Page 31 of The Cornish Inheritance

Chapter Fourteen

Caroline remembered, just in time, to go into the small haberdashery and choose some pretty ribbons to augment the gown she intended to wear to the coming ball. If Mrs. Treloar didn’t change her mind and still allowed her to go. She also bought some to give to Patience in return for her help with dressing in the mornings. Then she and Yves found New Street and the little apothecary’s shop. While Yves gazed around at the jars and bottles in wonder, Caroline bought a large bottle of herb tonic which the apothecary allowed her to sniff first and assured her contained not a drop of opium and was merely intended to improve the health of the person who took it. Perfect.

“What’s that for?” Yves asked as they headed back to the Star to retrieve Blossom and the pony cart.

Caroline glanced round at the people on the street, any of whom might be an acquaintance of Mrs. Treloar or the house servants. “I’ll explain on our way home. Best not to discuss it here.” She stowed the cumbersome bottle in the capacious bag she’d had the foresight to bring.

The boy at the Star harnessed Blossom up for them and received a silver sixpence for his trouble, which went a long way to cheering him up. Probably whatever wages the owner of the Star paid for his services went straight to his father, and he saw none of it. He tipped his jaunty tricorn hat to Caroline as she and Yves climbed back into the little cart, and Yves gave him a cheery wave, one small boy to another.

Once they left the outskirts of Penzance behind and had crossed back over the stony ford, Yves returned to his earlier question, blue eyes brimming with curiosity. “Why didn’t you want to tell me about your medicine when we were on the street?” Not a child to miss a trick.

Caroline clicked to Blossom to hurry her trot a little, mindful that time was getting on, and turned to regard her charge. “Because we might have been overheard.”

He frowned and fell silent for a moment or two, clearly thinking hard. “Who did you fear might overhear us?”

Pursing her lips, Caroline guided Blossom and the cart around a particularly dangerous looking pothole. “Anyone who might know someone at Roskilly.”

Yves shifted in his seat. “Why would that be bad?” But he didn’t sound shocked. Had he picked up on the undercurrent there, or had Miss Hawkins’s fears transmitted to him at some point?

However, Caroline couldn’t risk sharing her thoughts with him. She’d have to be circumspect in her reply. “I don’t want anyone to know I’ve bought this medicine. Although it’s not medicine in truth. It’s just extracts of harmless plants and some sugar water that might or might not make you a little healthier. Although I doubt it very much. But it won’t do you any harm, which is what’s most important.”

He was not going to let this go. “For me? Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

Caroline bit her lip. She’d have to tell him. “You know that medicine Bridget gave you last night?”

“Yes. It was horrible. I didn’t like it. She poured it into a glass, and I had to drink it all down, she said. Or she was going to hold my nose and make me.”

“Well, that was what made you so very sleepy this morning.”

“Was it? I had a horrible headache too, but it’s gone now. Bridget gave it to me before, when Miss Hawkins was still my governess. Then she stopped.”

“I’m not surprised you had a headache.” The road was now running past St Michael’s Mount, where a stony causeway was just being revealed by the falling tide. “I don’t think you need that medicine, do you?”

He frowned. “Don’t I? Bridget said the doctor left it for me because I have nightmares. To help me sleep.”

“Nightmares? I didn’t know. Do you?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. Not very often. Hester used to come in and cuddle me when I had one, until I went back to sleep again. Hester was nice. Much nicer than Bridget.” He paused. “Bridget’s horrible.”

Caroline forbore nodding, despite agreeing with him on that one. “Well, I don’t think you should be taking that nasty medicine. For a start, you weren’t awake enough this morning to learn anything in your lessons. So that’s no good. But Bridget won’t stop giving it to you, I’m sure, even if I ask her to. I won’t be able to stop her.” She patted his arm. “So, I’ve bought this new medicine to replace it with, and hopefully Bridget won’t know I’ve done it. She’ll keep on giving you this new medicine and not know the difference.”

A broad smile lit his face. “Yes please. I hope it tastes better than the other one.”

Caroline returned his smile. “I think it will, but you’ll have to pretend it tastes bad to fool Bridget, and complain about having to take it. Do you think you can do that?”

Yves nodded with enthusiasm.

“And perhaps pretend to be sleepy in the mornings when you see her? So she doesn’t get suspicious.”

Another delighted nod. “Of course I can do that. It’ll be fun.” His eyes sparkled with mischief at the idea of gulling Bridget. “She deserves to be tricked.”

*

At Roskilly, supperwas just arriving in the schoolroom, on a tray carried by Patience, as they arrived, a bit flushed and breathless from their rush up from the stableyard. But it was only a single boiled egg and bread and butter—enough for just one person.

Patience bobbed a curtsey to Caroline, eyes wide with awe. “If you please, Miss Fairfield, but Mrs. Treloar sent up word that you was to come down to dinner with the family. She says at six o’clock.”

“Unlucky you,” Yves said, sitting down at the table in front of his supper.