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

shrugged. “Perhaps. Who knows? I have certainly met no one to match Horatio as yet.”
    “How long ago did your husband die?” John asked.
    “Eighteen months. It was very sudden. Admittedly he was older than I, but none the less it was unexpected.”
    “What happened?”
    “He must have eaten something that disagreed with him, or so the doctor thought. He had violent stomach pains, sickness and laxes, and was dead by morning. Poor dear soul. It was considered that the mushrooms he consumed were poisonous. I had none because I have never been fond of them.”
    The Apothecary nodded. “One can’t be too careful with fungi. You really must be able to differentiate between the toxic and the harmless.”
    Millicent spoke up. “When I was a girl - such a very long time ago - “ She smiled a little archly. “We used to go picking in the woods. That was in the days before Father lost his fortune. Anyway, Mama would carefully examine everything we brought back. For poison, you see. She was most particular.”
    “Very wise,” said John.
    Jocasta exhaled her breath in a bitter sound. “Poor Horatio. I still can’t think how it happened. Do you remember, Millie, how the cook took all the blame and left our employment hurriedly. But really it was misadventure.”
    The conversation was getting more sombre by the minute and tears from both women seemed imminent. The Apothecary frantically wondered how he could possibly lighten the situation but was saved by a wild gurgling scream from the upper floor. All three looked at one another.
    “Evalina,” said Jocasta, and, “I’ll deal with her,” said John, snatching his bag and sprinting up the stairs before the other two could even get a start. On the edge of anger, he entered the room of Aidan Fenchurch’s eldest unmarried daughter.
    “How dare you!” she expostulated.
    “More to the point, have you no respect?” he answered furiously.
    She hadn’t expected that and gaped, not an attractive sight from a woman who had spent the last thirty-six hours in bed without attending to her toilette.
    “You should be ashamed,” John thundered. “With your father lying in the mortuary, you are now the head of the family. And what do you do? Lie slummocky in your sheets, wailing like a banshee and resembling a gorgon. You have the worst end of the staff, Madam. Rise up, wash, dress, and show a little dignity. Why, a child of twelve would behave in a more seemly manner than you can muster. Shame on you.”
    She glowered from beneath the hanging curtains of her hair. “Upstart, rogue. What are you doing in this house?”
    “I come about your late father’s business,” he answered magnificently, and swept out.
    At the bottom of the stairs Jocasta and Millicent waited anxiously.
    “How is she?” asked the older woman.
    “Play acting,” said John. “I shall definitely barb her drink for her. Then you will get some peace. But no mercy, mind.” He fixed the governess with a look. “I know you were called upon to be her mother, but do not give way. If she were smaller, she should be spanked. I am afraid. Miss Millicent, that in these dire circumstances you must be cruel to be kind. And now, ladies, with that advice I take my leave.”
    He bowed, then remembered the information that Sir John Fielding had wished him to obtain, rather spoiling his exit.
    “By the way, do either of you know the whereabouts of Mrs. Bussell, Mr. Fenchurch’s friend? She ordered some pills in my shop but forgot to leave her address.”
    Was it his imagination or did a silent ripple run between the two of them?
    “Mrs. Bussell lives in Grosvenor Square,” said Jocasta. “Number six, I believe.”
    “A very seemly address.”
    “Indeed it is. But then, of course, her husband is very, very rich so what else would you expect.”

    “Aha,” said Sir John Fielding. “It seems the Shadow lives most comfortably.”
    “So it would appear.”
    The Magistrate sighed. “I wonder at these husbands,