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stretches. They might welcome her help for a little while.
    She slipped past Kate and, taking an old cloak from a hook by the door, went out into the garden. Breathing in deeply, she felt the crisp air begin to revive her spirits. No wonder Magda advised her to walk outside as much as she found comfortable. She took the path through the garden to the apothecary. She found Edric in the workshop, hands on hips, considering an assortment of jars, a scale, and a mortar and pestle.
    ‘Dame Lucie, what a blessing that you’ve come.’ He drew up a stool for her at the work table.
    ‘Are you in need of my advice?’ she asked as she took a seat.
    ‘I am. I’m mixing a headache powder for the Master of St Leonard’s, but I’ve just noticed that there are three different mixtures for him.’
    Sir Richard de Ravenser, the archbishop’s nephew, suffered from a variety of head complaints, varying in intensity. ‘How did his servant describe his condition?’
    Edric made a face. ‘It was not his servant.’
    ‘His clerk Douglas?’
    Edric nodded. ‘He’s threatened to return before I close up.’
    Lucie thought it was the first sarcasm she’d heard from her new apprentice.
    ‘Douglas is an unpleasant man in the best of times,’ she said, ‘but when Sir Richard is ailing he’s desperate and so even worse than usual. How did he describe his master’s condition?’
    ‘Sir Richard is blinking against the light and wants nothing to eat,’ said Edric.
    Lucie nodded. ‘Poor Sir Richard, that is his worst. Make him the third one, with the sleeping draught. I’d forgotten he’s been away, to court. I’m not surprised he used all he had and needs more. Double the recipe.’
    She reached for a jar of sufficient size and felt Edric step close, his hands ready to catch her by her swollen waist if she stumbled. She was flustered by the scent of him, the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Perhaps he was merely concernedfor a mother-to-be, not wooing her; in fact, that is surely what it must be. He had no doubt heard that she’d lost her last child in a fall. Turning round and handing him the jar, she said, ‘You are kind, Edric, but you must not fuss over me. After all, I am your master.’ She said it with a smile.
    He blushed and moved aside. ‘I meant no disrespect, Mistress.’
    ‘I doubt you did, Edric.’ Perhaps she needn’t have said anything, but if it had flustered her what might he have felt. He must learn propriety. ‘Do not make Douglas wait,’ she reminded him, then moved on into the shop to assist Jasper.
    She was glad to find him intent on listening to a customer’s lamentations regarding his bowels. Not that the subject was pleasant, but Jasper seemed himself, as if he’d already shrugged off the event on the river.
    Later, back by the fire in the hall, Lucie remembered her apprentice’s gesture and wondered whether he understood the difference between feeling protective of a woman and feeling attracted to her. He was so young, so earnest – so charming. She knew that it was just such a complication that worried some of the guild members about her being a master apothecary, with male apprentices. Most likely because Jasper was her adopted son, he’d never seemed confused about his relationship with her. But Edric – she was unsure how to know whether she was reading too much into his behaviour or not enough. After all, Bess had noted it.That worried Lucie. But she need not fear that Owen would notice. She wished he were less protective of her and more flirtatious and affectionate. She felt huge and unlovely. A passionate kiss would go a long way towards brightening her spirit.

Two
     

PUZZLING
CONNECTIONS
     
    T he near drowning and a priest and schoolmaster suspected by the gossips of attempted murder brought many to the York Tavern that evening. Bess’s husband Tom growled about her long absence when she returned from Lucie’s house.
    ‘You’d be more than a little angry if I’d disappeared