The Alchemist's Apprentice Read online

  Jill said nothing until the kitchen door slammed closed. “You’re in trouble,” she said. “What did you do?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. It wasn’t entirely true. I had left the Great Hall when I was technically supposed to be on duty. “Do you think she’s going to fire me?”

  “She’s more likely to hex you,” Jill said. “I hope you brought more of that salve.”

  “Not enough,” I said, morbidly. There would be no hope of making more, either, unless I managed to break into one of the potions workrooms. If I was caught there, I wouldn’t have a hope of escape before it was too late. “What should I do?”

  “Be contrite, beg for mercy, promise you won’t do it again, blah-blah-blah.” Jill winked at me. “If you were completely useless, she would have fired you by now. She wouldn’t have to pay the Hiring Hall their finder’s fee if you got kicked out within a week. No, she’ll rant and rave and probably hex you, but she won’t fire you.”

  “Ouch,” I said. Getting fired would solve one of my problems, although it would cause some more. Zadornov would be furious if I was unceremoniously thrown out of the hall. Ginny, too, might have to explain my sudden appearance to her superiors. “Is she that desperate for maids?”

  Jill leaned closer. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Her little fiefdom is contracting rapidly.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said. I found it hard to comprehend that Bolingbroke Hall suffered from a shortage of servants, but everyone from Ginny to Jill and Lucinda herself seemed to believe it was true. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” Jill said. “And don’t hesitate to come find me afterwards.”

  I put my plate in the sink - I’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that I wasn’t to wash it - and hurried down the corridor to Lucinda’s office. The door opened as I approached, revealing that Lucinda was sitting behind a desk, her nose buried in a pile of paperwork. She didn’t look up, but I was sure she was watching me. I dropped a curtsey, then stood and waited for her to stop pretending that she was busy. It was nothing more than a power game. I’d seen it before when I’d dealt with some of Master Travis’s suppliers.

  “Well,” Lucinda said. She made a show of putting the paperwork aside as she looked up at me. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  I remained calm. “Miss Lucinda?”

  “You were meant to remain in the Great Hall until you were dismissed,” Lucinda said. “But when I looked for you, I could not find you.”

  “Master Reginald ordered me to bring drinks to him and his ... friends,” I said. I’d almost said cronies . “I could not disobey a direct order.”

  Lucinda looked as if she’d bitten into a lemon. I hoped she hadn’t realised that I had left the Great Hall without permission. Reginald had only issued his orders after I’d brought him the rosewater wine ... I hoped she wouldn’t dare ask him. He would probably think it funny to land me in hot water ... and he wouldn’t even have to lie . Lucinda had enough reason to be angry at me without Reginald stirring the pot.

  She won’t ask him , I told myself. And she might not even believe his answer .

  “You should have informed me before you left,” Lucinda said. “I need to know where you are at all times. It was embarrassing to have to send Christina in your place.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Lucinda,” I said, trying to sound contrite. “It won’t happen again.”

  “I should hope not,” Lucinda said. “If it happens again, I’ll be forced to dock you a day’s pay.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it again. Lucinda was just looking for an excuse to punish me. I probably had caused her some small embarrassment, although it couldn’t have been that much. Christina was a senior maid, not one of the guests. It wasn’t as if the aristocrats had had to fetch their own drinks. Besides, I wasn't sure where Lucinda had been during the ball. She’d retreated shortly after the ball had begun and I hadn’t seen her until it had finally concluded.

  “It won’t happen again,” I repeated.

  “Good,” Lucinda said. “Hold out your hand.”

  I blinked. “Miss?”

  “Hold out your hand,” Lucinda repeated.

  I did as I was told. A moment later, she slapped my palm. Hard. I yelped in pain. Lucinda smiled, coldly, as I yanked my hand back. There was something in her eyes that chilled me to the bone. Her voice, when she spoke, was very cold.

  “You’ve done well so far, Rebecca, but I cannot abide carelessness. I need to know where you are at all times.”

  I bowed my head, rubbing my throbbing palm. “Yes, Miss Lucinda.”

  Lucinda gave me a nasty look. “This afternoon, the family will be having a late lunch in the Green Room,” she said. Her voice dripped poison. “You will clean Master Reginald’s quarters during his absence. I’m sure he will appreciate your devotion to duty.”

  I felt a flash of fear. “Master Reginald summoned me?”

  Lucinda met my eyes. “His ... stepmother ... feels that his room needs to be cleaned,” she said, after a moment. “He is reluctant to allow anyone to enter his quarters. However, Lady Antonia has commanded and we must obey. You’ll have at least two hours to do the work before Master Reginald returns from lunch.”

  I swallowed. Reginald’s room had to be heavily warded. I certainly didn’t want him to catch me in his room, even if his stepmother had ordered me to clean his chambers. And ... my mind raced. Lucinda clearly knew that something had happened, last night. Was this a punishment for me? Did she hope Reginald would teach me a lesson? Or ... or what? It was too much of a coincidence for me to be entirely comfortable.

  You need to get into that room and this is the perfect excuse , I told myself. You just have to be careful - and play dumb if you’re caught .

  “Yes, Miss Lucinda,” I said. I’d cleaned a couple of other rooms. I could handle Reginald’s private chambers. “I will attend to it personally.”

  Lucinda smiled, coldly. “I have no doubt of it.”

  I took a breath. “I would also like to take one of my off-days next weekend,” I said. “If I could go out on Saturday or Sunday ...”

  Lucinda looked displeased. “Do you know how many others have requested those days as off-days?”

  “No, Miss,” I said. “But I haven’t taken a single day off since I was hired. I believe I am entitled to ...”

  “At my discretion.” Lucinda cut me off, sharply. “But you have been a good worker. Very well. You may have Saturday afternoon off unless something comes up. And I hope you will return to work invigorated.”

  “Yes, Miss,” I said.

  “ However , there will be no advance on your pay,” Lucinda added. “Mr. Staunton has specifically forbidden me to advance monies to untried staff.”

  “Yes, Miss,” I said. If I’d been a real maid, that would have stung. I understood the value of saving, but I also liked the feeling of spending money I’d actually earned. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going out to enjoy myself. “With your permission, I will send a note to a friend inviting him to join me.”

  Lucinda looked irked, as if she’d expected me to show more of a reaction. “Make sure you’re back before dark,” she said. “I won’t have you coming in the gates after nightfall.”

  “Yes, Miss,” I said. Both my mother and Master Travis had said the same, but Water Shallot was not a safe place for an unaccompanied young girl. I’d expected North Shallot to be safer, somehow. “I’ll be sure to be back early.”

  “Do make sure of it,” Lucinda said. “You can spend the morning helping to clean the Great Hall. Go.”

  I dropped another curtsey, then hurried out of the room. I’d need to send a note to Zadornov, arranging a meeting, then ... I shuddered. One way or the other, I really didn’t want to enter Reginald’s room. But I had no choice. Lucinda, for whatever reason of her own, was just looking for a reason to get rid of me.

  And you have an excuse to enter his chambers , I told myself. What more do you need?

 
; Chapter Twenty-Three

  I couldn’t help feeling nervous as I stopped in front of Reginald’s room and peered at the wooden door. Reginald himself was downstairs, eating lunch with his father, stepmother and the rest of the family, but I knew better than to think the room was safe . Jill had assured me that Lady Antonia’s permission would have overridden any private commands Reginald had uploaded into the wards, yet I could think of several ways to keep intruders out without relying on the hall’s protections. And if I could think of them, Reginald could think of them too. He’d certainly had much longer to devise ways to hide his secrets.

  Gritting my teeth, and expecting a hex to explode in my face at any moment, I pressed my fingers against the wooden panel. The wood grew warm under my skin, then the door unlocked with an audible click . Reginald had installed a physical lock as well as a magical one. I frowned as the door opened a couple of inches, wondering why his family had allowed it. My stepfather had flatly refused to allow me - or my half-sisters - to have locks on our doors. It was his house, he’d said, and he had the right to go wherever he liked. But then, I supposed that Reginald’s family would have no trouble blasting down the door if the lock proved resistant to lock-picking spells.

  I gingerly pushed the door all the way open and peered inside. Reginald’s room was immense, large enough for several people; a large desk was pressed against one wall, while two smaller doors led to a bedroom and - I guessed - a private bathroom. I walked forward, pulling my trolley of cleaning supplies after me. Reginald’s quarters were slightly smaller than his brother’s, I thought, but they were still stunningly luxurious. I found it easy to understand, all of a sudden, why he’d grown into such a brat. He’d been given the whole world on a platter.

  But not all of it , I thought, as I closed the door and looked around. He’s still a bastard son.

  The room was fascinating. One wall was lined with book cabinets, the books hidden behind charmed glass: I stepped forward, trying to read the titles one by one. They all seemed to be books on magic, ranging from basic paperback textbooks to older leather-bound volumes with faded titles and protective charms. I felt another stab of envy, mingled with fear and contempt. Reginald didn’t have to be Heir Primus of House Bolingbroke to live a good life. He could have been a powerful magician, a strong right arm, an asset to his father and brother ... instead, he’d abused his sister, killed my master and terrified everyone he’d met. I reminded myself, sharply, that I didn’t have time to try to open his cabinets and browse his collection. I needed to get on with it before he came back from lunch.

  I’d expected another lock - or a private ward - on the bedroom door, but it opened effortlessly when I touched the panel. Reginald’s bedroom wasn’t a chamber of horrors, somewhat to my amusement; it was a large chamber with an oversized bed, a handful of wardrobes and dozens of pieces of dirty clothing scattered everywhere. I winced, feeling a pang of sympathy for Reginald’s servants as I started to pick the clothes up and place them in the laundry basket. My mother would have been furious if I’d left my clothes lying around on the floor and my clothes had been worth a few coppers at most. Reginald’s tunic - the gold-edged jacket he’d worn last night - had to be worth considerably more. And he’d dropped it on the floor! I folded it, placed it in the basket and made a mental note to warn the washerwomen to be careful. Reginald might have woven quite a few protections into his clothes.

  If he makes them himself , I thought. Master Travis had shown me a couple of tricks, simple charms that could make a dress resistant to stains and water damage, but he’d admitted that he didn’t know many more. He probably buys them from a personal tailor .

  I moved around the bedroom, carefully straightening it out. A large collection of books was balanced precariously on a table, threatening to fall over if someone so much as breathed on them. I reduced the pile to a more manageable collection, taking the time to determine if Master Travis’s notebook was amongst them. It didn’t look like it. There were books on potions, including a handful I wanted to read, but no sign of the notebook. Reginald had clearly hidden it away somewhere. I resisted the urge to open a volume I didn't recognise - I didn’t like the runes someone had carved into the leather - and turned my attention to changing the bedclothes. It was practically a two-person job. I silently thanked my unknown ancestors that Master Travis and I had both used oversized duvets. I knew how to change them without help.

  Particularly as using magic in here might set off an alarm , I thought, as I finished checking the room for discarded clothes and rubbish. Reginald’s litter bin was full of discarded paper bags, but - when I checked them - it became apparent that they’d held sweets rather than potions ingredients. I don’t even dare try to use magic to find the notebook .

  I pushed the trolley of dirty washing back into the main room, then dusted the desk and checked the drawers. They were locked and heavily warded. I didn’t dare try to break the wards. They were simply too strong for me. I left them alone and went to dust the cabinets, trying not to stare too openly at the books inside. There were titles on the shelves I’d seen mentioned in the lists of rare and valuable books at the back of Potions Quarterly . Master Travis would have given his right eye to have even an hour or two in Reginald’s room. I wondered, as tears prickled at the corner of my eyes, if Reginald had even thought to offer Master Travis a look at his library. Or to have the books brought to the shop. It would have been cheaper than paying whatever advance he’d offered Master Travis ...

  I wiped my eyes as I walked into the bathroom, expecting to walk into a nightmare. But it was surprisingly clean and tidy. I wiped the bath carefully - it was large enough to hold three or four full-sized adults - and then wiped down the sink and toilet. Reginald really didn’t know how lucky he was. He had more room to do his ablutions than I’d had in my entire garret. And he had a full-sized bedroom and an office and more clothes than I could count and ... I shook my head, angrily. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting the notebook and fleeing the hall.

  And yet, where was it?

  I checked my watch as I walked back into the main room. Reginald had to have it hidden somewhere in his private quarters. There were plenty of disused rooms in Bolingbroke Hall - Jill had shown me a floor on the upper levels that was only opened when the entire family gathered to choose the next Patriarch - but none of them could be sealed. What would Reginald do if a maid, dusting the shelves, found the notebook and took it to her master? No, he’d want to keep it somewhere he had total control. His quarters were the only logical place.

  Unless he has an apartment outside the hall , I thought. The notebook might not be here at all.

  I winced at the thought. That hadn’t occurred to me, although ... I cursed under my breath. It should have occurred to me. Reginald hadn’t had any problems navigating Water Shallot. He could have hired an apartment right next to Ginny and I wouldn’t have a hope of finding it. Or, more likely, somewhere in South Shallot. I wondered, grimly, if his family would know. They might not pay too much attention to anything he did outside the hall. And yet ...

  He lives here , I mused. I hadn’t been able to track his comings and goings, but I was fairly sure he spent most of his time in the hall. He wouldn’t want to put the notebook outside his control ...

  I stood in the centre of the main room and looked around. Something was nagging at my mind, something I’d missed. But what? Master Travis had concealed a few books and valuables under the floorboards, but I doubted Reginald would be allowed to remove the carpet and dig up the flooring to build a secret compartment under his chambers. The thought of him accidentally falling through the floor and into one of the lower rooms was amusing, but I didn’t think he was that careless. Besides, he might accidentally put his compartment outside the wards. No, that wasn’t what I was missing. There was something else. Something ...