Death in Hellfire by Deryn Lake

career. Then he thought about her husband, the heir to a dukedom, and a cynical smile crossed his features. She had aimed high and she had achieved her objective. A mere apothecary would not have been sufficient to support the lifestyle she wished to enjoy. John’s mind turned to what might have been and he felt himself growing depressed. He deliberately determined to walk as soon as dinner was over to try and shake off such disheartening ideas.
    Slipping out of the George and Dragon, John made his way down the street, away from the great house, walking in the direction of High Wycombe. And then he heard the sound of wheels and drew back to let the coach pass. It was a great beast of a thing, painted black and as large and fiercesome as anything he had ever seen. There was a crest on the door but one which the Apothecary did not recognise. Standing by the cottage he shrank back as it passed and was rewarded by a brief glimpse of a white face staring out of the window before the blinds were pulled abruptly down. It was the face of a child, a thin, sad face that seemed to quiver as he watched it pass. Then the coach was gone, thundering off in the direction of West Wycombe Park, leaving John standing alone, full of strange conjecture, as it disappeared from view.

Chapter Six

    I t was an uneasy night. John slept fitfully, waking several times and turning over again and again when he did manage to drop off. He dreamt that the little girl he had seen in the coach was standing in his room, gazing at him with sorrowful eyes and never saying a word. Indeed on one occasion he could have sworn he actually saw her as he awoke, only for her to fade from view as he returned to full consciousness. John was relieved when it was morning and he was able to rise and eat a hearty breakfast to restore himself.
    Samuel, who was buzzing around but not actually doing much work, joined him as he left the guests” dining parlour.
    “Well, sir,” he said cheerily, “and what are your plans for today?”
    “Where have you been, Samuel?” John asked in a slightly irritable voice. “I had to dress myself this morning and not a sign of you anywhere.”
    Samuel looked contrite; an expression that John always found immensely touching.
    “Oh, sir, forgive me please. I must have overslept.”
    “I see. Well, don’t let it happen again. Now let us go to my chamber. I intend to call at West Wycombe today and I must attire myself suitably.”
    Once inside Sam said, “Oh John, I’ll swear this wretched place is haunted. I hardly got a wink all night.”
    “I agree. I had a terrible time as well. I dreamt of a child I saw last evening in a coach. She looked so sickly and she was going in the direction of the Dashwood house. I wonder who she could have been.”
    But Sam was too full of his own stories to pay much attention. “Honest to God, John, I heard nothing but banging and rattling all night long. It was the most frightening experience of my life.”
    “Did you see anything?”
    “No, not exactly.” Samuel admitted this with a certain reluctance.
    “Well, it was very windy. Probably all you heard was the building shaking. Old places do that you know.”
    “This inn isn’t that old.”
    “But it is possibly built on the site of something much older.” John warmed to his theme, watching Sam’s face. “Perhaps a monastery. The ghost is probably a phantom monk with a cowl and no face.”
    “Thank you for that. I shall stay awake and watch for him.”
    “That I find somewhat hard to imagine. Anyway, I’m going to call on the Dashwoods this morning. What shall I wear?” They decided on a suit of dark green with a velvet coat, doeskin breeches and an extremely elaborate cravat. John also wore a rather uninhibited ring which he had bought in the market in Cheapside and which his father would have declared as being not fit for a gentleman. However, it had certain merits as far as the Apothecary was concerned and he put it on with great