Deadly Affair: A Georgian Historical Mystery (Alec Halsey Crimance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

parish in the city, is trying my patience that bit too far. I don’t object to the boy using his apothecary’s skills to dispense medicines to the poor at my garden gate. I’m even prepared to defend him should questions be raised by the beadles. But exposing a youth who has barely made his mark on the world, and worse, yourself, an infirm old man, to the treacherous underworld of cutthroats, murderers and disease-ridden hags, was reckless, irresponsible and utterly foolish!”
    Plantagenet Halsey looked sheepish. “The vicar asked for m’help. As I said, the boy has a gift for healin’. It shouldn’t be wasted.”
    “I don’t disagree with what you’re trying to do but—Damn it, Uncle! There are other ways of offering help. As it happens, I was about to put a stop to such nocturnal visits when Blackwell’s death saved me the necessity.”
    “It was that snaky-eyed butler who tattled on us,” the old man muttered rhetorically. “Interfering old buzzard.”
    “Then it’s settled. You’ll take my advice and have a holiday.”
    Plantagenet Halsey eyed his nephew with loving resentment. “At Bath?” He shrugged, the fight gone out of him. “I’ll go at the end of session. Not before. I want my day in the Commons. Then you can send your old uncle to any watering-hole you damn-well please!”
     
    Tam sat hunched at his workbench, head in his hands, a finger absently wrapping itself about a carrot-colored curl. Concentration was impossible. He’d spent an hour flicking through the pages of the English pharmacopoeia, trying to decide the main ingredients for a poultice to apply to weeping ulcers of the legs. He should’ve known the answer without the need to consult his texts. After all, he had less than a sennight until his examination before the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries. But the voices across the hall disturbed his concentration.
    There went the old man’s voice again, rising above that of his nephew’s measured tone, as if by shouting him down he could win his point. Tam smiled. It wasn’t that easy. That tactic might work for the old man in the House of Commons but Lord Halsey had a way of getting what he wanted without the need to raise his voice.
    If I can’t study, then it’s best to keep occupied .
    He decided to tidy his workroom. There was plenty to do to ensure his thoughts did not wander to the death of the Reverend Blackwell. Then he would start crying again. Imagine! Turned nineteen and blubbering like a girl. What would the servants make of his red eyes?
    From the lattice-fronted cabinet he took out the specialist apparatus needed in the preparation of his growing collection of prescribed medicines. He hoped to have at least a third of the labeled bottles restocked that evening, when his valeting services were no longer required. And there were the new clippings to sort through: gathered earlier from the herb garden at the back of the kitchen. Several piles of sorted roots, tubers, stems and stalks from various plants were drying on racks by the window; some had been purchased at the Chelsea physique garden.
    Who would want to harm an old vicar? And why?
    The attending physician had diagnosed heart failure, but his lordship’s questions hinted at the possibility of foul play. An apothecary worth his fee knew any number of substances could kill man or beast and look for all the world as if death was by natural causes. But the Reverend Blackwell? A harmless old man from the poorest parish in London. It was inconceivable to Tam. Blackwell was a gentle man, a sweet and loving man who cared for the unwanted, nameless children cast on the parish by desperate mothers and faceless fathers.
    Common Plantain: Plantago major . A weed found by the roadside and in meadowland. As a poultice, fresh whole leaves were applied directly to the ulcerated leg.
    Tam smiled. Perhaps the examination wouldn’t be so bad after all?
    If time allowed he would unpack the new ceramic jars that had arrived