The Perfect Poison by Amanda Quick Read Free Book Online Page A

properties of plants and herbs. I inherited her fascination with the subject. After she died, I continued to accompany my father on his plant-hunting expeditions. The specimen that captured Dr. Knox’s attention was a very unique fern that I discovered in the course of our last journey to the Amazon. I called it Ameliopteris amazonensis after my mother. Her name was Amelia.”
    “You discovered this fern?”
    “Not exactly. The people of a small tribe who live in that part of the world deserve that credit. But after I returned from the expedition I could find no reference to it in any books or papers. This library, I assure you, is very extensive.”
    Caleb examined the crammed shelves with a considering expression. “I can see that.”
    “A healer in the tribe showed the fern to me and explained its properties. She called it by the name her people had given it, which translates roughly as Secret Eye.”
    “How is the fern used?”
    “Well, the tribe employs it in certain religious ceremonies. But I doubt very much that Dr. Knox is a religious man, let alone that he observes sacred rites that are practiced by only a small group of people who live in a very remote village in South America. No, Mr. Jones, he used my fern to somehow make the poison act more quickly and to mask the taste and smell.”
    “Do you know what effect the fern has when it is used in the villagers’ ceremonies?” Caleb asked.
    The question surprised her. Most people would have dismissed out of hand the beliefs of a people who lived in a far-off land.
    “The tribe’s healer claimed that a tisane made from the fern could open what her people refer to as an individual’s secret eye. I’m certain the villagers believe that is what happens when one drinks the brew but that is the thing with religion, is it not? Belief is everything.”
    “Do you have any notion of what the healer meant by opening the secret eye?”
    His intense, unexpected interest in the properties of the fern itself, rather than the theft, was starting to concern her. Some of the rumors she had heard about Caleb Jones implied that he might be something other than merely eccentric.
    It was too late to show him the door, she thought. She had already told him her secret. In any event it was not as if she could replace him. There were a great many people in London who claimed to possess psychical talents. Indeed, the paranormal was all the rage. But as every sensible person within the Arcane Society knew, the vast majority of such practitioners were frauds and charlatans. She desperately needed Caleb Jones’s talents.
    “I do not pretend to be an expert on the healer’s religious beliefs,” she said carefully. “But according to her, secret eye was the term the villagers employed to refer to what you and I would call an individual’s dream state.”
    A great and alarming stillness came over Caleb Jones.
    “Son of a bitch,” he said, his voice chillingly soft. “Basil Hulsey.”
    She gave him a disapproving glare. “More ungentlemanly language, Mr. Jones? Really, do you find it so astonishing that there are those outside England who have an understanding of the paranormal? It is not as though we are the only ones who possess a psychical side to our natures.”
    She broke off abruptly because Caleb had come up out of his chair with the force of a volcano erupting. He crossed to the sofa, hauled her to her feet and into his arms.
    “Miss Bromley, you cannot know how helpful you have been. I vow, I could kiss you in gratitude.”
    She was so stunned that she could not even utter a ladylike protest. Something resembling a startled little squeak came from between her lips and the next thing she knew, his mouth was covering hers and hot energy began to flare in the atmosphere.
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    She understood intuitively that the kiss was meant to be a fast, meaningless gesture brought on by the wholly inexplicable excitement that appeared to have overcome the obviously well-controlled Mr.