Sorry about the delay! I got derailed on this one, but I'm back and the muse has got me!
Chapter 3
Kitty and Lydia huddled together in a corner of Lydia's parlor over a battered herbology tome, its gilt worn by time. They'd been at it for half an hour, Kitty's finger under the faded lettering. The images were clear, beautifully drawn, with enough color remaining to point out the plants they recognized at least. Most importantly, though, was the list of each plant's uses and dangers upon touching, burning, and ingestion.
Beneath the floral embroidery Kitty had once admired, Lydia's hands trembled, creasing the aged paper. A faint whiff of lavender wafted up, jarring against the sour stench of stale tobacco clinging to every surface.
"Belladonna," Lydia murmured as Kitty flipped to the next page. "Is it also not called Deadly Nightshade?"
That had been in one of Elizabeth's gothic tales.
Kitty read through the uses and dangers, the latter printed with heavy ink and underlined at points. We will only need a few berries. Two to five."
"Five then," Lydia said. "We cannot expect even my husband to down the whole decanter at once."
"We will go to the apothecary. It is said to help with the pain of a woman's cycle. That is enough of a reason."
"I suppose."
"Mama?" Kitty looked to the floor where Lydia's two girls were playing with small painted blocks. Amelia was the oldest and had built a small tower while the youngest, Eugenia, merely stacked them in piles.
"Yes, my darling?" Lydia asked, her voice taking on the sweet singsong of mothers addressing their children.
"Is it a scary story?"
Lydia pressed her lips together, breathing out through her nose.
"It is," Kitty interjected. "A scary story for adults. You needn't worry about it."
"Is it about angry Papa?"
Kitty's stomach twisted, and Lydia visibly stiffened. "No! Why would you ask such a thing?"
"Angry Papa hit you, and me and 'Genia were scared.
"It was an accident," Lydia said, her gaze flitting to the door as though afraid her furious husband would come stomping through, vengeance in his clenched fists.
"You cried," Amelia said.
Lydia looked down at her hands, swallowing hard.
Kitty said, "Amelia, sweetheart, what are you building? A house?"
"A castle," she said, smiling. "Big castle with big spiky walls."
Kitty had little doubt what the spiky walls were for, and it broke her heart. These sweet girls deserved better than a life of constant fear, of tiptoeing around the mercurial rages of their father. They deserved the security and joy Kitty took for granted in her own childhood before Lydia's disastrous marriage.
Glancing back at Lydia, she met her sister's gaze and pointed to the book. To the berries. "It is the only way," she whispered. "They already see too much."
For a moment, Lydia seemed to waver on the precipice. Then, almost imperceptibly, she gave a solemn nod. Her eyes shone with a mixture of fear and grim determination, a flicker of the old zest for life temporarily banishing the defeat etched into her features.
As Kitty's fingers caressed the poisonous illustration, she felt the weight of their choice settle like a leaden shroud. But it was a burden she would bear to ensure Lydia's freedom, to give her sister's sweet girls the life they deserved.
x***x
Spotting the herbalist's shop, Lydia leaned in close to Mrs. Gardiner, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Aunt, might you watch the girls for a moment? I have a rather delicate matter to attend to." She lifted her chin towards the shop.
Mrs. Gardiner's gaze followed Lydia's movement, understanding softening her features as she drew Eugenia and Amelia to her side. "Of course, my dear. Come, girls," she said, her tone warm and soothing, "shall we see if we can spot any butterflies among the flowers?" The sweet perfume of lavender and the sharp, earthy scent of rosemary enveloped them as they walked past a stand of flowering plants.
It upset Kitty to lie to her aunt, but there was no other choice. Her heart raced as she and Lydia ventured into the bustling market square, a scrap of foolscap with the plant's name and description clutched in her hand. The cacophony of hawkers' cries and the pungent aroma of spices assaulted her senses.
As they approached the herbalist's shop, Lydia leaned in once again. "What if we're discovered?"
"It is common for a lady to seek relief for her courses," Kitty replied firmly. "We have an excuse, should one be necessary. Fear not, my dearest. I will see that our plan succeeds."
Lydia gave a shaky nod, and the pair ducked into the dim interior. Kitty's nose wrinkled at the earthy scent of dried plants and roots. The array of jars and bundles was dizzying, each one promising a different remedy or curse. The old woman behind the counter regarded them with shrewd, knowing eyes, and Kitty fought the urge to flee. "What can I do for you ladies today?" she croaked, her voice like rustling leaves.
Kitty's heart pounded as she extended the scrap of foolscap, the ink smudged from her sweaty fingers.
Lydia said, "My dear sister suffers terribly from her courses. We were hoping to make a poultice to relieve her suffering."
The old woman took the foolscap, and squinting, scrutinized it. After a long moment, she let out a low chuckle. "Deadly Nightshade. This is a most curious request, indeed."
Kitty swallowed hard. "Her apothecary suggested it."
"But he did not have any," Lydia added.
"I see," the old woman replied, tapping a gnarled finger against her chin. "Well, I do not normally offer this for sale, but I reckon I could spare a few berries. Perhaps five. But you will need to be very careful. You must take care not to ingest it. A single berry will make a person very ill, and more will prove deadly. Do you understand?"
Kitty and Lydia nodded. "Of course, madam."
Kitty's knees nearly buckled with relief as the old woman reached beneath the counter and withdrew a small glass jar filled with a handful of shiny red berries. She handed it to Lydia, her eyes glittering with an unsettling knowingness. " Be very careful, ladies. One berry. No more, unless you mean to kill."
The bell jingled overhead as they exited the shop, their hands clasped tightly together. Lydia clutched the precious jar to her chest, her gaze locked on the innocent-looking fruit within. A chill settled in the pit of Kitty's belly as she recalled the old woman's warning. No more than a single berry unless you mean to kill.
Had the herbalist guessed their true intentions?
Kitty banished that thought. If the herbalist had suspected, she surely would not have sold them the berries at all.
THANK YOU FOR READING! I will have another chapter up tomorrow, just finishing editing it! This is where we see how the first attempt at murder goes...