Chapter 22

22

Eliza

February 10, 1791

It was after eight o’clock in the evening, and though Nella had worked ceaselessly over the last few hours, she would not let me help. Instead, she strained under the effort of pushing corks as far into their bottles as they would go, nesting the empty boxes as tightly as they would fit and scrubbing a few of her gallipots with all her might. She tidied and organized as though she meant to leave—if not permanently, then at least for a long while—and it was due entirely to my careless mistake.

Of all the errors, great and small, I had made in my twelve years of life, I believed that taking the jar from the lower cabinet was my greatest offense of all. How could I have overlooked the address etched into the jar? I’d never before made such a mess of things, never in my life.

Oh, how I wished I could turn back the hours. And to think I was once merely useless to Nella. At present that seemed a dream; with my mistake, I might have doomed her and all of us within the pages of her book. I thought again of the many names I’d traced in the register a couple of days ago. I had darkened the ink strokes in order to preserve and protect the names of the women, to give them a place in history, just as Nella had explained. Now, I feared I hadn’t preserved and protected anything at all. Instead, my mistake with the canister might expose the countless women in the book. Might ruin them.

I considered any practical ways to repair my wrongdoing but could think of none. Only the reversal of time could fix this, but it seemed a daunting thing to ask, even of magick.

And yet, Nella had not sent me away. Did she mean to kill me? Force me to account for my mistake? The room in which we sat, not speaking to one another, was thick with her frustration. I aimed to be as quiet as possible so as not to further agitate her, and I shrank in shame near the fated cupboard, hunched over myself, only three things before me: the book of household magick from Tom Pepper, lying open in my lap; the book of midwives’ magick from Nella, set aside; and a candle that was nearly spent. I had not the heart to ask Nella for a new candle, and would be forced soon to put away the books and—what? Fall asleep with my head against the stone wall? Wait for Nella to issue her punishment?

I lifted the dying candle above the open page before me. In the dim light, the printed words of Tom Pepper’s magick book seemed to dance and move on the page, and it took great effort for me to focus on a single line of text. This frustrated me greatly; if there was ever a time to rely on magick, what with its ability to give breath to stillborn baby Tom, it was now. I needed to find a spell to fix it all, and it couldn’t happen a moment too soon. Whereas this afternoon I sought a potion to unburden me of a man’s spirit, now I wished to remove the burden I had unwittingly placed upon Nella and myself and many others: the threat of arrest, condemnation and perhaps even execution.

With my finger, I traced each sentence and continued to run through the list of spells within Tom’s book.

Oil of Transparency, vis-à-vis Playing Cards

Effervescence for Extended Spring Crop

Tincture to Reverse Bad Fortune

Amid the clamor of Nella hammering a nail into a wooden crate, my eyes widened. Tincture to Reverse Bad Fortune. Well, I could be sure that no good fortune had found me whatsoever in recent days. My hand began to shake, the flame of the candle with it, as I read the spell, which claimed to be more powerful than “any weapon, any court, any King.” I studied the required ingredients—venom and rosewater, crushed feather and fern root, among others—and I swallowed hard, growing feverish. They were strange things, yes, but Nella’s shop was full of strange things. And I already knew that two of them, the rosewater and fern root, were on her shelves.

But what about the others? There was no way to move about the shop unnoticed; how could I collect the ingredients I needed, much less prepare them as indicated in the book? I would need to reveal my plans to Nella, for there was no other way—

At once, there came another striking noise. I had believed it a moment ago to be Nella’s hammer, but now I saw she had set the hammer down. As understanding came over me, I nearly dropped my candle; someone was at the door.

Nella, toiling by the hearth, looked to the door, her manner calm. She gave no sense of fear, showed no nerves. Did she wish it to be the authorities? Perhaps an end to all of this would be a welcome relief. Meanwhile, I remained frozen in terror. If a constable had come to arrest Nella, what would become of me? Would Nella reveal what I had done to Mr. Amwell? I would never see my mother or my mistress again, never get the chance to tell Tom Pepper of the spell I meant to try...

Or what if the newcomer was something even worse? The thought of Mr. Amwell’s hollow eyes and the idea of his milky, hazy ghost seized me, clutched my very heart. Perhaps he grew tired of waiting and had returned for me at last. “Nella, wait—” I cried.

She ignored me. With no hesitation in her step, Nella approached the door and opened it. I tensed, setting Tom Pepper’s magick book aside, and leaned forward to better see around the door. There was only one person in the shadows. I sighed in relief, for surely a constable would not arrive without his partner.

The visitor, covered in loose black fabric, wore a hood over their face. Their shoes were caked in mud—the stench hit me instantly, horse urine and turned-over earth—and from where I sat across the room, the guest appeared little more than a shrouded, trembling shadow.

A pair of black-gloved hands extended forward. Held between them was a jar: the jar I had filled only yesterday with the deadly beetle powder. It took me a moment to fully comprehend what was happening before me. The jar!Nella’s death sentence was no more!

The visitor unwrapped the black fabric around their face, and I gasped in recognition. It was Lady Clarence. Oh, I had never been so relieved to see anyone in all my life.

Nella reached a hand to the wall to steady herself. “You have the jar,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “Oh, how I feared this would not be the case...” She leaned forward, her other hand on her chest, and I worried she might fall to her knees. I stood at once and moved toward her.

“I came as quickly as I could,” Lady Clarence told us. A hairpin hung loose against her neck, ready to dislodge at any moment. “You must understand the flurry of activity at the estate. I have never seen so many people in one place. It’s as if another dinner party is imminent, though a more somber one at that. And the questions they continue to ask! The attorneys, worst of all. The activity was too much for my lady’s maid—she left me. This morning, before dawn rose, off she went without a word. Told only the coachman that she had resigned and planned to leave the city. I suppose I cannot blame her, given recent events. She did play a part in the whole thing, putting the powder into Miss Berkwell’s glass. Though she has left me greatly inconvenienced.”

“Heavens,” Nella said, but in her voice I heard apathy; she did not care a whit about Lady Clarence’s lady’s maid or lack thereof. She reached for the jar, spun it round in her hands and let out a sigh. “This is the one, yes. This is the exact one. Oh, how you’ve saved me from ruin, Lady Clarence...”

“Yes, yes, well, I told you I would dispose of it, and returning it to you here has been quite a chore, but your look this afternoon gave me such a fright. All is well now, I trust, and I see little reason to stay even a second longer than necessary, as it is growing late and I’ve not had a moment for a proper cry.”

Nella offered her tea before she took leave, but Lady Clarence declined.

“One more thing,” she said, briefly glancing at me and then trailing her eyes across the tiny room, void of the luxuries with which she must have been well accustomed. “I am not entirely sure what arrangement you’ve given the girl, but in the event you’d consider it, please do keep in mind that I’m now seeking a new housemaid.” She motioned to me like I was a piece of furniture. “She’s younger than I’d prefer, but not unreasonably so, and she’s obedient enough, the type to keep her mouth closed, yes? I’d like to fill the vacancy by the end of the week. Please do let me know as soon as possible. As I said, I’m on Carter Lane.”

Nella stammered over her reply. “Th-thank you for letting me know,” she said. “Eliza and I will discuss this. Such a change may be a welcome idea.”

Lady Clarence nodded and made her way out, leaving Nella and me alone.

Nella set the jar on the table and sank into a chair, the necessity of her organizing and packing efforts now removed. I glanced to Tom’s magick book, still on the floor; the candle beside it had expired at last. “Well,” Nella began, “there is no immediate crisis now. You may stay here tonight on account of this fortunate event. In the morning, I do suggest you consider the idea of visiting Lady Clarence. It may be a good post for you, should you remain fearful of the Amwell house.”

The Amwell house. The very words reminded me that not every curse upon me had vanished with the return of the jar. My error that had put Nella at risk might be gone, but that left me in the same spot I’d been earlier today. And I had no desire for a post with the Lady Clarence; I did not trust her and her manner was cold. I desired only to return to the service of my mistress. This meant returning to the Amwell house, so the importance of the Tincture to Reverse Bad Fortune still existed. Of the hundreds of spells I had read in the book, it was the only one that, with a bit of imagination, seemed able to vanquish Mr. Amwell’s lingering spirit.

Grateful for a place to lay my head, my heart now thumped in hopeful anticipation about the tincture. But if I intended to attempt the spell,then I must either tell Nella of my plans in the hope that she would permit me the use of her vials, or I must think of a way to gather the ingredients without her knowing—like Frederick did, so very long ago.

Yet even if I chose the first option, this exact moment did not seem the wisest; we were both tired, Nella so much so that her eyes were pink. For now, we both needed a few hours of sleep.

Tomorrow would come soon enough, and then I would find a way to try my hand at this thing they called magick.I tucked the book beneath my head and used it as a makeshift pillow. And as I fell asleep, I could not help but fall into an easy dream of the boy who’d given it to me.