Page 2 of A Potion for Passion

Having scolded herself to stop woolgathering and listen properly, she had a stroke of brilliance. Dr. L. E. Campaign’s Nerve Tonic was exactly what she needed, the perfect antidote to the effect he had on her. And it might also ease the tension she suffered while under the watchful eye of the Daniells.

But how embarrassing to own up to having a nervous disposition in front of all these people! Some folk she knew wore their ailments like badges of honor, proud to announce their suffering to the rest of the world. But not Flora. Besides which, Lucinda would use Flora’s head for a pincushion if she found out she’d bought a quack remedy so publicly.

She glanced around, but no one was spying on her. She must do it. She must buy some. Her scalp prickled at the thought of her own daring.

Campaign’s voice broke in on her thoughts. “Don’t look so crestfallen, madam,” he advised. “It’s within my power to make you a particular offer today. As I have excess stock, I can provide, for this afternoon only, a second bottle of this miraculous nerve tonic for just a shilling. Surely, that must bring a smile to your pretty lips?”

She suddenly realized she was surrounded by silence, and that all heads were turned in her direction.

“Madam! Yes, the lady with the delightfully silky curls, I’m addressing you. No need to be shy. Everyone here will agree you can’t afford to miss this opportunity.”

Her face heated up like a boiled lobster, and she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. But his choice of words shot through her head and bounced back and forth, flattering and terrifying at the same time. Pretty lips? Silky curls?

He couldn’t mean that. He was just being a good salesman. And how could he tell she was considering the nerve tonic? Was he a magician as well as a self-styled physician?

“Go on, Miss Hartington,” said a voice beside her. “At only a shilling for the second bottle, I’m sorely tempted myself.” The widow Sally Matthews, proprietress of Matthew’s Milliners—the very shop in which Flora hoped for a partnership—smiled at her encouragingly. “If you buy some,” Sally added, “I’ll get some too. I just don’t want to be first to step forward.”

Flora didn’t want to step forward at all. But with everyone looking at her, she’d feel as much a fool if she did as she would if she didn’t. “Let’s go up together,” she whispered to Sally. “If you insist.”

Sally nodded, and the doctor clapped his hands as they jostled their way through the crowd. “Ah, you must be my lucky charm, madam,” he enthused at Flora, leaping lightly down from the stage, “for you bring with you a second customer. Thank you!”

Grateful that her bonnet hid her blushes, Flora accepted the two bottles of nerve tonic in trembling fingers, and bestowed them immediately in her reticule. Sally smiled broadly, looking at the crowd over her shoulder as she handed over her shillings. East Town’s hat-and-bonnet maker and purveyor of decorative trimmings was loving the attention. Indeed, no one observing Sally’s behavior could imagine she needed a nerve tonic.

Flora caught a significant look passing between the doctor and the milliner before Sally turned to face the crowd, announcing, “I’ll take this remedy dutifully for a whole week. I promise anyone who comes into my establishment during that time will be given a free sample, until the first bottle is quite empty. My regular customers can try two teaspoonfuls if they wish. I declare—it’s quite in my own interest. I don’t want anyone to feel nervous about buying a bonnet from me!” A surge of laughter rippled through the assembled watchers, and Sally marched off looking pleased with herself.

Flora was left standing in front of the crowd, flushed and awkward, and unable to shake the impression that she’d just been used. And shown herself a gullible fool in front of everyone.

If Lucinda ever found out, she’d have a field day.