Page 50 of Lady Audacious
‘I have heard that it can be used to benefit ailments, if one knows what one is doing, which presumably apothecaries must.’
‘Yes.’ Odile bit her lip. ‘That’s true, but the more I excavate, the more toxic plants I find. There are foxgloves, lords-and-ladies—’
‘Not all lords and ladies are poisonous,’ he said smiling.
She sent him a mischievous smile of her own in return. ‘Well, I suppose you would defend them.’
‘Certainly I would. We are a much-maligned lot.’
‘Seriously though, Reuben. There is monkshead and hemlock here too. In fact, there are considerably more poisonous herbs than there are beneficial ones. It is most perplexing.’
‘Well, I certainly cannot explain it, but I do have news if you would like to hear it.’
‘Certainly I would. Let’s go into the kitchen. I am sure Mrs Blaine will make us some tea and you have not lived until you have tried her Shrewsbury biscuits.’
‘Well, in that case…’
He waved a hand, indicating that she should precede him along the narrow pathway that led to the house. Mrs Blaine, accustomed to working for an aristocratic gentleman in London, was unfazed when an earl walked into her kitchen.
‘Sit yourself down, my lord. I shall make tea directly.’
Odile noticed that he looked perfectly at ease sitting on a rickety stool in an old-fashioned kitchen that was warm and filled with tempting smells.
‘Miss Aspen tells me wonderful things about your biscuits,’ he said.
Mrs Blaine smiled as she pulled a fresh batch from the oven and set them to cool. ‘They will be ready in a moment or two.’
‘Mrs Blaine knows about our excursion yesterday,’ Odile told him when he finally had one of the biscuits in his hand. He devoured it in two bites, declared it to be the best he had ever tasted and took no persuading to try another. ‘You can speak freely in front of her.’
‘In that case I shall tell you both that Musgrove was overwhelmed with helpful comments at the Portcullis yesterday, most of which we have been able to disregard. He was however told by several different informants that a girl called Sadie was engaged to work here on and off as required at about the time that Smythe occupied the premises.’ He glanced at Mrs Blaine. ‘Do you know the name?’
‘That I do. Simple Sadie, if it’s the same person. Not the brightest button, but a good worker and willing enough, provided someone tells her precisely what to do.’
‘She sounds as though she would be grateful for the work and wouldn’t gossip about what she saw,’ Reuben remarked, sharing a speculative glance with Odile.
‘She likely wouldn’t understand what she saw, or remember it even if she did,’ Mrs Blaine said. ‘Like I say, she’d be told what to do and she’d do it and her curiosity wouldn’t get the better of her. She lives in a world of her own, that one.’
Odile nodded, feeling some affinity with the girl, albeit for different reasons. Odile was far from simple, but she did know all about loneliness and isolation brought about by being different. ‘Does Sadie still live in the village?’ she asked.
‘With her ma, just behind the smithy. I haven’t seen her for a while, mind. Her ma keeps bees and runs a stall in the market where she sells her honey, so perhaps Sadie helps her with that.’
‘Is there any point in tracking her down if she’s unlikely to be able to tell us anything?’ Odile asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of her tone.
‘We shan’t know unless we ask,’ Reuben replied briskly, brushing biscuit crumbs from his fingers. ‘The market is held every day in the village square, so now would be as good a time as any.’
Odile glanced down at her lads’ attire, which looked grimy from the time she’d spent in the garden. ‘Give me five minutes,’ she said, scurrying from the room.
She ran up the stairs and extracted her second gown from the armoire—the bright red checks. It was the only one she possessed other than the green stripes she had worn the previous day. She stripped down to her chemise and washed her hands and face in the cold water she had used that morning and which Doris had not yet thrown away. She stepped into petticoats and the gown and laced it up as well as she could manage without help. She tutted at the state of her hair, pulled at her scalp as she vigorously brushed out the tangles and tied it up with a ribbon. She plonked her only bonnet on her head and tied it beneath her chin.
‘I really don’t understand why the elegant Miss Farquhar looks upon me as a threat,’ she told her unremarkable reflection, thinking her freckles were even more pronounced than usual thanks to the amount of time she had spent bonnetless in the garden.
She made her way downstairs, where Reuben was waiting for her. Doris had found dusting to do in the hallway and watched them with undisguised interest.
‘You were indeed only five minutes,’ he said. ‘Remarkable.’
‘One of the advantages of not being handsome,’ she replied. ‘All the preparation time in the world would make little difference to the result.’
‘Fishing for compliments?’ he asked, raising a challenging brow.
