Chapter Twenty-Six #2
“Not enough,” The Lady huffed, then her words turned sweet again. “You could learn how to make potions, find a girl who will learn beside you and can sell things for a pretty penny.”
“Why don’t you have one now?”
“Because she will not train them. She finds them too stupid.” There was anger in The Lady’s voice.
“I have just escaped one stupid son-in-law. I will not trade him for stupid apprentices,” Madame Illie said. Then she trained her attention back on Janelle. “I have heard much of Betty Gill. Nothing of you.”
“That will take some explaining,” Janelle said as she settled onto the bench beside the older woman. “Will you listen?”
“I will,” the woman answered. And so began the most casual of conversations, as if over a pot of tea.
Janelle hadn’t spent so pleasant at time since she’d been back in Mrs. Sundy’s home on a cold winter evening.
Janelle told stories of what she’d done and answered when Madame Illie asked about her recipes, her mixtures, and her choices in one tale or another.
She was being tested, but in this, she had no fear.
She knew what she was about, and so too did Madame Illie.
Before long, they were discussing ingredient mixtures, the benefits of boiling against a low simmer, and the herbs that make the worst medicines taste less vile.
Janelle could have sat there for hours, but her body ached and The Lady grew irritable.
Indeed, Janelle could not believe the woman had been patient enough to wait for an hour, much less close to three.
But in this she erred. It appeared “The Lady” had the patience of a saint when she was baiting the hook.
Madame Illie had just invited Janelle to discuss the books and her best recipes when The Lady pounced.
She was reclining negligently against the wall, her gaze languid as she sipped from a glass of wine she’d found somewhere.
But when Madame Illie rose, so did The Lady.
She smiled, straightened, then neatly blocked the path to the stillroom.
“Betty Gill could make a good life here. She could train others to do as she does. She could learn and help countless women in London. There’s room here to grow. It only takes strong arms and a willing heart.”
“How many free rooms after you, me, and Madame Illie?”
The lady didn’t answer, but Madame did. “Two.”
“Who works the gardens? Who minds the till?”
“Hire whomever you like.”
And pay for it from her till, no doubt. “What is your part in this?” she asked The Lady.
“My usual fee.”
Madame Ilie answered. “Free potions—”
“Ones that work,” the lady groused.
Madame Illie shrugged. “They work as they are meant to. I cannot help it if you want the Fountain of Youth.”
“And half the profits,” The Lady added. “It’s that or rent. I am being extraordinarily generous.”
That might be true. Janelle didn’t know anything about the costs of living in London. But she did know potential. She knew there was a great deal that she could do here. More than ever before.
“What is the price?” she said, her voice hard.
“I have already told you,” the lady answered.
“No, you haven’t.” She returned to her first question. “What do you want?”
The woman folded her arms across her chest. “Never speak again to my son.”
Janelle threw up her hands. “Who is your son?”
The woman’s mouth compressed tight, but she still forced out the words as if she were spitting poison. “Major Gabriel Vance.”
The words hit Janelle like a blow. She should have expected it. An offer like this—coming out of the blue—had to be tied to him somehow. But she hadn’t expected it to be at the cost of her relationship with him.
“So you are Triana Sabate,” she said. Former mistress to the Duke of Torbay, courtesan, demi-rep, and all sorts of scandalous labels, wrapped up in a beautiful package.
Janelle cared nothing for the wrapping, but clearly the woman did, even to the point of naming this place she owned My Lady’s Apothecary.
“Why would you want me to stay away from your son? I am no threat to him.”
“He has no need to poke his nose into my business,” she stated. Then she waved at the entire building and courtyard garden. “This is my business.”
One of them at least. Janelle rocked back on her heels, her gaze taking in the environment, seeing what existed now and what she could do with it.
Still, she kept her voice hard as she spoke.
“I am to marry Lord Benedict. The major is his primary secretary, his aide-de-camp, and I don’t know what else.
I will see Major Vance whenever my husband deems it appropriate. ”
“Cry off. Leave your horrible father. Come here. Live and study here.” The woman’s expression turned almost ecstatic. “Serve the people who need you and forget the men who abuse you.”
One week ago, she would have said yes without hesitation.
She knew some of the worst that men could do.
Why should she help them when they thwarted her at every turn?
But Lord Benedict sought to do good in this world.
Gabriel, too, since he was working night and day to find her a location just like this.
“Sell this to me,” she said. “Let me make it what it should be.
“Why would I?” the lady scoffed. “This is my retirement. I don’t want to go off to Italy or some foreign clime. This is my home when I no longer care to please a man.”
When she couldn’t entice a man to support her. Still, it wasn’t a bad choice. Indeed, it was forward thinking of her to plan for it. Janelle stepped around the garden, picking her way to the opposite side building, seeing the small gate that led out to…was that the Rose Garden?
“How much of this area do you own?”
The lady grinned. “More every day.”
So she was one to acquire, not sell. Janelle turned back to her.
“I will work with Madame Illie. I will manage the shop and see to the hiring of workers.” It shouldn’t be much different than managing a household, or so she hoped.
“But you will not dictate to me the details of my marriage.” She shrugged.
“And why would you want to? I would think your son would want to know that you have attended to your future.”
“My son prays for the day I die!” she abruptly bellowed. It was a dramatic statement, but one that did not find its mark in either Janelle or Madame Illie.
The old lady dropped back onto the bench with a sigh. Apparently, this was a tirade she was used to. And Janelle was well used to the explosions of overwrought men and women. She took them in stride, merely arching her brow at the courtesan.
“Do you think I don’t know?” Triana continued, stepping closer and closer as if stalking Janelle. “I see the way he sneers at me. I know what he thinks of me and my business. He only comes around when he needs something from me. I should have smothered him the day he was born.”
That was quite a lot of venom from a mother to her child. Poor Gabe. How did he stand it? “What have I to do with that?”
“You cannot be part of them if you want part of this. I have straddled that line for years, and I tell you, it kills your heart and your mind. This is where we thrive, away from their greedy fingers and casual brutality. This place is for us. Let the world of men burn.”
She meant this place was for her, free of all the men she had used and abused. But also free of their crimes.
Janelle acknowledged the appeal. How many times had she wanted a place just like this, free of her father and the restraints he put upon her?
Her body still ached from his beating. But she couldn’t lump Lord Benedict or Gabriel in their mix.
Nor could she abandon them. Her desire to continue with her marriage was so that she could be with Gabriel, not leave him entirely.
So she turned and pressed a kiss to Madame Illie’s hands. “I hope I can see you again. I would very much like to speak more with you. And the duchess.”
The lady patted her cheek and smiled. She didn’t speak. They both knew Triana ordered the details of her life.
“You are giving this up?” Triana gasped. “Everything you dreamed, everything you’ve ever wanted?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “Because it’s not quite everything.
” And that was a surprise. She would not give up love, even at the price of her dreams. Never would she have expected that.
She had spent so long dreaming of a location such as this, but one threat to Gabriel and she walked away with her head held high.
Now she had to see if Gabriel would risk it all for her.