The Apothecary’s Apprentice 41


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

“This is in confidence, you understand.

“It seems to me that the reformist activity at your premises is best reported to the Guild of Grocers, Spicers and Pepperers.

“Let them deal with it as they think fit.”

Gryce almost choked on his drink.

“Sir, you would risk my good name? A whole life’s dedicated work to the people of the town would be in jeopardy at the faintest hint –”

“Use your wits, man. I shall protect you from all blame. ’Tis Parry and his lass I want removed from the scene.”

Gryce’s mind was in turmoil.

“Sir, I have had thoughts on this myself and have a scheme that could be beneficial to us, without stirring the wrath of those workers in your mine sympathetic to Parry’s cause.”

“Go on.”

“With regret, I must keep my own counsel for the time being.

“Wilt trust me, sir? Wilt give me time to address the problem?

“The Tuesday meetings stand a chance of being ended with immediate effect. I might need longer to make the matter of Parry’s involvement permanent.”

Venables considered this, then shrugged.

“Take as long as you will. But keep me informed.”

“I shall be pleased to do so,” Gryce replied.


Jennet faced the master in the doorway of the front parlour, the flask of cough linctus in her hand.

“This is the remedy you requested, sir.”

“Excellent. Come in and close the door behind you.

“Put the linctus on the table and let us be comfortable,” Gryce ordered.

“Take that chair opposite mine at the fireside. ’Twas my dear late wife’s choice.”

Alarm frisked through Jennet so intensely she found it hard to breathe.

She knew what was coming. This was the moment she had been dreading.

She went to sit in the chair, holding herself very upright, hands folded demurely on her lap.

Gryce smiled.

“Jennet, you must know by now how I feel about you. I wish to make you the second Mistress Gryce.

“It has come to my knowledge that certain negotiations are taking place under my roof that are not in the best interest to your family’s welfare.

“Wed me, and your family’s future here is secured, though there must be no more clandestine meddling when my back is turned.

“No doubt you understand me.”

He paused.

“What is your answer?

“As mistress here you will have a fine house to manage and a respected position in the apothecary business. That is not to be sniffed at.”

Jennet swallowed hard.

“I am honoured by your request.” She took a steadying breath and ploughed on. “May I have time to consider?”

“You are not still hankering after a business of your own?

“Pipe dreams, my dear. Romantic notions of an inexperienced maid.”

Stubborn colour rushed to Jennet’s cheeks.

Before she could respond, the master spoke again.

“Think what you will gain here and what you would stand to lose, since certain matters might be reported to the guild that governs the apothecary trade.”

That would put an end to all her hopes and dreams!

Jennet found it hard to follow the master’s pompous turn of phrase, but the meaning was clear enough.

Agree to wed him or they would all suffer the consequences.

“Think on it, Jennet, but don’t be too long about it. Now, take that flask of linctus to Venables House and hurry back.

“There is work building up in the stillroom that must be attended to,” he added.

Besieged by doubt and insecurity, Jennet retrieved the medicine from the table, dipped her master a curtsey and swept out of the room.

To be continued…