The Apothecary’s Apprentice 11
The Apothecary's Apprentice
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Agnetta pressed on, her mind brimming with what she had seen.
She had just left the cover of the trees when the drumming of hooves arrested her.
Advancing was a female rider on a Spanish palfrey, whose milky coat was known as moon-coloured.
Agnetta ran her eye over the animal, then shifted her attention to the figure aboard.
A handsome young woman in blue velvet, she wore soft leather gloves and a broad-brimmed hat over her flaxen hair.
She pulled the mare to a prancing, snorting stop.
“Good morrow, maid. I am looking for my brother. My name is Honoria –”
“I knows who you be,” Agnetta cut in.
“Then likely you will know of whom I am speaking! Have you seen him?”
Agnetta thought fast. Happen she could turn this to her own advantage.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Now that wud depend.”
The rider dipped into her pocket and withdrew a silver coin.
“Might this refresh your memory?”
The coin went into the trug of primroses.
“Seems I does recall some’n. Him were with that tow-haired miss from the apothecary’s in town. Kissing, they were.”
Honoria’s face tightened.
“You are certain?”
“I cud be. And I cud not.”
A second coin was produced.
“’Twere her right ’nough, lady. And mind this. Yous shud not gallop that mare so. Her’s carrying.”
“In foal? Falada? I think not. My papa bought her for me only recently.”
“Carrying,” Agnetta repeated. “’Twill be August, I wud say.”
She pursed her lips and went on her way.
Honoria rode home, her mind on what she’d heard.
The girl’s prediction on the condition of her mount she dismissed totally.
The rest she did not doubt.
Anthony had been distracted of late, and now she knew why.
What was to be done about it?
A cautionary word to Anthony might suffice. Taking the matter to their father would be better.
Reynard Venables was in the stable yard when she arrived back and came to help her dismount.
“Honoria, you are troubled. What is it?”
She hesitated, then took the plunge.
“What I have to say is best not overheard.”
He took her to his study, shutting the door.
His look was wary.
“Anthony, is it?”
Honoria nodded.
“What is the problem? A girl?”
“Yes.” Honoria told her father what she had heard.
“She is the apprentice from Gryce’s apothecary.
“When I was stricken with the cowpox she came out to me.
“She was excellent. Her name is Jennet Parry.”
Honoria watched as her father absorbed the information, one hand to his beard, a frown on his good-looking face.
His hand dropped abruptly to his side.
“Parry? The daughter of the foreman who has plenty to say for himself on the running of my mine?
“By all that’s holy! Like sire, like whelp, is it? Trouble!” he growled.
“Father, the blame lies with Anthony. He was taken with her from the start.
“I would not like any of this to rebound on Jennet.
“She was exceedingly good to me at the time.”
“Aye, and rewarded for her pains.”
“This is unlike Anthony’s other indiscretions,” Honoria added.
“He may be serious about her.”
“I have no argument with the girl. ’Tis the father that is my concern.
“If he gets wind of this, there is no telling what might transpire.
“Leave it with me, child. I shall put a halt to it. As to the other matter, I shall keep tabs on Ned Parry and these infernal ideas above his station.
“One false move and he will rue the day!”