The tinkling of the bell as the front door opened was followed by the sound of running feet. Violet smiled and put her cup down on a small table next to the stove knowing full well her nephew had arrived, given the time of day.
“No running, Daniel,” Violet called out, as she stood and made her way toward the front of the apothecary.
The small lad of only seven summers came rushing into her arms when he spotted her and she staggered slightly from the impact. She smiled as she ran her fingers through his brown hair, still warm from being out in the sun. She loved this little boy with all her heart and couldn’t help holding back a slight giggle as he began to squirm afterbeing held too long. He stepped back before showing her a small pink flower that he had picked. “I found this for you, Auntie,” he beamed proudly handing her the delicate stem with its slightly crushed and wilted petals.
Violet ruffled his hair. “And I love you for it. Thank you, Daniel,” she declared, bending down to place a kiss on his cheek. One day, she knew he would feel like he was too old to receive such affection so she would take advantage of his youth while she could. When he stepped away, she looked up and saw her sister-in-law, whom she’d been expecting, and went behind the counter to retrieve a bottle. “This should help with your mother’s headaches, Clarissa.”
Clarissa took the bottle and placed it in the basket she held on her left arm. “Do you also have some of that tea with lavender to help calm her nerves? I’m afraid she’s not doing well lately, and I thought it might help.”
Violet nodded. “Of course, let me get you a packet.” Violet knew the contents of every drawer in her built-in shelves and didn’t even bother to read the labels. Especially for the tea she frequently sent to her brother’s mother-in-law. “This should help,” she said, handing it to Clarissa, who added it to her basket.
“Thank you, Violet. Daniel and I are headed over to the market. Shall we pick anything up for you for your dinner tonight?”
Violet shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”
Clarissa gave a light laugh. “You know it’s not a bother. Besides, we have to come by this way to return home.”
“I’ll most likely be here late into the night, so I’ll manage,” Violet declared, knowing full well that because of all the work she still needed to do, she might go to bed hungry tonight if Clarissa didn’t bring her something.
“I won’t have you starving yourself,” Clarissa warned, pointing a finger toward her. “It’s bad enough you work yourself to the bone for this place. Honestly, I know you love the apothecary your grandfathertrained you for, but at your age you should be married and having children of your own.”
And there it was… the point of which everyone in her family continued to remind her. As yet unmarried at the ripe old age of seven and twenty, she was considered so far on the shelf that any suitor in the village had long since given up on her. But now Violet’s features must have alarmed her sister-in-law because Clarissa gasped and quickly came around the counter to hug her.
“I’m sorry, Violet. I didn’t mean to be so blunt, but you can’t stop us from worrying over you,” Clarissa confessed as Daniel also came around to be included in the group hug.
“Come with us to the market, Auntie. Just for a little while,” he coaxed with a charming smile for one so young.
Violet ruffled his hair again. “You know I can’t, little one. What if someone needed something to help ease their pain and I was not here to provide it for them because I decided to selfishly close my doors early? We can’t have that now, can we?”
Daniel shuffled his feet. “I suppose not,” he replied with a pout. “You won’t forget to put the flower I gave you in water, will you?”
“Of course not, and later I will press the bloom in my favorite book so I always have a reminder that you gave it to me,” Violet answered with a smile of encouragement. “Now, off with you both. I have work to do that I have already neglected.”
Clarissa gave her a frown. “I’ll bring you back some bread and cheese. At least, you’ll have something to eat later.”
“If you insist, then I will be most grateful,” Violet answered, knowing her sister-in-law would pester her until she gave in.
“I do. We’ll see you later. Thank you again for the tea and medicine for my mother,” she said before leaving several coins on the counter for them.
“You don’t need to pay for them. Your mother is part of the family, after all,” Violet said, scooping up the coins and attempting to handthem back to Clarissa.
Clarissa ignored her as she and Dainel headed toward the door. “Yes. I do. If you keep being so generous to all these countryfolk who can’t afford your prices, you’ll go bankrupt. Honestly, Violet, you should not be so carefree with the services you provide here. Not even for family,” she scolded before opening the door. “We’ll see you in a while.”
Violet watched them pass by the front window before she returned to her work, thinking about Clarissa’s warning. The truth was, she couldn’t help but assist those who had fallen on hard times when they were in need. They paid her back in other ways by way of goods like fresh eggs or a wheel of cheese, a block of butter, or even fresh milk, and in other services like repairs to her humble house on the edge of town. Her life was just fine the way it was. The business was still thriving and she had her family by her side to support her. What did she need a husband for, anyway? She was happy just the way she was.
But then, she looked around and her eyes fell upon the flower from her nephew that still needed to be put into water. She could yet feel his exuberant hug and energy. The room felt suddenly very empty. Violet swallowed back an unexpected swell of tears and pushed away the question that rose in the back of her mind. She was fine, but was she truly happy?
Chapter Three
Gideon sat athis breakfast table, rubbing his temples, as if this simple gesture would relieve the hangover he had. The remnants of last night’s indulgence at the Lyon’s Den only amplified the headaches he continued to have. You would have thought after all these years they might subside. And yet, they continued, especially if he tried to concentrate too much on exactly how he had lost his memory in the war after being hit over the head while in battle. Now, he felt the back of his scalp and his fingertips lingered on the scar beneath his hair. It was a constant reminder of what had befallen him on the battlefield even though the scar running from forehead to cheek was more visible to others. In truth, unless he looked into a mirror or a young lady recoiled in horror with a blanched face, it was easy to forget it was even there.
When the footman pushed the curtains aside, Gideon squinted at the light beaming into the breakfast room.Bloody hell!What had made him drink so excessively with Leopold last night that he barely remembered the evening or how much he had lost at the Black Widow of Whitehall’s tables? He’d checked his purse when he’d awakened, and its empty state was a clear indication that the housewas in her favor, as if he could ever forget such a lesson. He could afford the loss from one night but if he continued his losing streak at the Lyon’s Den, that wouldn’t be the case. Perhaps he should stay away from the place for a while. White’s would be far safer!
A kitchen servant entered the breakfast room. The aroma of coffee filled the air and he inhaled deeply as if the drink would fix all that ailed him. The girl placed the tray in front of him, and he waved her off before voicing his objection to the bright light streaming into the room. “Please close the drapes, Jenny. The light hurts my eye this morning.”
The girl bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, Captain Tyler.”
Once she had closed the drapes and left him, he flipped the patch up over his right eye and began to rub his fingers along his scar. His brother Asher and his wife Patience continued to ask why he wore the protection for an eye that could see perfectly well. But Gideon knew that the puckered scar over the lid was far worse than the one running down the entire right side of his face. Call it vanity, but the eyelid hadn’t healed well and was a constant reminder that he could have lost his sight.
