She picked her skirts up and left him where he was. She did not look back.
Chapter Six
“Wait here,” Linnet told her clerk.
It had not been easy to find the herbalist. She and Master Woodley had spent the better part of an hour lost in the backstreets of London.
There was no reason to hide that she was seeking the old woman’s help. Many people came to her, as Linnet’s grandfather had, for headache powders or a salve for aching joints. All the same, Linnet glanced up and down the lane before going through the door of the small shop.
The gloom of the interior did nothing to alleviate her unease. As her eyes adjusted, she took in the rows and rows of tiny bottles and jars on the shelves that filled the wall on one side of the room. She stepped closer to see them better. The bottles were filled with every color of liquid. Curious, she picked up one that was thick with dust. Clearly, an unpopular remedy, but for what? She twisted the stopper off to take a sniff.
“Have a care with that, you foolish girl!”
Linnet jumped at the voice behind her and turned to find the oldest woman she had ever seen shuffling toward her.
“Curiosity can kill as surely as a blade,” the woman hissed as she wrapped her gnarled fingers around Linnet’s hand. “This potion is for warts and will burn your hand like boiling oil if you spill it.”
Linnet put the stopper back in the bottle with care. “Sorry, I did not mean to…”
“Snoop? Bah. Of course you did.”
The old woman took the bottle from Linnet and put it back in its place on the shelf.
“Kill a man if poured into the ear,” the old woman muttered, then nodded, as if having a conversation with herself.
Linnet reconsidered her quest. Suppose the old woman gave her the wrong herbs, and she became lovesick over a goat or grew an extra finger? It was known to happen. Although her grandfather spoke highly of this woman’s skills, that had been many years ago.
“ ’Tis a problem with a man that’s brought you here,” the old woman said.
Linnet drew in a quick breath. “Do you have the sight?” It was often the case with women who dealt in herbs and magic.
“What other reason brings a young woman aglow with good health to me?” the woman said. “ ’Tis always a man causing her trouble of one sort or another. But I’ll not complain. If men behaved as they ought, I’d have no food on my table.”
Linnet smiled as she thought of buying the potion for warts and pouring it into Pomeroy’s ear. Unfortunately, life was never that simple.
“If you’ve come seeking magic to do harm, you can turn yourself about and go.” The woman made a circular motion with her spindly finger and then pointed to the door. “I trade only in healing herbs and love potions.”
“I have come for two remedies, both to good purpose.” Linnet sidled up to the woman and said in a low voice, “I want the herbs that keep a woman from getting with child.”
Jamie could pretend it would not happen again, but a woman had to be pragmatic. Their passion had exploded like oil spilled on a cooking fire. No matter what their intentions—or how angry she was with him at present—the risk of their emotions raging out of control again was too great for her to take the chance again.
She had started her bleeding this morning—as if her mood was not foul enough after Pomeroy and Jamie. But she would not rely on luck a second time.
“I warn every woman, the herbs will nay prevent every pregnancy. Never stops them, though,” the old woman said, shaking her head. She pointed to a large cloth bag on the floor. “This one you boil, then soak the piece of wool in it that you use to block the womb.”
Linnet raised her eyebrows. If she and Jamie ended up in bed again, it was hard to imagine them stopping to do all that.
“Works best if your man’s predictable, if you know what I mean.” The woman pursed her lips into a mass of wrinkles, then said, “The sort who wants an extra cup of ale and a cozy after Mass on Sunday, reg’lar as rain.
“But if you’ve a young man, as I’m guessin’ you have”—Linnet jumped as the old woman jabbed her side with a pointy elbow—“then you’ll be wanting the oil of pennyroyal or wild carrot seeds.”
Linnet had heard that a woman could bleed from every orifice and die from taking a few drops too many of penny royal.
“The wild carrot, please.”
The old woman nodded, apparently agreeing with her choice. “Now tell me what else you’ve come for,” she said, raising one scraggly eyebrow. “I’d wager a ha’penny ’tis a strange one.”
Linnet leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “Do you have something that works the opposite of a love potion? A potion that will cause a woman to find a man—a particular man—unappealing?”