Jars and bottles of every shape lined the shelves along the window, filled with powders, herbs, and oils of every color. A long table stretched through most of the space, scuffed anddinged from much use, and standing in front of the windows was a desk, whose chair was occupied by a lad who was more interested in his magazine than his work.
Perhaps this was a younger Templeton sibling, though Arthur would swear there were only three: Mr. Templeton, Miss Templeton, and a daughter who married and moved to Plymouth. And years of experience had taught him to recognize the signs of a lazy apprentice; he couldn’t quantify precisely what gave the impression, but he didn’t dismiss the instinct.
Arthur couldn’t help but wonder where Mr. Templeton was and why he’d left his apprentice with nothing to do. During his years of study, Arthur had wanted nothing more than a few minutes to rest, but there were always more supplies to be readied, more texts to study, and more practice to be completed.
Frowning at the window, he turned away to see Miss Templeton open the front door before returning to the cart. The horse stood patiently awaiting the command from his master, whilst the fellow in question watched as Miss Templeton reached for a massive sack of Epsom salts. Before Arthur knew what she was about, the lady hefted it onto her shoulder with a grunt—whilst the driver simply stood there.
“What in the blazes are you doing?!” Arthur demanded.
Chapter 16
Arthur’s voice rose of its own volition, drawing the attention of both the driver and the lady to him—and carrying through the house enough to tear the apprentice from his magazine. Miss Templeton’s brows rose, and though Arthur was sorry for the language, he wouldn’t apologize for the honest sentiment that drew it forth.
“Give that here,” said Arthur.
He knew he ought to moderate his tone but seeing her treated like a workhorse broke his hold on his emotions. Miss Templeton stared at him as he lifted the sack from her shoulder with one arm and thrust the flowers and basket at her before steadying his shoulder.
“Dr. Vaughn…” began Miss Templeton as a slew of objections rose to her lips.
“No,” was all the answer he was willing and able to give at the moment. Turning a gimlet eye on the driver, Arthur scowled. “Are you going to assist the lady or not?”
“Not when the ‘lady’ is a good deal larger than me,” he muttered. “She’s capable of managing on her own.”
Being a rather quiet fellow, Arthur hadn’t thought himself capable of a temper, but those words sparked a flame inside him that burned through his veins as never before.
“Whether or not she’s capable isn’t the issue, you ill-mannered lout.” Arthur’s voice lowered as heat infused his words. “She is a lady in every sense of the word, and you will treat her as such. Now, start hauling in the supplies. Do not make me tell you again!”
And with that, Arthur turned on his heel, hauling the sack inside the shop with Miss Templeton following after; at least she wasn’t protesting any longer. Stepping into the office, he spied the worktable, but the surface was cluttered with tools and paraphernalia. The desk was unoccupied, but he wouldn’t dare damage it by putting the sack there, so he set it on the ground.
“What do you think you are doing?” Arthur demanded as he glared at the young man sitting at the desk.
The lad’s mouth gaped, his brows rising. “I was just reading, sir.”
“No, you are just lazing about, wasting your time reading frivolous garbage whilst your parents paid good money to secure you an apprenticeship. Shift yourself!” he barked, and the apprentice’s feet flew from the table and drew him upright.
“Stop leaving Miss Templeton to do your work, and unload the cart. Be smart about it,” ordered Arthur.
And with that, the young man scurried out the door. Miss Templeton stood to one side, her mouth agape as she stared at Arthur. Whether or not he was being domineering or rude, he didn’t care in the slightest.
Nudging her toward the seat the apprentice had vacated, he said, “Sit.”
Miss Templeton’s mouth moved as though to object, though no words came forth as she stared at him for a moment before doing as bidden, setting the basket on the floor beside her and clutching the roses. In short order, the three menformed a chain and had the supplies pouring quickly into the workroom.
“That’s linen for bandages,” said Miss Templeton, rising from her seat, though she lowered herself again when Arthur leveled a warning look at her. Despite the mess on the table, the office was neatly organized, and it was easy to see where others of its kind were kept.
She made a move to rise again (to which Arthur gave her another warning look), and she sank down again. “That is charcoal for—”
“Poultices,” he finished. “I know.”
“Of course,” she murmured, her hands holding tight to the flowers and her fingers fiddling with the velvety petals as he placed the item where the other poultice supplies were kept.
In short order, they had the cart emptied, and the driver scrambled into his seat, sending the horse down the road before Arthur could say another word. The apprentice stood just inside the door, his spine ramrod straight like a soldier reporting to a commanding officer. Though even a private wouldn’t be quaking so badly when facing a general.
“Do you know where the rest goes?” asked Arthur.
The apprentice nodded.
“Then get to it.” Glancing at the mess atop the worktable, Arthur nodded to it. “And clean the office, while you are at it. That worktable ought to have been cleared properly before the delivery. And everything glass and metal needs to be polished.”
