"Skip over that part, Ellie, and find what they suggest to rectify the problem," Prudence urged impatiently.

"Suggestions." Eleanore scanned the long paragraph, reading various words aloud as she went. "'Imagination is excited'… 'symptoms'… 'delirium-'" She scowled impatiently. "Nay, all they say is that 'in cases of poisoning, vomiting should be induced by a subcutaneous injection of apomorphine."'

"Apomorphine?"

"An emetic," she explained.

"Oh."

"But your father hardly drinks to the point of poisoning himself."

Prudence snorted. "Nay. Not himself, just our lives." She was silent for a moment, misery making her slump; then her head slowly lifted, scheming obvious on her face.

Eleanore eyed her warily. "I know that look. It usually precedes trouble. Prudence, what are you thinking?"

"Think you that there are such things as oral emetics?"

Ellie slammed the book closed, alarm clear on her face. "Prudence!"

"It is perfect!" she cried excitedly. "A bout or two of drinking that leaves him hanging over the chamber pot ere he gets too sotted might cure him of any desire to drink and thereby end his gambling!"

"Pru!"

"Oh, do not look at me like that, Ellie," she snapped with irritation. "I am desperate. I no more wish to end up in debtor's prison than you would. He will ruin us with his drinking and gambling. He has been doing both steadily since John died. I am sure that if we could but keep him sober for a day or two, he would regain enough of his wits to realize what he is doing to our family."

"But-"

"How would you feel if it were your father?"

Eleanore fell silent. Prudence watched several expressions flit across her friend's face until resignation settled there. Placing the book on the settee between them, the girl stood and silently left the room.

Prudence promptly picked up the book she had left behind and leafed through it, looking for gambling, betting, and excesses, but none of those terms were to be found. It seemed such was an ailment of the soul, not the body. Sighing, she had just set the book aside when Eleanore hurried back into the room, a large bottle gripped tightly in her hands.

"What is it?" Prudence asked curiously as her friend handed it to her, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

"Do you recall when Bessy had a sour stomach?"

"Bessy?" Prudence shook her head with confusion. "Your horse?"

Eleanore nodded. "At the time the stablemaster was sure she had eaten something she shouldn't have. He procured this to help her remove it." When Prudence stared at her blankly, she sighed and elucidated. "This concoction encouraged her to bring it back up. It is an emetic."

Prudence's eyes widened incredulously. "You think I should give my father a horse emetic?"

The other girl hesitated, looking uncertain. "Perhaps it is a bad idea."

"Nay!" Prudence stood and moved swiftly out of reach when Ellie tried to grab the bottle back. Crossing the room, she peered at it with fascination. "A horse emetic."

"Prudence, I do not think…" Eleanore trailed her across the room anxiously.

"But it is perfect. It should have the same results with Papa, do you not think? How much did your stablemaster give Bessy? And how long before it took effect?"

Ellie grimaced. "A couple of spoonfuls. It took effect immediately, but a man is much smaller than Bessy. I do not think more than a drop or so should be used. I- Oh, Prudence, I do not think it should be used at all. This was a terrible idea. Please just give it to me and let us forget this."

"And shall you visit me in debtor's prison?" Prudence asked quietly, turning to face her friend. Eleanore paused, a struggle taking place on her face, until she gave in with a sigh-

"How will you administer it? For your plan to work, if it is going to work at all," she added dryly, "he must receive it while he is drinking. He does that at the club, for the most part. You just finished regaling me with your last foray into Ballard's. After tonight Plunkett will be on the lookout for you. Disguising yourself as a man will not work."

"Aye," Prudence murmured thoughtfully, then slowly smiled. "Plunkett will never again let me through Ballard's front door."


Turning away from the ale barrel, Prudence took a few steps, then paused to scowl down at her chest. Muttering under her breath, she balanced the tray with the single mug of ale in one hand, using the other to tug uselessly at the neckline of the white top she wore. Honestly, it was as indecent as could be, she thought impatiently, and wasted a moment wishing she had worn one of her own gowns. Of course, that was impossible. She had seen for herself that all the girls wore the same costume: the red skirt and rather blousy white top with a scoop neck. But this one seemed extremely scooped to Prudence. Her nipples were nearly showing!

Realizing it was a wasted effort, Prudence gave up tugging at the top. She had had to work hard for the use of the indecent outfit for the night. Well, not the whole night. Pru had assured the girl she would need to take her place for only a matter of moments, just long enough to get a message to the man she loved. That was what she had told the girl. Of course, the truth was that she wanted a way to deliver the emetic to her father, but she could hardly have told Lizzy that. The servant's gratitude for Pru's intervention with the hawk-faced man had stretched far enough for Lizzy to agree to loan her gown to Prudence and let her briefly take her place as a servant inside Ballard's, but she suspected it would not have done so had the girl known Pru's true intentions.

Prudence had salved her conscience about the lie by telling herself that it wasn't a complete falsehood. She did love her father, and the emetic was a message… of sorts.

Deciding it was a sad day indeed when a woman began lying to herself, Prudence moved out of the kitchen, then paused to peer around the club proper. She had waited outside the back entrance of the establishment the night before, doing her best to ignore the fact that she was standing in a dark, stinking alley as she had waited for the place to close and the workers to leave. Most of the women had left in pairs or groups. At last Lizzy had straggled out, all alone and one of the last to leave. When Prudence had recognized her as the serving woman that the hawk-faced man had been manhandling, she had pulled her cloak closer about herself and proceeded to follow. Trying to move silently, and staying in the shadows as much as possible, she had trailed the girl up the alley leading from the back of the building around to the front. She had followed Lizzy along several roads, grateful to know that Eleanore's driver was following her for protection-even more grateful that her friend had insisted she use the coach and the family's discreet driver for the excursion.

Once far enough away from the club that she thought no one from it would witness the exchange, she had approached the girl with a story of true love hampered by disapproving parents and her need to get a message to her lover. Lizzy had been sympathetic, but the girl was also the pragmatic sort and hadn't been willing to risk her job to aid in the escapade. Prudence had been forced to resort to bribery, doing her best not to wince as she had bartered away a necklace of some sentimental as well as monetary value. It had been a gift from her grandmother when she was still alive. But if the plan worked, it would be well worth the sacrifice, she assured herself. And she was determined that it would work. Of course, Ellie was positive that it would not. She felt sure that Prudence would be recognized and escorted from the property. But Prudence was of the opinion that no one paid any attention to servants. Neither Stockton nor her father would give her a second glance-she hoped.

There would be no negative thinking now, she remonstrated herself. So far everything had gone without a hitch. Lizzy had met her as promised, entered Eleanore's borrowed carriage, switched clothes with Prudence, and told her, Just walk in like ye belong. Grab an ale, so it looks like ye're working, find your lover, give him the message, and get back out here so I can get back to work. And don't get caught. I could lose me job if aught find out about this.

So Pru had walked in, doing her best to look as if she belonged there, grabbed an empty mug, then slipped back outside, where she had carefully administered a couple of drops of Bessy's tonic to the empty mug from the bottle presently strapped to her thigh. She had worried over that part. The bottle Eleanore had given her had been rather large to cart around unnoticed, so she had had to find a smaller one to place the liquid in. Then she had suffered a quandary about where to keep it. It had to be somewhere within easy access. Tied tightly to her thigh, upside down with two pieces of cloth, had seemed the safest place, which appeared to be working. She had doctored the empty mug, replaced the bottle, and slipped back inside, walking boldly up to the open ale barrel to fill the mug with yeasty brew.

"Well, now, what have we here?"

Prudence had just spotted her father at one of the tables when her view was blocked by a rather large, leering man. Forcing a smile, she tried to step around him, only to find her path blocked and herself maneuvered up against a wall.

"You must be new. I do not recognize you."

Prudence nearly groaned aloud, but caught herself. She truly did not need a half-drunk lout to pester her. "Excuse me, my lord, but I must deliver this drink."

"Ah, now, don't be so unfriendly." The man gave her a smile that Prudence forced herself to return, but then he moved in and reached around to grope her behind in far too familiar a fashion. A squeak of alarm slipping from her lips, Prudence immediately grabbed at his hand.