The Apothecary’s Apprentice 12


Allison Hay © Jennet and Anthony meeting. All characters for the daily serial The Apothecary's Apprentice

SUNDAY was here, and Jennet was alone at the trysting place.

Birdsong rang through the leafy branches, and drifts of bluebells and red campion drenched the air with their sweetness.

These glories of summer were lost on Jennet.

She had hoped to find Anthony here, waiting to greet her with some small token and smiles that gladdened her heart.

Instead, the clearing was deserted. Last week had been the same.

Her fingers stole to her new headdress, fashioned from a length of sea-green silk he had bought her.

Stitched at night in the tallow-lit seclusion of her sleeping place under the thatch, the fluttering folds made her feel different. More feminine and alluring.

She had wanted to look her best for Anthony.

Where was he? Had something again happened to delay him or, worse, was he tiring of her?

Jennet sighed, stung by the uncomfortable reminder that those of his background were known to dally with maidens less fortunate than themselves.

Yet how could she not fall under his spell?

She was unprepared and unsmiling when Anthony burst into the clearing, agitated and out of breath.

“Jennet, my sweet! I thought you may have given me up for lost and gone. But what is this? Why so downcast?”

“I-I was trying to decide what to do,” Jennet stammered. “But you are here now.”

“You can blame Papa for holding me up. He’s planning a feast and would have me go through the guest list with him.”

“Another feast?”

“Aye. Papa is taken with the idea of entertaining all of a sudden. ’Tis a way of bringing custom back to the town after the fire.

“But ah!” Anthony mocked a pose of despair. “The activity in the house is enough to drive a fellow to distraction.

“Strangers everywhere. Fond mamas fussing over pretty daughters. Servants rushed off their feet and Honoria with never a moment to herself.”

The reference to pretty daughters rang alarm bells.Jennet caught her breath.

“Your guests stay overnight?”

“Some do. Invitations go near and far. Many of the names on the list were unknown to me.

“Still, enough of that,” Anthony continued. “I was in Ludlow during the week and came across this.”

From his doublet pocket he produced a beautifully crafted lady’s money pouch in a soft pigskin the exact shade of her headdress.

“I was assured that coloured leather is the very latest,” he told her. “No other maid in Nantwich will possess the like.”

He smiled triumphantly and handed the gift over.

Jennet’s first reaction was of sorrow that this, too, would be hidden away in her cedar-wood box.

“Oh, would that I could use it for all to see,” she murmured.

“Happen one day you will. The headdress is very fetching. I knew that the colour would become you.

“Indeed, I would have you clad always in every colour of the rainbow. All the suitors in Christendom would fall at your feet for love of you.”

Jennet giggled.

“Fool!”

“What’s this? Fool, am I? Then let us be foolish together. Do you dance, Jennet? I vow you do.”

He seized her waist and jigged her round the clearing until she laughingly begged for mercy.

They then strolled on together along the leafy woodland paths.

All too soon Anthony took her into his arms and said he must be away.

“Already?” Jennet’s voice trembled. “Will I see you next week?”

“Ah, I think not. The feast is on Saturday eve and the entertainments are likely to continue into the night. I vow I shall sleep till noon.

“The following week looks more promising. Will I see you here, in our secret place? Promise me?”

Trying to conceal her disappointment at not seeing Anthony for 14 long days, Jennet nodded.

A smile, a kiss, and he was gone, striding away from her between the elms, the bluebells and campion crushing beneath his boots.

Bereft, Jennet pulled off the gauzy headdress, fished in her pocket for her plain linen cap and placed it over her hair.

She tucked the other away and set off through the little wood, heading for the heath and the spinney, and the herb gatherers.

Thomas would be expecting her and she was late!

She bunched up her skirts and ran.

As she went, the silken headdress fell out of her pocket and lay among the flowers along the path, a shimmer of sea-green in the woodland blooms.

To be continued…