venture forth unattended,’ said his mother.
‘But I could attend him, Ma’am.’
‘Thank you, Mr Rawlings but I must decline your kind offer. I think a tutor would be a better kind of escort.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Tell me, Elizabeth, are you going to Lady Sidmouth’s ball?’
‘Indeed I am. Nothing could prevent me. This morning I ordered a new gown especially.’
‘As have I. The children are taking dancing lessons and Grevil and Dorinda have received personal invitations.’
‘Then I will have the pleasure of inviting your daughter to dance,’ said John, his tone exceptionally warm.
‘We shall have to see about that,’ answered Lady Sedgewick, giving him a dark and extremely reproving look.
Going home in the carriage afterwards, Elizabeth said, ‘Why did you behave so badly?’
‘Because they were all giggling and laughing, making snide jokes about me fathering your child.’
‘Oh come now, what an infantile attitude. You’re a poor creature if you cannot take a jest made at your expense.’
John turned his head to look at her. ‘How can you be so insensitive? I love you and I love the forthcoming baby. I do not find it a fitting subject for tomfoolery.’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘No, you are right. It is a serious matter.’ She fixed him with a gaze that held various emotions in its depths. ‘We love each other, you and I, and yet we can never be together.’
John knew that he should argue, that he should protest, but suddenly he felt at the end of that particular road. He sighed.
‘You’re correct, Elizabeth. We are too different. Tomorrow I shall leave you.’
‘I see,’ she answered stiffly. ‘And do you intend to come back?’
‘If you wish me to.’
‘Of course I wish it. John, do not tease me. I am vulnerable at the moment.’
‘I could never depart unless you wanted me to,’ he answered solemnly, a feeling of great gloom descending on him.
‘I think a few days apart would do neither of us any harm. But promise me to return in time for Lady Sidmouth’s ball.’
‘I promise,’ the Apothecary answered solemnly, and stared out of the window at the wild countryside just beginning to fade into darkness.
Eleven
In contrast to the day he had left London for Devon, this morning was fine and fair. The words ‘Golden October’ ran through the Apothecary’s mind as he climbed aboard the London-bound stagecoach in company with a thin nervous lady whom he helped into her seat. Somewhat to his surprise he saw that sitting directly opposite him was Lucinda Silverwood. He half rose and bowed to her.
‘Good day, Madam. How nice to be travelling with you. I take it your daughter has had her child?’
She smiled. ‘Yes, indeed. A healthy boy. So my job is now done and I am going home.’
‘Which is where?’ the Apothecary enquired.
‘In Sussex. I live just outside Lewes.’
‘What a coincidence. That is where I am heading.’
An infinitesimal look of anxiety crossed her face to be rapidly replaced by her usual serene expression. ‘How delightful. I shall have a travelling companion.’
‘It will be entirely my pleasure.’
They relapsed into silence and John thought about his meeting with the Constable earlier that morning when they both had to admit that they were no further forward with the case.
‘It’s the very devil, Sir. I’ve interviewed them all bar the German woman and you say that she is coming to see me this morning.’
‘I am certain she will. Her sister is very different from her and she is driving Fraulein Schmitt in in a trap, so I have no reason to doubt it.’
‘Well, though none of them has an alibi, they seem a fairly straightforward bunch to me.’
Straightforward would have hardly been the word he would have used to describe such a diverse mixture of people considered John. But he had said nothing. Instead he had offered the information that he was on his way to Sussex to discover as much as he could about William Gorringe’s past.
‘Well, I wish you luck, Sir. But don’t be too disappointed if you come away empty-handed.’
And with that comforting thought the Apothecary had left to go to The Half Moon to catch the stagecoach. As he had gone he had spotted a trap in the distance being driven by the redoubtable Matilda Mitchell and had given a small sigh of relief.
Now he sat in the coach while the horses were backed into the traces amidst a certain amount of encouragement and swearing from the hostlers and the horsekeeper. Looking out of the window he saw with a certain amount of surprise that the Black Pyramid and Nathaniel Broome had come into the yard. Then he noticed they were carrying luggage and realized that they were going to travel with him as well. He watched as the great black man swung himself up onto the roof and put down a mighty hand to pull Nathaniel up to sit beside him.
‘All aboard, ladies and gentlemen?’ called the driver.
‘Wait for me,’ shouted an elderly man, puffing into the inn yard at the last minute. He was hauled up by unseen hands and the coachman cracked his whip.
‘Well, we’re away,’ said Mrs Silverwood, wiping a tear from her eye.
‘You will miss your daughter no doubt,’ John answered her.
‘Oh yes, I shall. She is my only child, alas. And Nicholas my only grandchild.’
‘So far,’ the Apothecary said cheerfully, and brought a smile to her lips.
The journey to London was a repetition of the excursion down but done in reverse. Having left Exeter at nine in the morning — as opposed to mid-evening — they stayed once again in Bath. During their first break John, having gallantly handed the ladies out and assisted a clergyman to descend, found himself face-to-face with Jack Beef, alias the Black Pyramid.
The black man had swept him a fulsome bow. ‘My word. So we meet again. How delightful to see you Mr Rawlings.’
‘The pleasure is entirely mine,’ the Apothecary answered, returning the compliment.
There was a great flash of white teeth. ‘I take it that you are returning to London?’
‘Actually I am travelling on further. What about yourself?’
‘I am going to a fight in Islington. At Stokes’s Amphitheatre to be precise.’
‘Oh, I like that place. I went there years ago and saw a female boxing match.’
‘Well, now it’s Jack’s turn,’ said Nathaniel, coming round the corner and tipping his hat in the direction of the Apothecary.
‘Did you do well from your bout in Exeter?’ John asked conversationally.
‘Extremely well. In addition to my purse I got a reward from some young blade who had wagered a great deal on my winning. It was a most enjoyable trip.’
‘But marred by the murder of William Gorringe no doubt.’
The black man straightened his face while Nathaniel swept his hat from his head.
‘That was an unfortunate business. Both Nat and I have seen the Constable but we found it hard to give him any information. I imagine it was some burglar who crept in and was surprised during the robbery.’
‘I think not,’ John answered briefly.
‘Oh? Why do you say that?’
‘The man was attacked with unbelievable savagery. All the evidence points to him being killed by somebody who really hated him.’
The Black Pyramid looked grim, his face tautening into deep lines and dark furrows. ‘Must have been
