The Apothecary's Widow

by Diane Scott Lewis

  They slumped together, gasping; the cloying smell of sweat and sex permeated their clothes and skin. “I love you,” she murmured into his mouth as she clung to him. “No matter if we die in here, we’re as one.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Dawn’s dim light peeked through the high windows as Branek awoke. His back and neck ached from sitting up all night and leaning against the rough stone. Jenna’s head nestled on his shoulder. His arm around her buzzed with numbness, his fingers cold in the frigid air, as he’d given her his leather gloves to wear. He warmed his fingertips in her soft locks.

  How adventurous their lovemaking had been; but the compassion between them, through a long talk afterwards, was far more important. His heart felt content with her beside him. This was how love should feel: a divine airiness in the soul, a much grander experience than from any church teachings. He glanced upward and almost laughed at his sentimental musings. But he felt a strange freedom, an unusual gratefulness toward his deceased wife for releasing them both.

  If only he and Jenna weren’t trapped in this confounded engine house.

  He kissed the top of her auburn head, smelling the faint scent of lemon. “Wake up, my dear. Morning is upon us.”

  “I’m awake, but too comfortable to move.” She straightened and rubbed her temples, then down her back. “Oh, my hips an’ spine are not so comfortable.” Her smile proved she wasn’t sorry for the sacrifice.

  His stomach growled and he bent and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek. “How about breakfast for a hungry man?” Another hunger stirred, but his bladder was bursting. “But first, I must take care of business.”

  He stood with a groan; his knees screamed with pain. “I apologize for being so ungentlemanly.” He moved forward, turned his back to her, unbuttoned his breeches, and relieved himself in the space where the old Newcomen engine used to sit. The smell of urine was sharp.

  “I’m afraid I must be just as unladylike.” She stood, massaging her back again.

  He turned away for modesty’s sake as she tugged up her skirts. Glancing at the stony ground, he thought of a soft bed. “We must find a way out of here before we contemplate any more pleasure.” In his youth, this place had been a fascinating castle; last night it was a haven, but now a prison. “Please stand back from the door.”

  Glaring at the offensive timbers that blocked their exit, he raised his booted foot and kicked at the wood. The door cracked slightly. He kicked again, the force bruising his foot. The door moved a fraction, sunlight inching its way around the edge.

  He raised his other foot and kicked with all his might.

  A huge crack and a splintering sound. He gave a few more kicks. Dust and chips of wood sprinkled the air. The door opened several inches. He gripped the edge and wrenched it back and forth. Something broke and the door came free.

  He stepped out, took a breath of fresh air and squinted in the light. The plank that had been wedged under the old latch had split in half.

  “I’m glad you didn’t do this last night.” Jenna joined him, blinking, her expression relieved nonetheless. “I would’ve missed a very exciting evening.”

  He laughed and hugged her against him, the musty smell of the engine house drifting off of them. “I planned it that way, you know.” Had he refrained from such action to bind them together? “More excitement soon to come, I hope? And tender comfort.” Everything he’d been denied in the past he saw in her sweet green eyes. The acceptance as a man that he’d yearned for.

  “Most assuredly, all of those things, an’ plenty of love.” She removed the gloves and straightened his wrinkled cravat in slow strokes, her smile endearing.

  “Love, what a wonderful concept. Especially with you. When I saw you walking toward me yesterday, I was certain the fates had answered my feeble prayers.” He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “But I wanted to chase you away from the danger.”

  Three curlews squawked overhead, puh-weet, pursuing one another in the lightening sky. A hare hopped behind a rock. The wind was still for once.

  “I want to share in any an’ all dangers with you.” She trailed a finger along the stubble on his jaw. “There will be more consequence, in society, when they hear about us.” Her eyes glistened with emotion, though her tone was almost a challenge.

  He squeezed her hand. They must proceed carefully and he’d ruminate over what he could offer her. He took in her rumpled beauty, her wild, loose auburn hair, and desired her now. “Don’t worry about that. I assure you I’ll do everything that’s possible.”

  Unfortunately, his concerns about Grace’s potential involvement in the murder, and Chenery’s treachery kept their plans at a standstill. He and Jenna could not afford to look complicit in any wrongdoing.

  The plod of hooves over dirt and stone sounded in the distance.

  “Mr. Pentreath!” Two men on horseback, one leading Zeus, appeared past the largest tor.

  “Ah, Will and my groom, it looks like.” Branek wiggled his sore toes in his boots, slightly disappointed he wouldn’t have more time alone with Jenna. “I hope they’ve brought food.” He gazed down at her. “But we should remain discreet, until I figure out Chenery’s game. And no, I don’t think you’re beneath me. I want to protect you.” He cared little about protecting himself, and that relieved him. “We have much to discover about each other.”

  “A beautiful rhyme, an’ I agree about not stirring up any more problems.” She released his hand and patted down her crinkled dress, rearranging her hair under her straw hat. “We also must tell the law to find Lew Polwin. He did attempt to kill you. I don’t want him to try again.”

  “Neither do I.” He resisted giving her another kiss. Emotions coursed through him; the tension softened as his heart nestled into warmth. He put on his gloves to redirect those thoughts. “And we’ll find ways to see one another until the crime is solved.”

  Will and Uther neared. Zeus whinnied at seeing Branek, as if he’d worried all night about his master’s predicament.

  “What happened, sir?” Will dismounted and approached, his blue eyes sharp. “I never realized you hadn’t arrived home last night. And then Uther came to tell me early this morning that Zeus returned to the stable by himself.”

  “’Ee did, sir, the good ole horse.” Uther rode up and handed Zeus’s reins to Branek. His lean, leathery face, that never smiled, seemed about to break into one now. “Quite the shock, it were.”

  Zeus whiffled and sniffed him. Branek patted his stallion’s neck. He scanned the horse’s smooth, white body. “I’m relieved to see you unharmed, boy.” He explained to the two men what had taken place the evening before with Polwin. “You didn’t happen to bring any of Cook’s pasties, did you?” he joked to cover his disgust with the miner.

  “We were so worried, we didn’t think of it.” Will eyed Jenna, though his gaze wasn’t displeased; he appeared only curious at their being together. “We had to question the men cleaning up at the mine who said you’d gone out this way.”

  “I’m grateful you searched for us.” The world looked sunnier, kinder, and Branek wanted to toss Jenna up in his arms, like a young man exploring first love. But who could be trusted to keep their secret from the constable? He attempted to wipe the exuberant grin from his face.

  “Should I ride to tell the magistrate about this Polwin lout?” Will asked, returning to his mount.

  “Yes, please hurry.” Branek disliked having to prosecute a distressed worker, but the lad had tried to kill him. He turned to Jenna, his heart easing again. “Zeus will take us to your cart, then we’ll both ride to Polefant Place, where we can obtain much needed refreshment.” And await the arrest of the young man. Branek also wondered if Odgers had already taken Grace into custody.

  * * *

  Jenna ate the fishy, with a hint of sweet, eel of the conger pie in Sally’s warm kitchen. She and Branek had parted at the manor without a word, at her suggestion. Whispering as they’d ridden down the valley slope, she
had sat tucked before him on Zeus, enjoying his warmth, his arm around her. She’d collected her horse and cart and followed the men to Polefant Place.

  “What a scandal, it be. That blackguard Mr. Polwin trying to kill the master.” Sally snatched up a hot poker from the hearth and thrust it into a pewter cup, sizzling the cider inside. She set the cup before Jenna. “This will heat you up fine, dear.”

  “I have little sympathy for the lad since he could have asked for help.” Jenna drank the cider, tart and tasty with its pungent apple flavor. The liquid warmed her stomach. Her musings kept drifting to her evening in the engine house. Branek had said he loved her. As long as he didn’t remarry, she could share nights with him; except, how long would he refrain from marriage when he needed an heir?

  “Your mind be someplace else.” Sally nudged her shoulder and snickered. “How were it last night, confined with the master?”

  “Sorry.” Jenna stared at the cider then scratched at her dirty hair and itchy scalp. “I was thinking of worries that I need to push out into the future.”

  “An’ you didn’t answer my question. You was all alone the two o’ you in that cold place. Weren’t easy, ess? You said you were fond of him. So what happened?” Sally’s eyes glinted with mischief.

  “We were much concerned if we’d get out. An’ quite starving.” Jenna drank deeper, and wouldn’t reveal what they’d been starving for. “Thank you for the food. Uther should have fed, watered an’ replaced the shoe on my horse by now. I need to be on my way home.”

  “You’re still dancin’ around a reply. Oh, la, I must get this stew into the pot.” Sally picked up a cleaver and started chopping onions at the work table, raising their sharp smell. “Gossip will chide you, no doubt, you an’ Mr. Pentreath cooped up together like that.”

  “If Uther keeps quiet, an’ you too, my dear, maybe word won’t get out.” Jenna had small hope for that. She stood and smoothed down her bodice. Her burgundy gown might be ruined—sacrificed to pleasure. She didn’t welcome the shame of gossip, especially for Branek’s sake, but she steeled herself to get used to such whispers.

  “I’d never say a word. Silent as me mam’s grave, I am.” Sally slid over a hunk of mutton and started chopping the pink mass. “An’ you can trust Will not to tattle; always protective of the master, he is. Speakin’ of the master, he looked different when he come home just now, like he’s happy all o’ a sudden.” Sally gave her a sly smile.

  Jenna laughed to mask her embarrassment. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? He needs to be happy. I think I’ll go home an’ soak in a tub of hot water, an’ it’s not even Saturday night.”

  “Be careful in what you wish for, with happiness I mean.” Sally nodded, as if she was required to impart that sage advice, then chopped some more, increasing the pungent odors. “I still can’t fathom that the magistrate hauled Grace off to gaol. She stole, ’tis true, yet I can’t see her bein’ the one who killed the mistress.”

  Jenna was glad for the switch in topics. “I would not wish such a charge on her, but the crime needs to be over with.” She pondered why the maid would have done it in the first place. Branek swore he never touched the girl, but unreturned love could be a powerful reason. She shivered with the nagging feeling that the murder wasn’t yet solved.

  Sally stared around the kitchen. “I have another tidbit for you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mrs. Sandrey weren’t supposed to tell, but, she found a letter never posted from Mrs. Pentreath to a person called Moses. Sounded like a love letter, it did.”

  Jenna hid her surprise by plucking at her sleeves to straighten the cloth. “Does Mr. Pentreath know about it?”

  “He does. I wonder who this person could be.” Sally hacked at the mutton a few more times, blood and meat clinging to the blade. “Can’t see the lady all in a passion for anyone but God.”

  Jenna couldn’t either after what she’d learned about the former mistress of the house. “Poor Mr. Pentreath. To find this out after his wife was so cold to him for those many years.” It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t go to him this minute and comfort him. She wished he’d confided in her about the letter, though they’d spent their time in more thrilling endeavors. A satisfied heat threaded through her. She’d once thought her nights with Lemuel had been pleasure, but now she knew the difference. Lem’s rough handling and Branek’s tender caresses were like comparing scratchy wool with the sleekest silk.

  Jenna shook off her reverie. “Sally, did Mrs. Pentreath have any visitors in the years before her illness? A friend who came and might have even stayed? Moses might be an old beau.” Or a new one, she didn’t say.

  “Mostly church people visited. An’ her folks stayed a time or two for the Christmas season, before they went to the colonies. Probably tied up in some prison by them horrid rebels by now.” Sally raised the cleaver, her mouth pursed. “The mistress, she didn’t encourage visitors, except them church friends, and any vicar or bishop she could seek to impress. No strangers I remember ever came here to see her. An’ I never noticed her being sweet with anyone.”

  “Come to think of it, if she had a beau she would have hid him.” Jenna fought another urge to find Branek and hold him tightly, to feel his body against hers. She sighed, then an additional thought struck her. “Sal, did you ever tell Mr. Pentreath about the argument between Will and Mrs. Pentreath? Her threat to dismiss him?”

  “Naw, not me. I knew the master would never have listened to that nastiness from the mistress anyway.” Sally picked up a pail and called for the kitchen maid from the scullery. “Halloo, girl, I need water!”

  Jenna threw on her cloak, said goodbye and hurried out the kitchen door. It did seem that more than one person in this house had wanted the lady silenced.

  * * *

  Jenna accepted the basket of eggs the old farmer handed her and placed them on her table. The day after her parting with Branek, she stared about her sparse kitchen as if she no longer belonged in it. A strange idea that didn’t make her wistful for some reason.

  “Oh, Mr. Kernick, you are too generous.” She smiled into his gaunt face. “But you don’t need to go to this much trouble for me.”

  “We’re still friends, an’t we?” Kernick bent his long skinny legs and sat near her hearth. “Chickens are doin’ well, so why not share?”

  “Then I’m grateful. How are you? Well, too, I hope.” She noted he looked even bonier than the last time she’d seen him. She poured him a cup of tea.

  “Can’t complain, though my daughter says I usually do.” He chuckled, his saggy jowls wagging, and slurped the tea. “How’s your shop? I know you was worried.”

  “Times are hard for all of us with the war. But I’m getting by.” She fingered the smooth, delicate eggs, and had to believe her own words. Where her life would go from here she had no idea as she still floated on the delightful change of circumstances with Branek. Her reawakening as a woman. “I’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

  “Don’t fret. I’m not going to ask you to marry me again. I’ve decided I’m too old and ornery for another wife.” He snickered then winked. “I heard ’bout your entrapment in the Poldice Valley with a certain squire.”

  Already the news had slipped out. Had her musings shown on her face? She firmed her gaze. “Well I hope you didn’t come here to ask me about that, for ’tis no one’s business.”

  “Naw. You know I only wish the best for you. Others won’t be so kind. Men stray about, so why shouldn’t a woman, if both are unmarried?” He stretched out his legs, and the firelight glinted on polished leather.

  She glanced down, determined to change the subject, at what appeared to be a new pair of brown jackboots. “Have you come into some money? Those look very sleek.”

  “That’s what I come to tell you about.” He coughed into his hand. “I helped a man fix his curricle wheel t’other day. Broke down in front of the farm, so I hadn’t much choice but to help. An irascible little imp he were, in his expensive clothes
. Still, he were generous, an’ he gave me a few shillings.” Kernick laced his long fingers with dirty fingernails together on his concave stomach. “I needed new boots, so I spent it, along with a piglet to get this good pair. This man seemed nervous, like he wished no one had seen him. Then when that runt of a constable came.”

  “Chenery?” Jenna cringed at the mention of him. “What did he want?”

  “They was arguin’. They didn’t know, after I went inside, that I was looking out my window. I’ve learned to tell what people say by watching their mouths, since my hearing’s not so good.” He touched the side of his face. “But my eyes is as sharp as ever. Seemed like it was over money, their blatherin’. The constable demanded more an’ was mad ’cause the imp gave me some.”

  Jenna slowly stirred sugar into her tea, her thoughts tumbling. “That is odd. But why do you call the stranger an imp?”

  “My girl, when she were little, always liked stories with fairies an’ imps. This man were small. Like a boy with a man’s age on him. Not one o’ them dwarfs, mind you. But made Chenery seem taller by half an inch.” Kernick smacked his thin lips, his eyes hooded. “I swear I saw Mr. Pentreath’s name mentioned, an’ the murder, so it bothered me, what with you makin’ the medicines like you told me.”

  Jenna plunked down her cup on the small table, nearly spilling the tea. She took a slow breath. “Can you describe this tiny man?”

  “Pasty skin, so he don’t work outside much. A strand of dark, straight hair poked out from his wig.” Kernick pulled back his long legs like dragging ropes. “Had a face that looked as if he’d sucked on one too many lemons.”

  “Bra…Mr. Pentreath suspects the constable is being bribed an’ out to blame him for his wife’s death. I believe the same. ’Tis a possibility this stranger could be a part of it.” She tapped her chin and leaned against the hearth brick. “Who could this man be?” She’d like to shake the truth out of the wily little constable, but that would make him even meaner toward her. Her worries for Branek surged through her. She must inform him about this “imp” as soon as she could.