Free Death at Apothecaries' Hall by Deryn Lake Page A

her career and found that the pull of the theatre was stronger than that of being a wife. I have always vowed never to do the same. When I marry I want it to last for ever.’ She gave John an unfathomable look.
    â€˜But for God’s sake, Coralie,’ he said, suddenly annoyed, ‘how much longer do you expect me to wait?’
    â€˜I cannot understand your hurry.’
    The Apothecary could feel himself growing exasperated. ‘I am not
in
a hurry, yet I have the urge to live with you all the time. To have you in my bed, in a home that belongs to us both. Coralie, be fair. Look at the situation from my point of view.’
    Just for a moment her eyes seemed sad and wistful. ‘John, I do try, but my sister’s experience has left its mark on me. Neither she nor her husband George are truly happy.’
    Thinking about the ecstatic cries coming from the first floor window the other night, John would have argued that Kitty had sounded very happy with her lover, whoever he might be.
    â€˜â€¦ and I do not want to repeat her mistakes. Give me another five years and I am sure I will have explored all the major theatrical roles and finally be content.’
    â€˜Five years is a long time. I shall be over thirty and you will be staring it in the face. Surely that is leaving things a little late.’
    â€˜For what?’
    The Apothecary gave an exasperated sigh. ‘What do you think? Childbearing of course. You know very well that I want to have children.’
    â€˜Do you look upon me merely as a brood mare?’
    It was too much. She had gone too far. Turning a furious face in Coralie’s direction, John leapt out of bed and began to pull on his breeches. ‘This relationship is clearly going nowhere. You ask if I see you as a brood mare. How do you regard me, then? As a stallion?’ he demanded as he wrestled with his buttons.
    His mistress did not answer, looking aloof and remaining in the bed with her back averted.
    â€˜Coralie,’ said the Apothecary pleadingly, for he loved her and did not want bad feeling between them.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Be reasonable. I care for you deeply. I cannot bear it when we quarrel.’
    She turned over, her black hair tumbling over the whiteness of the pillow. In the candlelight he could see that she was smiling. ‘I thought I was being reasonable.’
    â€˜Well think again, sweetheart. All I want is to marry you while we’re still young enough to enjoy it.’
    Her smile deepened. ‘Very well, I shall compromise. I shall shorten the five years to three.’
    John shook his head. ‘You’re a witch of the wood,’ he said, and sighed. Then he kissed her, though deep in his heart he knew that something sensitive and fine had been wounded irrevocably.
    He was weak where she was concerned, John knew it. Despite his earlier anger he spent the night in Coralie’s bed and was forced to rise into a bleak November dawning in order to visit his shop before setting off for Apothecaries’ Hall.
    More than slightly annoyed with himself, John entered his premises in Shug Lane at eight in the morning to find that the reliable Nicholas was there before him, his pale face smiling as he whisked off the covers and generally tidied up.
    It was reassuring to stand for a moment, gazing round all the wonderful jars and matrasses that were part of his stock in trade. Breathing a sigh of contentment, John looked at his apprentice. ‘Any news?’
    â€˜A footman came round bearing a letter from the Comtesse de Vignolles. I took the liberty of bringing it with me, not certain of your movements as I was.’ Nicholas grinned, perfectly well aware where his Master had spent the night.
    The Apothecary made an attempt at looking severe which failed rather dismally. ‘Very kind of you I’m sure.’
    â€˜Not at all, Master. I always consider your welfare.’
    They both burst out laughing, unusually close in