by C. J. Archer
What was it about apothecaries and erection problems? Pullman was the third to make the suggestion, including Isabel herself in jest.
"It’s something of a poisonous nature. I need a substance to kill the rats in my warehouse."
"Poison? Oh." Pullman sounded disappointed. "In that case, come with me. We keep them under lock and key."
The shop was similar in layout to many Nicholas had visited on Bucklersbury, including Isabel’s, with the storeroom near the stairs out the back. Nicholas watched as Pullman withdrew a large key from his long gown and inserted it into the door.
"These poisons must be valuable," Nicholas joked.
"Valuable? Oh, no no no." Pullman pushed open the door to reveal a small room crowded with more jars, strange animals, and spare parts for the distillery. "We are required by the City authorities to keep them safely locked away. And I always do as the authorities suggest."
That’s not what Nicholas had heard. His sources had told him that of the five apothecaries who stocked the poisons used in the latest attempt against the queen, Pullman was the most lax when it came to dispensing them. He never asked the customer why he needed the dangerous substances and for a fee he would forget to write down the purchase in his record book. The other apothecaries on Nicholas’s list had varying degrees of security with Shawe’s being the strictest about who they dispensed their poisons to.
"So every time you sell these poisons you have to come out here?" Nicholas persisted. "How tiresome."
"It is, it is," Pullman said as he climbed the ladder.
Nicholas noted the location of the three jars containing monkshood, hemlock and henbane. "And you’re the only one who can unlock this room? But what if you weren’t here today? I’d have to go to another shop."
"Not so!" Pullman sounded offended as he climbed back down, a jar under his arm. "My son has another key, as does my other apprentice. One of us is always around. No no no, there’s no need to go to my competitors. A bunch of quacks," he scoffed, "especially down at Shawe’s."
"Shawe’s?" Nicholas followed Pullman back into the shop where the apothecary proceeded to measure out an amount of the pre-prepared poison into a phial. "I heard they had a good reputation." It was true. Over the last two days he’d questioned his landlady, her maid and several inn keepers and all had recommended Shawe’s for herbal remedies. Apparently "the pretty shop girl," as the maid called Isabel, had a cure for anything and sound advice to go with it. Her only complaint was that she didn’t sell love potions.
Before he handed over the phial, Pullman asked for payment. "Now all I have to do is register the sale," he said, indicating his large accounts book. When Nicholas didn’t comment and the silence began to stretch, he added, "Of course, anyone can come here and read the register to see who has been sold what. And the authorities are very concerned about the sale of poisons, particularly in these troubled times. In fact," he leaned forward, "I’ve heard a recent attempt on Our Gracious Sovereign’s life has led to a secret investigation by the Privy Council."
News traveled fast in some circles. Interestingly, Pullman was the only apothecary Nicholas had visited to mention the plot. It may not mean anything except that he was the stupidest of the lot to be giving away such information to a complete stranger.
"How much would keep my name off that register?" Nicholas asked.
"A crown."
"That much!"
Pullman gave him a benign smile. "As I said, there is an investigation going on."
"That’s not my concern." Nicholas slapped his hat on his head. "I only want to poison a few rats. Go ahead and register my name. Make sure you spell Merritt with two R’s and two T’s. Everyone gets that wrong."
"Very well," the apothecary said, writing in his book. "Is there anything else, Sir?"
Nicholas hesitated then said, "Do you sell love potions?"
Pullman’s face lit up. "Of course!" He turned to his jars and pulled out a large one labeled Caraway Oil for Lovers. "This is the best in all of London. It has the highest success rate." He began pouring the liquid into a phial then stopped. "But if you require it to make a woman fall in love with you, I cannot recommend it."
"Then what is the point? Is it a love potion or not?"
Pullman chuckled. "No no no, you don’t understand. This love potion ensures that the woman who consumes it will stay with her husband. Or lover," he added with a wink. "It ensures they do not stray."
Nicholas cleared his throat. "Keep pouring."
The apothecary did as ordered, smiling the entire time, then handed the phial to Nicholas. "It’s also useful for flatulence, stomach ailments and preventing theft."
Nicholas studied the phial. "Theft?"
"If you rub some of the oil on an object it won’t be stolen. The same properties in the caraway that prevent a woman, or man, from straying prevents the object also from disappearing. It’s a most useful potion."
"Indeed." Nicholas pocketed the phial and thanked the apothecary.
"Are you sure I can’t interest you in some ground unicorn’s horn?" Pullman said. "I’ve just received some from my supplier so it’s very fresh."
"Unicorn’s horn? For the rats? Or is that a love potion too?"
The apothecary dropped his gaze to Nicholas’s groin. "Your staff."
Nicholas stalked towards the door. "My staff works perfectly. Good day."
He strode down Bucklersbury towards Isabel’s shop wondering how many men had asked her to cure their erection problems. The only cock she should be thinking about was his.
If he had anything to do with it, she would be doing more than just thinking about it later. Perhaps he could entice her back to the rooms he rented after dining at the Four Feathers. Although judging by her reaction after their encounter against her bedchamber door, it would take all his powers of persuasion to get her to agree.
"Good day, Sir. How is your yard today?"
With his thoughts still on Isabel and her bedchamber door, it took a few moments for Nicholas to realize the man blocking his path was speaking to him.
"My what?" he asked, looking down into the face of the man he’d met at Isabel’s two days earlier. Lawrence Shawe.
"Your flaccid member," Shawe said in a voice loud enough that anyone walking past would have heard.
"Fine, thank you," Nicholas said, silently cursing Isabel’s quick witted response that day.
"Good, good. My father has the best remedies in town." Despite his serious tone and friendly manner, Nicholas had the feeling Shawe was enjoying himself.
"Yes, his assistant was most helpful in...alleviating my condition." Nicholas flashed him a smile.
Shawe’s jaw slackened. "I, ah, well, that’s good I suppose." He squared his shoulders and tugged the fur collar of his cloak in a way that was intended to draw Nicholas’s attention to the fine garment. "What was your name again?"
"Merritt."
Shawe frowned. "That sounds familiar." His mouth twisted as he thought. "I’m good with faces so I would recognize you if I had seen you before the other day. Are you a friend of Father’s?"
"I’ve never met him." Nicholas kept his face passive and his body still as he watched Shawe try to remember. No doubt he had heard somewhere that Isabel had married a Merritt. Perhaps when Old Man Shawe first took her in, he had explained her situation to his son, mentioning her marriage, and the matter had never been spoken of again.
Shawe shook his head. "No, I can’t recall. Perhaps I’m confusing you with Wherrett or Perrett."
Nicholas flexed his fingers and relaxed. "Tell me, you’re a physician for Her Majesty, are you not?"
Shawe straightened. "I am."
"So you would know about this latest plot? I hear she has been poisoned," he added when Shawe just blinked back at him.
The physician glanced around them then stepped closer. "Where did you hear that?"
"Pullman the apothecary let it slip," he said. "Quite easily I might add."
"And what
were you doing speaking to that quack about Her Majesty’s health?" Shawe seemed to be more offended that Nicholas had visited another apothecary than shocked at hearing the news was out. Probably he knew it was impossible to keep such gossip inside palace walls.
"I was buying some rat poison from him and he offered to keep my name out of his register. For a fee. He says the City authorities take a dim view of people who buy poisons."
"He did, did he? And what were you doing buying poisons from him when you could have bought it from my father’s shop?"
Ah, good, the conversation was leading exactly where Nicholas wanted it to. "I didn’t know your father sold poisons. I was given Pullman’s name by a neighbor so I went there first."
"Well, he does. The assistant you have already met could have helped you if only you’d asked. She has the key to the storeroom where the poisons are kept."
Nicholas raised one eyebrow. "The only key? What if it was lost?"
"Isabel is very careful. She doesn’t lose things."
Only husbands and only on purpose.
"You are heading to my father’s shop now, I see?"
"What makes you say that?" Nicholas asked cautiously.
Shawe tipped his chin up, looking pleased he had guessed correctly. "You are only a few steps from the front entrance and you were walking in that direction."
Well deduced. "I wanted to see your father’s lovely assistant again." Nicholas decided to stay with the truth this time. "Tell me, is she married?"
In the few heartbeats it took Shawe to answer, the still air hung heavily around Nicholas’s shoulders. The sounds of people going about their business on Bucklersbury Street seemed to fade to a distant hum.
"She was once," Shawe finally said. "I don’t know what happened to the husband."
"Does she have any male callers?"
The physician’s eyes narrowed. "What business is it of yours?"
I’m her husband, Nicholas wanted to say. But he refrained because it wasn’t what Isabel would want at this point, nor would it suit his purposes. When his investigation concluded, however, he would tell everyone she was his.
"No business of mine," Nicholas said lightly. "But I do find her most enchanting. I thought perhaps I could see more of her, but I wanted to know what my competition was like."
"Your competition? She is not a prize to be won at a country fair. She is a wonderful, caring, generous woman and deserves better than men like you who think a wink is enough to woo her."
It seemed Nicholas’s competition was standing right in front him. He wanted to tell the puffed up toad that he’d skipped the wooing stage and gone straight to tumbling but he bit back his retort and managed a laugh. "Well said, Shawe, well said." Nicholas slapped him on the shoulder. "Shall we go see her? Perhaps she has something else for my member today."
"I thought you said her remedy fixed it?"
"Yes, but today is another day, is it not?" He laughed at Shawe’s splutter and steered the physician towards the shop.
***
Isabel had expected to see Nick again, but not so soon and not with Lawrence. Not that Lawrence looked pleased about it. If his top lip curled any further it would disappear up his nose. Nick must have said something quite distressing to rile the usually calm doctor. Whatever it was, Nick himself must have found it amusing because he was laughing.
She turned back to two of her regular customers warming themselves by the fire. Meg and Anna, whores who frequented the shop at least once a week, had just purchased salves on credit for bruises which Isabel suspected their whoremaster had inflicted. Isabel handed them the pots but both were too intent on gazing at Nick and Lawrence to notice.
"Who’s he then?" Anna asked loud enough for the gentlemen to hear. She shrugged one shoulder so her coat slipped off to reveal a large amount of breast jiggling over the top of her loose bodice. Although she didn’t look up to see, Isabel assumed Nick was watching. One of the men, probably Lawrence, clicked his tongue.
"A customer," Isabel said.
"Mighty handsome brute." There was no chance Nick couldn’t have heard that—Anna practically shouted it across the room. "Tall and dark too, just my type."
"They’re all your type," Meg said with a roll of her eyes. The quieter of the two, Meg looked weary and drawn of late. When Isabel had first met her, the young girl used to take pride in her appearance, but lately her face paint looked like it had been slapped on carelessly, her wig was often askew and her clothes were little better than rags. Having always had a soft spot for her, Isabel worried that something was wrong. Perhaps it was related to the bruising. She had been about to ask when the two men had entered.
"Come on, Anna," Meg said, tugging her friend’s sleeve, "we’d best go or Biggin will give us a what-for."
Isabel squeezed Meg’s arm. "Stop by again soon and we’ll talk," she said quietly so no one else could hear.
Meg smiled. "Thanks, Izzy, I will." She hooked her arm through Anna’s and dragged the bigger girl towards the door.
"Bye, Handsome," Anna said to Nick, blowing him a kiss as she passed. He smiled and winked back at her. "And bye, Doctor Shawe. Maybe next time you can give me a real thorough check up."
"I doubt you can afford my fee," Lawrence said without looking up from the gloves he held.
"But I’ll wager you can afford mine." Anna’s tinkling laughter followed the girls out the door until it swung closed.
"Really, Isabel, I don’t know why you allow those harlots in here," Lawrence said. "They’re degrading the shop’s reputation."
She shrugged. "They’re paying customers." Sometimes. "And I enjoy their company." She said it to get a reaction out of Nick who hadn’t stopped smiling since his arrival, but it was Lawrence who spluttered an objection. "Now what can I do for you, Sir?" she asked Nick before Lawrence could lecture her on the suitability of the company she kept.
Nick approached the counter and leaned on it. "I seem to have the same problem with my member again. Could you prescribe your unique remedy again? It worked wonders yesterday."
"Two days ago," she corrected quickly. Good grief, it was as though he didn’t care if Lawrence guessed what had happened between them!
He grinned at her, the two dimples puncturing his cheeks in a most irritating way. Her stomach fluttered as a sickening thought occurred to her—what if Nick had already told Lawrence he was her husband?
"Physicians prescribe," Lawrence cut in, "apothecaries dispense. Isabel may I see you out the back, please."
"Yes!" she said, relieved to be out of Nick’s compelling presence.
Isabel ordered Fox to leave his task in the storeroom and mind the shop while she spoke with Lawrence. Once they were alone, she turned to her employer’s son. "You look flustered," she said. "Is something wrong?"
"That man..." Lawrence shook his finger at the door leading to the shop, "...bought some poison off Pullman!"
Isabel chewed her top lip to stop it lifting in a smile. "Do not concern yourself. A lot of people go to Pullman for poison. He has a reputation for being lax with his record keeping. But his other remedies are a swindle. He’s been investigated by the Grocer’s Company a few times but they haven’t been able to prove anything that warrants throwing him out of the guild."
Lawrence shook his head, dislodging his hat. "You misunderstand. I’m not concerned that he went to Pullman’s, but I am concerned that he bought poison. You see, I saw him go into two other apothecaries before Pullman’s and he bought poison at each of them."
"How do you know?"
"I went in and asked."
"Lawrence! It is none of your business what...that man buys or who from." She was surprised he had followed Nick in the first place. Whatever for? Jealousy?
He glanced at the closed door. "Don’t you see the coincidence, Isabel, with the recent poisoning of Our Supreme Sovereign?"
She chewed her lip, considered the idea for a moment then dismissed it. Nick might have secrets but he was no traitor.
"Just because he bought poison doesn’t mean he used it on the queen. There are many legitimate reasons for buying poison. Perhaps he has rats."
He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Actually I was thinking more along the lines that he’s the one investigating the attempt on her life. Why else would he go to more than one apothecary to buy poison?"
Isabel laughed then suddenly stopped. The idea wasn’t so ridiculous. It explained the real reason Nick had walked into her shop and her life two days ago. He was investigating her, or Shawe’s in general. Good Lord, how extraordinary!
Well, she was no traitor and if he knew her at all then he would know that, despite her family history.
