Free The Alchemist's Daughter by Mary Lawrence Page A

Pandy pulled her shawl up over her exposed shoulders, for her bodice exposed more skin than was sensible given the chill in the air.
    “Aws, shuts your flap,” said Kara. “Just because he didn’t show don’t mean nothin’s. He may still be away.”
    “Oh, I bet he knows,” said Pandy. “Anyways, we’ll soon see what his true feelings are.”
    “Enough of you twos,” said Mrs. Beldam. “Ye thinks this is about you?” She shot them a harsh look, then settled her eyes back on the lone rascal standing apart from the others. He was solid and blocky in build, filthy with dried clay on his face and clothes. Perhaps a muckraker, he had the appearance of one.
    Bianca watched as Mrs. Beldam hastily crossed herself and pushed past the two girls. She pursued the young man, who had turned and sauntered off.
    “I’m sorry about last night,” said John, offering to bridge the silent gulf that had grown between him and Bianca.
    Bianca shrugged. “No matter,” she mumbled. She was more concerned with watching Mrs. Beldam. The matron caught the young man’s arm, but they were enough out of earshot that Bianca could not hear what was being said. Pandy and Kara still quarreled, and if she was to hear what concerned the owner of Barke House, she would have to abandon John and his efforts to make amends. Without another word to John, she drifted away and ranged closer.
    “I’m trying to apologize,” said John, following after her. “You can at least acknowledge I’m here, couldn’t you?” His voice rose in frustration, and Bianca shushed him harshly. She turned back to try to hear what the pair were saying.
    John followed her gaze to a young rogue, rugged and coarse in looks but possessing a certain allure for women who liked dangerous men. Not exactly the kind of fellow who’d typically attract Bianca’s eye, he thought, but then, he could never be sure.
    “I get the feeling you don’t care if I was here or not. You would be just as happy if I left you alone!”
    Bianca focused on Mrs. Beldam and tried to read her lips. The rogue shook his head in response.
    “I’m talking to you,” John insisted.
    “John, can’t you keep quiet just this once?” Bianca hissed. She was trying to appear nonchalant, but it didn’t matter to Mrs. Beldam and the young man. Mrs. Beldam looked to be harshly questioning him about something to which he claimed ignorance.
    “If it’s silence you want from me, I’ll give you plenty!” John stalked off, brushing past the conspicuous pair, who looked up, saw Bianca watching them, then broke away from each other.
    Bianca sighed in exasperation. John had a flair for the dramatic, probably learned from years observing the clientele at the Tern’s Tempest. Drink and turmoil made terrible bedfellows, but it was the norm for a young man who’d known no family but the characters who frequented the seedy boozing ken. Bianca watched him march out of the cemetery. He didn’t even glance back at her. She’d smooth over his wounded feelings and set them right, but first, she had more pressing matters.
    Bianca’s aggravation was replaced by something even more dismal, and it came in the form of Constable Patch strolling through the gate. Bianca fell in behind Pandy and Kara, hoping she could slip by without his notice. But apparently the constable had arrived with the sole intent of finding her.
    “Bianca Goddard. I’ve been looking for ye.” Constable Patch stepped in front of her, practically twitching with delight at having caught her trying to sneak out. “I see ye have successfully made your friend to rest.” Patch nodded at the sexton leaning against a heap of dirt and swigging from a flask.
    Bianca kept her silence, knowing her mockery could end in worse than what she already feared.
    “The coroner has ruled Jolyn Carmichael’s death a poisoning, and since the deceased expired in your presence, ye is the likely culprit. I must, with the power vested in me by the just and