Read Online The Apothecary's Curse by Barbara Barnett - Free Book Online

for the poultice. A miracle, indeed, you conjured for my Eddie.” She nodded, bowing slightly to Simon as she scurried into the autumn morning. A new customer entered the shop. Too bad.
    Erceldoune glanced up from his ledger, setting down his pen. “Ah, good morrow to you, Dr. Bell. You look much improved this morning. If you don’t mind, let me see to Lil’s needs and then I shall close up the shop that we might speak in private.”
    Good. Hopefully it would be quick. “Indeed, Mr. Erceldoune, but I am in quite a hurry, as you might imagine, sir.”
    Erceldoune held up a hand, motioning the young lady to a curtained area behind the counter.
    â€œA moment, sir! I’ll be but a moment.” Erceldoune turned away from Simon, ushering the girl behind a threadbare curtain.
    Simon roamed the shop, anxious, trying to find a distraction in reading the Latin labels on bottles of colorful liquids and jars of aromatic herbs. Erceldoune and the girl spoke in hushed tones, yet it was impossible not to overhear them.
    â€œAh, Lil, what have you got yourself into now, lass?” Erceldoune admonished the young woman, who could not be more than fifteen or sixteen years.
    â€œMr. Erceldoune, I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but Mr. Tremayne, he—” The girl sobbed as she explained what this “Lyle Tremayne” did to her.
    Simon’s patience waned as the minutes ticked by, no longer distracted after two circuits around the small shop. “Mr. Erceldoune,” he called through the curtain. “I must forthwith return to my wife—”
    Erceldoune reprimanded the girl, not unkindly, and not, Simon thought, for the first time. “Please, Lil, you must heed me, lass. I shall give you this remedy, but each time the medicine works less and less well. You must allow yourself time to heal. Lyle Tremayne is an evil bastard, and you should run as fast as you can to leave his influence. An aunt, a cousin . . .  anyone would be better than staying under his roof. I fear you should not be long for this earth should you insist on working for him and his monstrous lot.”
    As they emerged, Erceldoune removed a pair of gloves, setting them in a basket behind the counter. The girl nodded, her hand on the doorknob before the apothecary stopped her, handing her several coins.
    â€œMr. Erceldoune, I . . . It is I should be paying—”
    â€œI worry about you, y’know, lass. This should tide you over a fortnight, until you might again be able to work. If you’ve a need I can give you more—even enough to leave this place, if you would only allow me—”
    She nodded, taking the coins. “Thank you, Mr. Erceldoune.”
    â€œHelp yourself to a cup of my special tea; kettle’s hot. It’ll do you a good bit of good, but mind you keep the door locked as you leave.”
    â€œI will, Mr. Erceldoune, and thank you.”
    Erceldoune hung the “Closed” sign and led Simon through a door and into his private office.
    â€œForgive me,” Simon whispered, certain the young lady might hear them through the door. “I could not help but overhear . . . ?” Time was short, but he was curious.
    â€œAh,” sighed Gaelan. “Lil is a good girl. She got herself into some trouble with her family, and now she’s come to this merciless paradise, run away from a drunken father and an indifferent mother. She’s no choices, no future. Hundreds like her out here in these streets. Quite disheartening. But I do what I’m able.” He shook his head. “Now she’s got herself in with a very bad sort. Lyle Tremayne is more than a whoremonger; he’s a ruthless, murdering scoundrel, but do not allow me to get started on that blackguard.”
    â€œWhy is he not in prison?”
    â€œHa! Indeed, Lyle Tremayne possesses much influence for all his foul deeds—friends in Parliament, at