Death in the Valley of Shadows by Deryn Lake Read Free Book Online

indeed.”
    In the drawing room into which he had first been show, Millicent awaited him. Standing in a comer, back turned, shoulders heaving, she looked like a tragic little mouse. In a great rush of sympathy the Apothecary went to her side and put his arm round her. She jumped as only a maiden lady could, and moved away. Very contrite, John bowed.
    “Madam, I did not mean to give offence. Only to offer comfort.”
    She turned to face him, all confusion, her small face working with emotion. “It is just that I am so upset, Sir. Aidan was very good to me, took me in when my father died, deeply in debt. Without my cousin I tremble to think what my future would have been. That is why his bmtal death affects me so badly. If he had ended in his bed it would have been bad enough, but to go like that, bleeding in the street…” Millicent fought nobly to control her sobs but lost the battle.
    “May I give you a soothing draught?” John asked. “I assure you that I am a recognised Apothecary and not some quack.”
    “Of course you are, I never doubted it for a moment.” She looked bewildered. “An Apothecary I mean, not a quack.” Her cheeks quivered. “Oh dear, I sound very foolish, don’t I?”
    “No,” said Jocasta, coming to join them. “You sound just like our Cousin Millicent.” She cuddled the older woman to her.
    “She was our governess, you know. She looked after us when our mother died.”
    Millicent, still clearly embarrassed, began to jabber slightly. “Of course it was most fortuitous - not dear Dorothy’s death of course, I didn’t mean that. No, it was just the timing. Papa went into debt - so very, very badly - and died in that horrible gaol just as Dorothy quitted this life. Naturally Aidan didn’t want to put his girls into the hands of a stranger and as I had been a governess to the Delameres - such a good family - he asked me if I would consider the position. I was only too happy to accept, as you can guess, Mr. Rawlings.”
    “Indeed I can.”
    “I was twenty-six at the time but felt as if life had just begun when Aidan offered me a home.”
    It was a tale so similar to those he had heard from other poor relations that the whole story seemed familiar, yet the Apothecary’s sympathies were stirred. Unless endowed with great physical charms, girls without means had little chance of securing a good match and were frequently forced to act as governesses to other people’s children.
    “How kind of him,” he murmured.
    Her eyes filled with tears. “And now he has gone. Poor Aidan. Whatever his weaknesses he did not deserve such a fate.”
    John was longing to ask what those weaknesses might have been but thought it more circumspect not to do so. However, he hazarded a shrewd guess that Millicent knew of her late employer’s affair with Ariadne Bussell, a fact that she had kept secret from his daughters.
    “It was indeed a most grim end,” he said now. “But pray do not distress yourself. Allow me to give you some physick.” And he fished in his medical bag, then poured out a deep measure which he handed to her.
    Millicent sipped at it in true spinsterish fashion and John had a vision of her going through life like that, always taking little sips of everything, be it food, drink, or carnality. Never attacking anything with gusto, always careful, always cautious, a woman of small appetite in every way.
    “It’s a little sour,” she said, and gave a timid laugh.
    “Drink it down,” advised Jocasta. “It did me good. Come on, Millie.”
    Her cousin took another tiny mouthful, then put the glass down and wept again. “Oh, what are we going to do without him?” she asked mournfully.
    “If you’re worried about your future, stop now,” Jocasta said. “Papa has left Foxfire Hall to me - or so he always promised. I shall probably go to live there and, of course, you will be my companion.”
    “You will marry again,” said Millicent sombrely. “I have no doubt of that.”
    Jocasta