They had moved her into the new building the very next day. At her request, they had also recruited the old woman at the other apothecary shop. Mrs. Druina Parise arrived the very next day carrying a satchel filled with seeds and the recipe book that Yihui had seen in the other shop.
The one thing not under Yihui’s control was the name of the shop. Madame Sabate declared it would be My Lady’s Apothecary. Medicine for women by women who would never be beholden to a man again.
So it was done, and Yihui began to work.
Her feet were still aching despite the bandages, and so Madame Florina offered her a solution. A taciturn Irish woman named Olivia would act as her servant. The woman was thick shouldered and scarred but had a smile that warmed Yihui’s heart. She easily carried Yihui wherever she needed to go.
And so it was done. Nights were filled with aching loss. Mornings had no time for tears as she steadily worked through mental lists of what needed to be done.
The major had found her around noon on the fourth day. Their conversation had been brief, but to the point. She had no time for Max. No desire to see the man. No need to bring theaching sadness of her nights into the day when she had a great deal of work to do.
That didn’t stop her from listening for a man’s heavy footsteps throughout the rest of the day. He came after dark when she sat at the primary worktable studying Druina’s recipe book. She knew it was Max by the way her heart leapt into her throat. She recognized the weight of his step and the cadence of his breath. Or perhaps, she merely knew it was a man and hoped it was him.
Either way, her desperate wish was rewarded. First, the major stepped into the room and then, quick on his heels, Max filled the doorway. He quickly surveyed the large dimensions of the room, and then he stared at her hungrily, even as he pulled off his hat and stripped away his gloves.
She didn’t move. She couldn’t. For all that she had shoved him from her mind, the sight of him filled her with a churning kind of delight both nauseating and wholly wonderful.
“Yihui,” he whispered.
“Max,” she echoed, equally breathless.
And then neither said a word more.
It was the major who spoke, his shrewd gaze hopping between the two of them. “He would not leave it alone until he heard directly from you.” The major straightened to his full height. “You are safe to say whatever you wish. I will not leave you alone with him.”
Max jerked as if slapped. “I wouldn’t hurt her!”
The major clenched his jaw. “Doesn’t have to be blows to hurt.”
“And just what do you think—”
“Thank you, major,” Yihui interrupted, effectively silencing Max. “I should have guessed he would insist.”
Max immediately turned his focus to her. “Are you so afraid of me?” His voice held shock and hurt.
She wasn’t afraid of him, per se, but dreaded this horrible desire that filled her whenever he was near. She’d barely started to shove down all the things he stirred inside her. Now she would have to start that all over again.
Even as she resigned herself to such a sad task, she drank in the size and feel of him. The hard edge of his jaw and the bold slash of his nose were sweetly familiar. The shadow in his gaze and the slump to his shoulders, though, were more pronounced.
“Not afraid,” she finally said. “I wished to save us both pain.”
He stepped forward, his gaze searching as much of her body as he could see. She wore an old gown, borrowed from the brothel. It hung on her loosely and covered her feet.
“How badly did they hurt you?”
She smiled and twisted in her seat, pulling aside her skirt to show him the bandages. “Very little damage. The wood and plaster saved me.”
He exhaled in relief. “So you will heal?”
As much as it was possible. But then they had already discussed this. “I am better every day.”
She saw the genuine concern on his face and her heart swelled.
“How is your father?” she asked.
His eyes widened at her question. “How can you ask after his health? I would think you want to curse him to the devil.”
Her expression turned rueful. “Perhaps I want to know that he is very ill.” She already knew from Madame Sabate that the duke had suffered an apoplexy. She knew the symptoms and feared that if the man had not died quickly, the rest of his life would be extremely difficult. But then her expression softened. “And perhaps I want to know how you fare after his fit.”
