The Apothecary’s Apprentice 14
The Apothecary's Apprentice
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- 1. The Apothecary’s Apprentice 14
Marketeers were setting up their stalls the following morning as Jennet made her way to work.
Under the shade of a chestnut, Thomas was unloading panniers of wares for Cecily Tewke.
His greeting was abrupt and Jennet paused.
“Thomas, is something amiss?”
Thomas shrugged.
“I was just thinking. I must get those herbwifery items to your grandmama. There is quite a selection.
“I was going to show you yesterday, but time was short.”
Conscious of the colour rushing to her cheeks, Jennet tried to bluff it out.
“I am sorry. I was delayed. Then I had to rush off to make the stillroom labels. It took all afternoon.
“My hand started to ache and I kept making mistakes and had to do another. The master would dock it from my pay if he knew.”
Thomas returned to unloading the panniers and Jennet darted a glance at the shop ahead.
It was still closed.
“Thomas, I must go. If I am late I shall be in trouble.”
She made her escape, weaving through the stalls.
Letting herself in through the shop’s side door, she found to her relief that the master was still in the living quarters above.
When he finally emerged, he had clearly made some effort with his appearance.
The lank hair was brushed and a clean robe replaced the usual stained and shabby garment.
Jennet wondered if he was expecting any of the town’s dignitaries to call by. Nothing had been said.
He gave her a nod.
“Good morrow, Jennet. You have made the labels as I requested?”
Taken aback by the greeting that replaced the usual grunt, she produced them from her basket.
Gryce examined each one.
“These are excellent. You have done well, miss.”
His manner was decidedly more agreeable and Jennet regarded him with suspicion.
She was further surprised when Gryce suggested she retained the oak-bark ink and quills he had provided.
“There is sure to be more penning required and we are not short of stationery.
“I am of the mind to entrust you with the entries in the ledger in future. This was always my dear wife’s province, you understand.”
Jennet had thought as much. The difference between the meticulous early entries and the recent scrawled and ink-blotched attempts was marked.
The day swung into action with the arrival of a customer, and Jennet moved to the stillroom.
She was assembling her bowls and ladles together when she was hailed.
“Jennet, the gentleman requests some attar of rose for his lady wife. Do we have any left?”
Jennet scanned the shelf.
“One only.”
There would be no more until after this season’s flowering.
Jennet took the pretty bottle of flower water through to the customer, a middle-aged man in velvets and a feathered hat.
He was a stranger to the town and accepted the item with brisk courtesy.
Gryce was all smiles.
“You are fortunate, sir. Attar of rose is much sought after. It is one of my rarer perfumes.”
He charged the customer twice the normal price and went on to expound on how the essences were obtained off the ships from the Orient that put into the port of Chester.
There was not a word of truth in any of it. Jennet had made the flower water from briar roses gathered from the hedgerows.
“Is that so?” the customer said to Gryce, clearly impressed. “We are guests of Master Reynard Venables of Beam Hall.
“Our hostess, Miss Honoria, recommended you. My wife had remarked upon the perfume she wore and would have the same.”
He turned to Jennet.
“Do you have ought suitable for my daughter? Something light and fresh, as befits a young miss.”
“Lilac, sir. Or white violet. Either would meet your request,” Jennet told him.
“I would suggest the lilac, sir. More costly, but well worth it. Lilac has a subtlety all its own,” Gryce intoned gushingly.
“The lilac it is, then.”
The man produced a fat money pouch and proceeded to pay for the item, which again by far exceeded the usual rate.
Jennet tried to conceal her disdain and returned to the stillroom.
Gryce’s physic knowledge was excellent, but his practice only served to strengthen her resolve that when she had a business of her own it would be managed honestly.
Belatedly, Jennet wondered if the customer’s daughter was a beauty and what Anthony made of it.
There was nothing to be done. When two persons lived worlds apart these drawbacks were inevitable.
Yet, what if Anthony truly did love her?
What if he were to profess his feelings candidly, without that teasing quality that was so characteristic of him?
Would he take her as his wife despite her lowly status?