The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,4

child, although she supposed she had been trespassing in those days.

She rounded the pond where several white willows crowded the water’s edge, shielding a good portion of the water from the sun. Nora was well familiar with these particular willows. She’d harvested willow bark from them regularly every spring, even before Warrington had taken residence at Haverston Hall . . . before he met and subsequently married Marian.

Papa had been the one to show her how such a thing was done . . . and where all the willows were to be found in the shire. At least in so far as he knew. The closest willow tree to her house no longer thrived. Papa had foraged from it every spring until it had finally died.

She’d been delighted when she one day looked up during her swim to notice the trio of willow trees. She had at once set about harvesting the bark, but judiciously. She had no wish for the trees to perish for the sake of medicine. What good would it do anyone if she harvested the bark too aggressively and destroyed the trees?

And of course, there was her work.

Willow bark was a common ingredient for many of her experimental tonics. She was constantly researching ways in which to improve the suffering among the injured and ill. It had been an area of particular interest for her father, and she had taken up the banner.

She winced as she considered the tonic she had made for Charlotte. She had thought it quite harmless. Willow bark had been among its components. All the ingredients she had used before. Some together. Some apart. And yet nothing strange or new. She only altered the levels from previous variations.

And yet how that tonic had dramatically altered the course of Charlotte’s life.

Historically, her sister suffered from terrible cramping in the days preceding her menses. Nora felt as though she were close to a breakthrough when she delivered a new mixture to her sister, hopeful that this particular concoction might mitigate her pains. Nora had in no way anticipated the most incredible outcome.

She winced again. Nora did indeed reduce her sister’s cramping, but she also created a host of other symptoms for which she could not have accounted. She might approach life with a clinical eye and have a strong grasp of the workings of the human body, but she was still a maid. She had never given a great deal of thought to matters such as arousal.

Never had she considered lust to be such an altering and powerful condition, where an individual’s physical state could outweigh her mental faculties, but that is precisely what had happened to Charlotte when she took Nora’s tonic.

Nora had invented an aphrodisiac.

Incredible as such a thing sounded, it was true. Nora had catapulted her shy, reticent sister into the throes of desire. Thankfully, such a circumstance had not resulted in anything dire. Quite the opposite.

When Nora considered the situation, she could only feel inordinately pleased with herself. Because of her tonic, Charlotte was blissfully in love and happily married and mother to a healthy child. Perhaps it was bigheaded of her, but she could not help herself. Wrong or right, she was proud of herself—or rather, proud of her tonic. Even if she didn’t know what to do with it now. She couldn’t very well go about dosing people with an aphrodisiac, after all.

Still, her talents had never brought about such marvelous results before. As far as she knew she had helped people through their ailments, but saved no lives. It made her feel warm inside to know she had played a role in bringing about Charlotte and Kingston’s happy union . . . and the life of her niece. She felt giddy at the knowledge.

Nora stood back and carefully evaluated the three trees, noting the areas where she had harvested bark before. Biting her lip, she worried the tender flesh just as she worried over permanently damaging the trees. Papa had warned her against foraging too forcefully. She could cripple the tree and that would not be the thing at all.

She continued to appraise the three trees, marking the lighter skinned patches where bark had been removed from the trunks in previous years. “Well,” she announced to herself. She was guilty of talking to herself whilst she worked. “It must be done.” But done right.

The only right way was to climb high up the tree to collect bark off some of the upper branches that had been spared