Page 11 of The Laudanum Ladies' Society

‘Is there something else?’ Mrs Walters asked. She twisted her hands together and looked around her, brows furrowed. Poor woman, she probably thought Jenny was still planning to tell Uncle Conrad.

Jenny smiled, trying to put the older woman at ease. For her idea to work, it relied on persuading Mrs Walters. She’d felt guilty for hinting at blackmail on their first encounter and hoped she’d be persuasive enough without resorting to it again.

‘It’s nothing really. I’m probably being very foolish.’ Jenny tapped her fingers against her saucer and glanced around at the tightly packed tables. ‘Shall we walk? The weather is quite pleasant for this time of year.’

The weather really wasn’t very good and being indoors was preferable, but Mrs Walters looked intrigued. ‘Of course.’

They paid, then left, huddling close to the shopfronts for protection from the gusts that clawed at their hems and veils. They paused to look in the window of a haberdasher’s and Mrs Walters placed her hands together. One of her gloves hada loose thread between the middle finger and forefinger, and there was wear around the knuckles where the nap had faded. She wasn’t rich, and hopefully that would help persuade her of the attraction of Jenny’s plan.

Before Jenny could propose it, Mrs Walters cleared her throat.

‘It strikes me that if you will pay me for this mixture, there might be others who would do so, too.’

‘Other women?’ Jenny asked. Her stomach tightened. Could it be that Mrs Walters had come to the same conclusion?

‘Yes. Women who might be grateful for the relief it offers. I didn’t mean to make it, of course, but, well, now that I have, it seems to me a great shame not to offer the benefits to others.’

‘This is a very sudden change of heart!’ Jenny said, concealing her euphoria. It was not going to be difficult at all.‘Last time we met, you were barely prepared to contemplate making this for me and now you are considering selling it to others. What has changed?’

Mrs Walters placed her hands together. She turned and walked slowly away. Jenny fell in at her side. Once they had crossed to the small park, Jenny paused by the bandstand, sheltering against the stone pillars.

‘You know I have been doing what I am doing because my husband has been slightly incapacitated,’ said Mrs Walters.

‘And he needs to pay for his eye surgery. Yes, I know. It must be very expensive,’ Jenny prompted. Money lay at the heart of so many choices.

‘It is, but that’s not the reason I want to do this.’ Mrs Walters lifted her head and pushed back her veil. The habitual nervous look in her eyes had vanished. ‘I am going to be very candid with you, Miss Rosewood. It’s true that I have been doing my husband’s job out of necessity. However, I have discovered that I find preparing the medications enjoyable and stimulating. When Archibald is able to resume his duties himself, I will be allowed no part of it. I wish to find a way to occupy myself while making an independent income. In short, I want to do it for myself.’

She held Jenny’s eyes, as if daring her to object. Jenny, however, had no intention of doing any such thing.

‘Mrs Walters, thank you for confiding in me. I think I understand perfectly. It is one of the great injustices of our world that a woman is reliant on a man and his whims. I think your enterprise is an excellent idea.’

She felt a rush of admiration towards Mrs Walters for attempting to take control of her lot.

‘In fact, I think it is so excellent that I would like to throw my lot in with yours. I have no idea how to manufacture yourtincture, but I might know people who would buy it. If you make it, may I become involved in selling it?’

The expression of pleasure on Mrs Walters’ face was the answer she needed.

‘I was hoping you would! The problem I have, is that I don’t particularly know many women other than neighbours or the wives of Archibald’s friends, so I couldn’t really ask them myself,’ Mrs Walters said. ‘But I wonder if you are more sociable than I am, and whether you might know of anyone who would be interested?’

‘I’m not particularly sociable,’ Jenny mused. ‘Being perfectly honest, I tend to avoid my uncle’s acquaintances, but I’m sure I will be able to think of one or two customers.’

Mrs Walters held out a hand. ‘I will make it, if you find buyers.’

‘That sounds a fair allocation of work,’ Jenny agreed, shaking her hand. ‘And we will split the profits. We’re sure to make some. I think half a crown would be a fair price to charge others, or even a crown. I really do believe we have a good idea. An afternoon tea where ladies may partake of delights to alleviate our troubles and stimulate our moods.’

It was growing dark, and a smattering of rain came out of nowhere.

‘Let’s walk back towards the tram while we consider what best to do,’ Jenny said. As they strolled, she thought aloud.

‘I shall invite a few potential clients to take tea in the week before Christmas. I am sure that before too long, one of the other guests will make a reference to aches and pains. I’ll mention that I have heard of the most marvellous product to aid sleep. We’ll offer to order it from the newspaper, and then, a week or so later, we’ll invite everyone again to collect it. You must be there, of course, to help steer the conversation in the appropriate direction.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ Mrs Walters exclaimed, shrinking into herself. ‘I don’t want to put my name to it. If Mr Walters ever found out, then he would be furious.’

‘You don’t have to admit to being the creator. I will say that I obtained it by writing off for a bottle from a newspaper advertisement.’

Mrs Walters still looked uncertain. ‘But I don’t know any of those people and I am so busy.’

‘That is why you deserve an afternoon for yourself,’ Jenny said smoothly. She took Mrs Walters by the hand.