Chapter 56

I allowed this question to take up residence in my mind. I did not try to shoo it away or force it to bear fruit. I simply allowed it tenancy as I continued to work with my pencil, occasionally switching to my pen when the results were pleasing. After a while, I grew tired of the daisies and roses that I was adding. My artwork demanded a different shape, so I flipped through Augie’s wonderful book on garden plants. I considered this blossom and that, rejecting each in turn, until I happened upon foxglove. The slender thimble-shaped flowers would contrast nicely with the others I had drawn.

Foxglove. Also known as fairy caps, fairy bells, fairy fingers, and lady’s glove. The selfsame biennial herb that Miss Mary had hacked to the ground in Lady Grainger’s garden.

Why would she have done such a thing? Although I had visited many rooms in Lady Grainger’s house, I had not seen one bouquet of fresh flowers. Not one. So what had happened with all those plants? The stubble left behind suggested a fulsome harvest. Where did they all go?

And what was it that Polly told me? Something that Dorsey had said about the younger Miss Ingram leaving a mess in the kitchen.

Why would Miss Mary do such a thing?

Miss Mary, who followed Mr. Lerner around like a lovesick puppy. Miss Mary, who wanted to prove to Mr. Lerner that she would make a good doctor’s wife. Miss Mary, who craved her mother’s approval. Miss Mary, who badly needed her mother to put down her foot, to demand that her sister quit shilly-shallying around and at long last marry someone. Why would Miss Mary cut down an entire stand of foxglove and take it into Lady Grainger’s kitchen?

Unless . . . unless she planned a use for it!

Then I realized what if Miss Mary picked up errant papers from Mr. Lerner’s satchel? She might have read his notes concerning the titration of foxglove, otherwise known as digitalis. And thinking she could follow the instructions, she might have tried to brew a tincture herself. What better way could Mary prove her potential as a doctor’s wife, much less win her mother’s affection, than to cure the woman of problems with her heart?