A Family For Christmas (37 page)

‘But I will see you again?' she
asked.

‘Be happy, Eliza Dryad,' he
whispered, bending down and kissing her cheek. Then he put the old satchel over his shoulder and
quietly left the room.

It was only as the door shut behind him that she
realized he hadn't answered her question. She put her hand to her cheek. His kiss had left
her feeling warm and cherished, but not tingling and on fire. In that instant, she realized the
love and emotion she felt for Duncan was deep and gentle. She looked up to him as a daughter
should her father. It was different to the overwhelming passion she felt for James.

As tears welled again, she buried her head in the
cushion, seeing his smiling face and bright blue eyes. How she wanted to be with him, needed to
be by his side. The only way she could ever win him back was by convincing him she'd try
to overcome her fear of the summons of the maroon. But could she?

‘Are you all right?' Nan said,
bustling into the room. ‘Only I saw your friend leave and when you didn't reappear
… oh,' she gasped, staring at the pile of bank notes.

‘I think this is what they call a legacy,' Eliza
whispered, scrubbing her face with her hands.

‘Blimey O'Riley, no wonder
you're shocked,' exclaimed the usually mild Nan, glancing at the little clock on the
mantel. ‘It's nearly noon and the shop was empty when I came up, so I'll get
Sam to lock the door and you can tell us all about it over luncheon. I'm sure you'll
feel better for a cup of tea.'

As Eliza outlined the reason for Duncan's
visit, Grandfa Sam listened carefully.

‘Well, well,' he chuckled. ‘We
have our very own heiress under our roof, Nan.' Then he became serious. ‘I'm
sad for your loss. It sounds as though this Fay was a lovely woman who didn't let her
bitterness stand in the way of helping others. Have you counted that money?'

‘Well, no,' Eliza admitted.

He clicked his teeth. ‘First rule of
business, Eliza, is know your assets, otherwise how can you plan effectively?'

‘Pardon?'

‘You've been talking about getting
your perfume business off the ground and now you have the chance. That money will pay for rental
of suitable premises and the equipment required in setting it up. I took the liberty of smelling
your latest creation and it's quite good, but if you want to go into production,
you'll need to make more than a pot. You'll have to buy a decent-sized
still.'

Eliza looked at the dear man with his sensible
business brain, her heart sinking. ‘You want me to leave?' she whispered.

‘Not necessarily,' he said. ‘As
you know my old body's
not up to the
demands of running an apothecary's any more and I've been thinking of retiring.
Happen I need to do a bit of rethinking about my plans,' he said enigmatically.
‘Now, first things first, count those notes then I'll enter the amount on the first
page of a new ledger and lock the money in the safe.'

‘These pictures are beautiful,
Eliza,' Nan said. ‘That Fae was a talented lady and she's signed every one
too. It's an unusual way of spelling her name – F. A. E. – don't you
think?'

‘Oh, I hadn't realized,' Eliza
said, her mind still spinning with shock from the woman's death and the amount of money
she'd been left.

‘While Sam locks that envelope safely away,
you'd best go and collect the young rascal up from school.'

‘Goodness, is that the time?' Eliza
gasped, jumping to her feet.

As she sped through the town, the salty tang of
the ocean wafted her way. She inhaled again. Although it wasn't quite the same as the
lingering fragrance in her black bottle, she could see what Luke had been getting at. The sea
breeze cleared her head and lifted her spirits but when she reached the school, Luke greeted her
glumly.

‘Had a good day?' Eliza asked.

He scowled and shook his head. ‘Not going
back again,' he declared.

‘Look, the tide's out, why
don't we go over to the beach and you can tell me about your day?' she suggested.
Immediately he brightened and moments later was haring along the sand, kicking at the piles of
seaweed.

Her thoughts returned to James. She would go and
see
him, for after much thought she knew her love
for him was greater than her fears, and in future she would make more effort to control her
feelings.

‘Hey, Eliza,' Luke called, breaking
into her thoughts. She looked over and saw he was holding up some seaweed to his nose.

‘This smells even more like that stuff in
your bottle,' he cried, presenting her with the string of shiny weed.

She leaned forward and inhaled deeply. Then she
smelled it again. Maybe Luke had something after all, she thought, gathering some to take home.
She hadn't been getting anywhere with her flowers so it was worth a try, wasn't
it?

‘Luke, I could kiss you,' she
cried.

‘Yuk, I'd sooner be back in
school,' he muttered, taking off along the beach.

It wasn't until Luke fell asleep that
Eliza had time to reflect on the strange events of the day. Then she lay back against her pillow
and let the tears come. She'd been fond of Fae and would always be grateful for the
kindness she'd shown in taking her in and encouraging her to believe in herself. If only
the woman had confided in her so that she could have looked after her during her illness.
She'd never even had the opportunity to thank her for her incredible generosity in funding
her apprenticeship. And now she'd left Eliza a sizeable legacy along with her beautiful
pictures.

It had been wonderful to see Duncan. Dear, sweet
Duncan, who'd made sure he kept Fae's secret, then ventured all this way from his
beloved woods to find her as he'd promised. She would always remember him with affection,
and be grateful for all he had taught her. He was right, she had grown up and now she understood
the feelings she had for James were the grown-up love of a woman for a man.

James! She sat bolt upright in bed and stared out
at the moonlit night. In the excitement of discussing her future plans with Grandfa Sam, and
then her discovery on the beach, she'd forgotten to go and see him. As soon as she'd
dropped Luke off at school tomorrow, she would visit him and explain everything. She just hoped
she hadn't left it too late.

Next morning, as if he was sensing her impatience to be away,
Luke took his time over breakfast, moaning about having to go to school until Grandfa Sam looked
at him sternly.

‘So you don't want to be an
apothecary, like me?'

‘Course I do, which is why it's a
waste of time going to school,' he declared.

‘Right, so know your sums, do
you?'

‘No, but …'

‘And you can read and write?' Grandfa
continued on relentlessly.

‘Not yet, but I can roll out and cut
tablets,' he said, puffing out his little chest.

‘Indeed you can, lad, and that's a
great start. However, in order to become an apothecary, you need to be able to count so you can
make up medicine and measure out the correct doses. You'll need to be able to read so you
know what ingredients to use and you need to write so you can pen the instructions for the
patients, many of whom are unable to do it themselves.'

Luke thought for a few moments then grinned.
‘All right, if I go to school today and learn all this stuff, can I work in your
dispensary tomorrow?'

‘When you can read, write and do your sums
then you may join me,' Sam agreed, winking at Eliza.

‘Come on, Eliza, hurry up,' Luke
cried, suddenly eager to be away.

No sooner had they reached the school than Luke
dashed inside. Shaking her head, yet relieved he had listened to Grandfa Sam, Eliza hurried to
the beach. Although the sea was on its way in this morning there was still weed
strewn along the tide line. Quickly she filled her basket,
inhaling the distinctive briny scent. She couldn't believe she hadn't made the
connection that Luke had. Excitement tingled at the thought of trying her hand at this new
perfume, for surely it would match the one in the black bottle? As soon as she'd finished
here, she would go and visit James, apologize for her behaviour and promise to try to overcome
her fear.

Her heart singing at the thought of seeing him,
she set to filling her basket with the shiny weed. She was just stamping the sand from her boots
when, as if her thoughts had conjured him up, James came striding down the other side of the
street. Her heart gave a jolt.

‘James,' she called, hastily dodging
horse-drawn carts and carriages as she tried to cross the busy thoroughfare. In her haste, her
foot twisted and she tripped just before reaching him. His hand shot out and drew her safely
onto the pavement.

‘If you wore those shoes we made you
wouldn't stumble,' he said gruffly.

‘But they're much too nice to wear on
the beach. Oh, James, I've missed you so much. I was coming to see you later.'

There was a momentary spark in his eye, then his
expression became stiff as a mask. ‘To tell me your glad tidings?' he scoffed.
‘You needn't bother. Father has already told me about curly-haired
Duncan.'

She stared at him in surprise.
‘Duncan?'

‘He heard you call his name,' he
said, glowering.

‘But you don't understand
…' she began.

‘That you found a replacement so soon? No,
I don't.
But you needn't worry about
me, if you ever did.' He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Anyhow, no time to waste, I'm on
my way to join the others for training with the breeches buoy. They, at least, know what loyalty
is,' he spat over his shoulder.

‘But you've got it all wrong
…' she called, but he lengthened his stride.

Stunned by his antagonism, she watched his
retreating back. After a moment she made to follow him, then stopped. Nan would be waiting for
her to take over in the shop. Sighing, she crossed back over the road. She'd call and see
him at the cobbler's after collecting Luke from school. The misunderstanding needed
sorting out before she could tell him about her decision.

When Eliza got back to the shop, Nan insisted she
get on with making her perfume while she served the customers.

‘To tell the truth, I'm finding it a
bit lonely upstairs without young Luke to mind. A good chinwag will do me the world of
good,' she declared. ‘I can keep an eye on Sam at the same time. He's getting
clumsier by the day and I'm beginning to think he should retire sooner rather than
later.'

‘Well, let me know if you need me,'
Eliza said, wrapping a clean white apron around her, then eagerly beginning her preparation. Her
thoughts still on James, she chopped the seaweed and made a distillation. It produced a curious
aroma and she tried blending it with a few drops of the one she'd made from the pink
flowers. Inhaling deeply, she shook her head: that didn't work well at all. Just like her
attempt to talk to James, she thought. Then she tried mixing the seaweed distillation with some
from the yellow flowers. That was better but still not the result she'd hoped for.

Disappointed, she was about to throw the liquid
away
when the doorbell tinkled and Amos appeared.
He was smartly dressed in a grey high-buttoned frock coat, stiff choker collar and knotted tie,
and his hair had been cut.

‘Amos, you're looking very smart.
What are you doing here?' she asked, her mood lifting at the sight of her friend.

‘I have an appointment with Mr Cary,'
he answered.

‘He has a customer with him.' She
pointed to the partition.

‘I'm early so I'll wait, if I
may?' Eliza nodded and was about to ask him what had brought about the change in him, when
he came over to where she was working.

‘Something smells, er, interesting,'
he said, sniffing the air. Then he pointed to her alembic. ‘Cripes, that's
old-fashioned, isn't it?' he laughed.

‘I know, but I'm hoping I'll be
getting a new one soon.'

‘Lucky you! What are you brewing?' he
asked, bending over her jar of liquid and inhaling deeply.

‘I'm trying something new. What do
you think?' she asked.

He wrinkled his brow. ‘Erm, it's
quite nice, but a bit bland and one dimensional, don't you think? A bit Schubert,'
he proclaimed.

‘Pardon?'

‘Unfinished. Remember, Mademoiselle, the
perfume, it should have all the notes of a symphony, non?' he intoned in a perfect
imitation of Monsieur Farrant.

‘Of course,' she said, shaking her
head. How could she have forgotten? Amos dipped a paper into the jar and waved it in the air
between them.

‘Non, Mademoiselle, this will not pass the
test,' he imitated, wagging his finger at her.

As
they dissolved into hysterics, the little bell tinkled. Looking up, she saw James had entered
the shop and was staring at her in disgust.

‘I thought I might have been hasty earlier,
but now I see even Father underestimated your appetite for men,' he said, his voice so
cold it sent shivers spiralling down her back.

‘Hey, that's not fair …'
Amos replied.

‘James, it's not what …'
Eliza began. But James had gone, slamming door behind him, setting the little bell jingling and
jangling.

‘James,' Eliza shouted, hurrying
after him, but he'd been swallowed up in the crowd and she couldn't see any sign of
him.

Upset by his accusation, she took herself back
inside just as Nan came scurrying in to see what the fuss was about.

‘What's going on? Oh, Amos, how
lovely to see you, though you could have been gentler with my poor bell,' she said.

He laughed. ‘Sorry, Mrs Cary. May I thank
you again for that delicious meal the other evening?'

‘It was my pleasure, Amos. Sam won't
be long, so you go on up and pour yourself a cuppa.'

‘Thank you. You all right?' he
asked.

Seeing the concern in his eyes Eliza forced a
smile and nodded.

‘Next time, try drying that weed before you
use it; it might help,' he suggested, making his way towards the stairs.

Her upset at James's outburst turned to
anger and Eliza
slammed the jar down on the
table. How dare he say such nasty things? She wasn't sure she wanted to walk out with
someone who jumped to conclusions all the time. Mr Cary's bitterness had obviously rubbed
off on him. Well, she wasn't going to waste her precious perfume-making time fretting, she
thought, pushing his harsh words to the back of her mind and turning her attention back to her
creation.

Inhaling her mix again, she had to agree it
wasn't right and was definitely lacking something. But the question was, what? She
referred to Fae's book but couldn't find anything relevant to the plants she'd
been using. Perhaps she should try drying the seaweed, as Amos had suggested. As she sat mulling
over what he'd said about blending and notes, Grandfa Sam emerged with his customer.

‘Two twice a day should cure that, Mr
Jackson,' he instructed, handing over a bottle. As the little man scurried from the shop,
Grandfa Sam turned to Nan, who was dusting the shelves. ‘Did I hear young Amos?'

‘He's waiting for you in the parlour,
Sam.'

‘I'd better go on up then.
How's it going with you and that seaweed, Eliza? There's certainly been some unusual
aromas wafting around in here this morning,' he grimaced.

‘I'm sure I'm on the right
track but it's not quite there yet,' she sighed.

‘Oh, well, don't be disheartened.
Even mighty oaks come from little acorns, don't they?'

‘Grandfa Sam, you're a genius,'
she cried, jumping to her feet and snatching up her basket. ‘Nan, can you manage without
me for a little while?'

The woman looked around the empty shop.
‘Think I can handle this rush,' she quipped.

Eliza hurried up to the big oak tree in the woods behind the
little town, her mind going into overdrive as she gathered up the bright green velvety plants
growing to the north of its base. Only when her basket was filled did she pause for breath.

A cuckoo calling from somewhere nearby reminded
her of Grampy, and how he'd told her about the parent laying its egg in another
bird's nest, expecting it to feed and look after its chick when it hatched. She sighed.
Wasn't that what she was: an interloper in Grandfa and Nan's home? They'd
become like grandparents to her, looking after her and guiding her. But they weren't
getting any younger and, with Grandfa's health failing, Nan wanted him to give up work.
Then there was Luke, a lovable but strong-willed child who tested them all to the limits. Now
she had Fae's money, surely it was only fair to move out and give them the peace and quiet
they deserved? Perhaps she could treat them to a holiday, offer to look after things whilst they
went away? Goodness knows, she should do something for these dear people who had shown her so
much kindness.

She wandered back through the fields where the
bluebells were already wilting. One minute they were waving about in all their beauty, the next
they faded and disappeared. Just like everyone she cared about, she thought, the crash of the
waves pounding the beach below reminding her of the last time she'd been here with James.
He'd been so loving then, and nothing like the tight-lipped man who'd stormed out of
the shop today, she thought, hurrying back towards the apothecary's.

To her surprise Grandfa Sam and Amos were bent
over the worktop in the dispensary.

‘Nan's gone to collect young Luke from school so put
that basket down and come over here. I've things I wish to discuss,' Sam said.

Pulling up a chair, Eliza glanced at Amos, who
winked back.