apothecary. So much easier to discuss one's flux without embarra.s.sment, if you know what I mean."

Lilly managed a meek smile. She had been the one to insist her father return to sleeping in his bedroom instead of the surgery. She had counted it a small victory when he had finally relented. Not only would he get more rest in his own bed, but it freed the surgery for private discussions and examinations. The idea had sounded appealing. In theory.

"So you have been bled before," Lilly began nervously. "Can you tell me if the blood was let from elbow, ankle, or throat?"

"Had my ankle opened once. If that didn't hurt devilish bad. Not the neck, either, if you please. Don't want to spoil my frock."

"The inside of the elbow it is." Lilly's pulse pounded in her ears. She began to perspire in a very unladylike fashion. Leeches, she could manage. Blisters and plasters, all well and good. But the lancet? Piercing a person? Drawing not a drop of blood but a veritable fount, were she to accomplish it correctly? Or a waterfall, should she use the manyrazored scarificator. She winced at the thought.

She began by washing the woman's arm that she could do. She had her recline in the bleeding chair, in case she swooned. Offered her a sip of water. Positioned her elbow on the small caster table for the purpose. Picked up the lancet and the double-handled bleeding bowl. Sat on the stool where her father always sat to do what she was about to attempt. If only her fingers would cease trembling.

She rose on shaky legs. "Will you excuse me one moment, Mrs. Hagar? "

The woman nodded, eyes closed. "If you have any blue ruin, I shouldn't mind a sniff. Takes the sting out."

Ignoring the request for strong drink, Lilly quickly padded up the stairs to her father's bedchamber. He looked up at her from over the top of a book. "Bloodletting, Father. I cannot do it."

"Of course you can. Seen me do it a thousand times."

"Seeing it done does not mean I can manage it myself." She suddenly thought of Mr. Shuttleworth. Perhaps he would perform the procedure for her.

"And you've no doubt memorized the prescribed method from one of the texts."

"Yes, but remembering the words is not the same as performing the act."