Eyes upon Chelsea | 11ish 25th Christmas- Xmas 1677

[Guest]

John knew very little of Nicolette’s arts. Perhaps they could sit down and she could explain it at length, but for the moment John simply wanted to encourage her attention to the matter. He felt close to something he’d painfully desired his entire life and that induced a certain degree of anxiousness itself.

 

But there was no more than a hint of it, and John seemed happy, as he often was in her presence. Until the man behind the desk spoke up. He seemed to disapprove of them for some reason and John looked confused. He looked briefly at Nicolette to see if she knew what was going on.

 

John smiled over the man regardless. John let out a puff as Nicolette made to leave, “Nonsense. D-d-don’t you want to meet the... head of the Society of Apothecaries?” John said. He began to stroll in the direction the man indicated. He didn’t mind her being there for his business. It wasn’t secret or private. “Besides, some of my business c-c-concerns your shop.” It actually concerned all apothecary shops. But Nicolette’s shop was one of them.

[Guest]

The librarian watched the pair go with a certain sense of relief. Whilst their search for knowledge might have been earnest, the young pair were far too… distractible. Not that he could blame the fellow, the young lady was quite the looker, but he’d never admit that to anyone, least of all his wife!

 

Outside the weather was cold but sunny. A brisk breeze necessitated warm clothing, and the marbled sky warned that the pleasant sunshine might be short lived. The gardens themselves were laid out in a logical, pleasing manner, with signs denoting the themes of the various plantings and little placards providing information on the individual specimens.

 

The Island Endemic Flora was housed in a section surrounded on the north side by a stone wall which absorbed the heat of the sun and radiated it back into the garden, creating a warmer microclimate than the rest of London enjoyed. Such was essential for the survival of plants from more tropical climes.

 

Two men were regarding the planting with serious expressions. Both wore large, sensible coats against the wintery weather. The terribly serious scene was lightened somewhat by the fact that one of them was wearing a red and orange striped wool scarf and matching bobble-hat, obviously knitted with love if not a great deal of fashion sense.

 

“It’s just frustrating, is what it is!” Said bobble-hat. “The blasted things come halfway around the world and we’re just not providing the right environment.” He was a heavy-set man with an air of determination, and glared at a section of the garden bed as though he felt it had personally failed him.

 

“We knew there was a limit. Without another glasshouse there will always be some species that simply cannot be cultivated in these climes.” Said the thinner of the two men, who wore a deer-stalker with the side flaps let down to keep his ears warm. He put the stem of his pipe back in his mouth with an air of finality.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

"That is who is in the garden?" Nicolette sounded a bit surprised by this overlap of duties. To her mind, which elevated all things Apothecarian, the 'High Master of' would be sitting in an oversize wing-backed leather chair somewhere, probably warm. But, apparently he was out in the garden, risking frost bite! The Frenchling changed her mind, and murmured quietly a "...mmm, yes please, I come with you."

 

Tagging along with John, Nicolette did a little covert primping, with intents to make a good first impression. Pinching her cheeks, smoothing her hair. Meanwhile John was acting a bit mysterious, "How is your business my business too?" she did a double skip to catch up with him, but then already they were in sight of a pair of gardeners.

 

The scarf might have been forgiven, but the hat took it to the next level. Nicci bit her lip, imagining Bobble Hat's struggle to keep a straight face when he'd opened that 'lovely gift'. From his wife, or daughter perhaps. Her eyes swung to John, they were talking lack of glasshouse problems, perhaps he'd have a temporary solution? Covertly again, she crossed her fingers.

[Guest]

John smiled as she changed her mind. “I’ll be g-g-g-lad for the company.” And he was. She had elevated a simple political visit into something far more enjoybale.

 

He noticed Nicolette primping and grinned. “You l-l-look beautiful.” He offered his arm as she skipped up next to him. John wasn’t purposefully being mysterious, and would’ve elaborated, but they were in front of the men before he could say much. “You’ll see.”

 

John looked at Nicolette when they saw the hat. The young lord was not a dandy but even he had more sense than that. Still, John liked it, in a ridiculous sort of way. It was, in an odd sense, a sign of love. He surely loved whoever had made him that hat deeply, for he'd thrown dignity away for them. Just like Henrietta and the goose.

 

“What is the p-p-plant? What does it need?” John asked, rife with curiosity, trying to peak around the men (one of whom was rather too large to peak around easily). “And where is it… from?” When the two looked at the newcomers, John said, “The Lord Maldon and Mistress Vauquelin. We were t-t-told the Master was out… here.”

[Guest]

The serious looking men glanced up in unison at the question, regarding the well-dressed young couple for a moment. Deer-stalker sucked thoughtfully at his pipe, interrogating his memory as to whether he should know them, but bobble-hat recognised a fellow enthusiast and launched into an explanation.

 

“Well, just about anything from the tropics gives us trouble, but in this case it’s the Red Bugloss, which is a dratted awkward thing.” He opined, gesturing to a slightly sad looking plant with grey-green leaves. “Magnificent in its native habitat, but rather recalcitrant here.”

 

It was John’s introduction that caused a faint light of recognition in deer-stalker’s eyes; not of him but of his companion. Mistress Vauquelin, is it indeed? Well well, how interesting. That was a name he knew. Lord Maldon was unknown to him but clearly well bred and presumably of some title and estate or linked to some, to be so titled. Well well well.

 

“And he is indeed.” Deer-stalker said finally, taking his pipe out of his mouth and giving them a faint smile. “John Battersby, at your service.” He bowed politely. “And my enthusiastic colleague is Henry Miller, our Chief Gardener and current architect of all that you survey.” He gestured to the gardens at large.

 

“Well, one does one’s best.” Henry murmured, glaring at the offending echium in the garden bed rather than meet their gaze, suddenly embarassed. Sometimes even his best wasn’t enough.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

A warm smile was his, just as he had given her a warm feeling from his words. Still, she knew better than to simply believe him, and completed her fussing, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. What manner of man would the Head of the Society of Apothecaries be?

 

It did not take long before she found out.

 

He was the manner of man to stand in the middle of a garden, solemnly discussing the fate of a sad plant.

 

The frenchwoman dipped a curtsy, "A pleasure to meet you Sir." well ok, he was not actually knighted, but surely should be, and might even would be. His name, was familiar, she'd seen it on journals. It was always a mistake to think that these published sage writers were already dead. Here he was, looking very much alive, and in vigorous good health.

 

John for his part asked questions before giving any recommendation, which was probably the prudent course. Nicolette however (perhaps through failing of her sex) spoke more rashly. "Can't it be nursed indoors, if not here, then at someone's home?" she leaned forwards to look at it's leaves, seeing if it resembled anything she was familiar with. "Mmm, or, what healing properties does it contain? Perhaps it is not of use to us here. So often the remedies grow close to the maladies. Could this be nature telling us that this plant is not..." whoops, she was talking too much. Halting herself, she gave a small, hopefully bidable-looking smile. Men rarely enjoyed a woman who had an opinion.

[Guest]

“A p-p-pleasure.” John said at the introduction, “And you as well.” To the gardener.

 

John’s eyes seemed to light up in the discussion, even as his smile creased into consideration. Nicolette had some very good suggestions, “Could it d-d-do well in… a p-p-place meant to receive Spanish and warmer sorts of colonial plants?” Because John had those. Sophia too. “What sort of square… f-f-footage do you need?”

 

John let out a small puff of air when Nicolette suddenly stopped speaking and smiled, as if hoping to charm them into forgiveness. “You m-m-must forgive Mistress Vauquelin. She thinks, because she’s a woman, you won’t… take her seriously.”

 

“Though I d-d-do think that plants ought to be brought wherever they can be. I greatly enjoy exotics.” John commented, with a smile. Cavendish women were often well educated and often developed strong personalities. For good or for ill.

[Guest]

"The Red Bugloss is not, in fact, medicinal." Battersby revealed with a faint, slightly condescending smile at the young lady's obvious enthusiasm. Ah but clearly she had a keen interest in herbalism.

 

"It's one of the more magnificent ornamentals." Miller added, as Maldon explained their position a little.

 

"Oh quite the contrary." Battersby replied, taking a pull of his pipe. "I've heard some very interesting things about Mistress Vauquelin; indeed I've been looking forward to the pleasure of finally meeting her." He said, hazel eyes regarding Nicci thoughtfully.

 

Miller meanwhile seemed to have latched onto Maldon's questions about cultivation. "You see, that's one of the peculiar things about it. Whilst technically tropical, it grows on the upper slopes of a volcano, and actually prefers a cooler climate. What it doesn't like is the wet." Which England had plenty of. "I'm wondering whether it might benefit from some better draining soil; even volcanic rocks if we can get them." He mused, mostly to himself.

 

"You'll be familiar with the striking blue spikes of Viper's Bugloss." Miller continued; indeed it was a popular European ornamental plant. "The Red Bugloss far surpasses them in both hue and size. Quite magnificent. If we can get it to flower." Miller grumbled. "But clearly you're a man after my own heart." He took the liberty of indicating Maldon.

 

"The more we share and cultivate plants from around the world, the more we understand; in medicine, in botany and in culture." Battersby agreed with the gentleman's sentiment.

 

As he spoke a smattering of rain began to fall. He looked up at it and frowned, taking his pipe out of his mouth. "Best we repair to the greenhouse till this passes." He opined. He and Henry weren't worried, but the nobility might object to getting wet.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

Non medicinal plants were like unscented flowers in Nici's opine, yes they existed, but why. She met Battersea's derisive smile with an elegant sigh, "What a shame, a flower's life is fleeting, but those that cure are treasured beyond their briefness." Combatting his contempt with niceness was all the young lady could do.

 

She was glad she'd stopped talking when she had, though the gesture was undone as John found a need to explain her to everyone. Embarrassing. Then worse, as Battersea said he'd heard about her. Naturally her heart beat accelerated at that moment, good word never preceded - what had he heard?!

 

She drew a breath, flight was not an option, all she could do was face the unknown.

 

"You may know my cousin purchased the Golden Pestle, and has put an end ot the court case against it." Perhaps Battersea was aligned with the lucrative RCP and was displeased that the Apothecary had naroly escaped being shut down.

 

"We are a customer of the Physic, I hope that arrangement may continue."

 

Meanwhile Maldon went on to talk about the ornamental, which was no doubt academically interesting. She however was rather more focused on potentially loosing her primary supplier. Louis was lackluster of the Golden Pestle as it was, was likely to shut it down and open an outlet for his sugar there instead.

[Guest]

John was unaware of Nicolette’s panic. In his mind, they had just promised to take her seriously in her trade. Coming from the head of her trade guild, that was an important acknowledgment.

 

John listened intently to Miller’s explanation. They were already in one of the dryer parts of England, but dry was relative, and England was rainy in general. “Volcanic rock?” John repeated, “Why c-c-couldn’t you get some soil out of… Wales or Scotland?” There were no active volcanoes in Britain but there was dry, fast draining, high altitude soil there.

 

"Or what about... lowland sandy soil?" Those were something John was more familiar with. It was from wet regions and drained very quickly because of the amount of water that normally flooded in. It could be poor nutritionally, though it was ideal for hardy vegetables.

 

John nodded. He did know about the Viper’s Bugloss. And he definitely wanted to see this red one flower, though he sought exotic plants generally. He nodded with excited agreement to Battersby’s comments.

 

John was confused by what Nicci said, though. His brow furrowed, “Why w-w-wouldn’t it continue?” Is something going on? John couldn't imagine the apothecaries were about to cut off her supply. Firstly because nothing had happened to warrant such a measure. Secondly because it would displease both Louis and John.

 

If it was warm enough to be rain, he obviously didn’t need his winter coat. He took it off and gently put it over Nicolette to protect her from the shower. He smiled at her briefly. John was actually very accustomed to the outdoors and the wetness wouldn’t bother him. “Lead the way.” John said to Battersby.

[Guest]

Was there a change in Battersby's expression at Nicolette's words? "You're quite right." He agreed with her view on non-medicinal flowers. "But it is diversity that prospers. We appreciate the true power of medicinals, but the eye-catching appeal more to those unversed in such knowledge." And from the wealthy unversed came some of their customers and donations. If they could flower and propagate the Red Bugloss, it could prove quite profitable.

 

Battersby listened to Nicci with that same vague smile. "I do indeed recall the name, quite a to-do around it." He said, in reference to the Golden Pestle. "We observed developments with interest." Her patron haad told the blasted Royal College to get back in their collective box. Clearly this Basildon was a man of some influence. "No, I feel it would be profitable for both for our professional relationship to continue, though there are matters around it that we should discuss. Perhaps you'd care to join me one afternoon?" Rather than discuss it in front of Maldon and Miller.

 

Who were discussing the Red Bugloss. "We're trialling smaller specimens in different media, but we're not having a great deal of luck. I'm thinking a raised bed with rocky soil might be the next thing we try." He shrugged. This was his life, he didn't want to bore the lord. "I take it you've an interest in exotics yourself m'Lord?"

 

The indifference mizzle that London was famous for drove the little group into the greenhouse where they were surrounded by many delicate, heat-loving tropicals, both smaller examples and a few larger ones. London's climate was such that it rarely dropped below freezing and, if it snowed, it was generally in February, although this year had been particularly cold. A portent perhaps? Inside it was pleasantly warm if very humid; outside the freezing, falling mist was a virtual guarantee of an ague.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

Ranelagh was likely such a man. No, he was definitely the man. "Ah." Nicolette nodded with understanding, her eyes sliding towards yonder Ranelagh manor, knowing the patron of the gardens abode was so prestigiously placed. Briefly she considered name dropping...

 

"Better a name remembered, than not." she alleged, straightening her spine, and venturing a smile, "It shall not be the last time The Golden Pestle finds itself in the papers, though the next shall be more positive I hope. I've a range under development that is bound to cause a stir - my cousin at least, one of these 'unversed' ones you talk of, is quite excited of it."

 

She walked alongside the Master, while John and the Gardner continued their talk of the plant trouble.

 

Quietly she replied, "I am pleased of this." she eased some as he seemed to relax the pressure off. He seemed to take a neutral stance for now. Nicolette met his eyes and gave a small nod to his deferment of that discussion though, this was not the time to air laundry. "I could give you a tour of the premises, Master Battersby. I would appreciate your comments upon the work in development."

 

Giving her cloak a shake as they arrived to the glasshouse, Nicolette paused to look around.

[Guest]

Nicolette and Battersby’s conversation seemed the more interesting of the two to John, but they seemed determined to carry it on privately and later. Well, John would not pry. He made a noise of interest as he heard rocky soil was next. He would be curious to see how it turned out.

 

Still, John let out a small chuckle at the man’s question. “In a wider sense.” John replied. John had gained a bit of a taste for the exotic in general… though his threshold for ‘exotic’ was laughably low.

 

They went inside the greenhouse and John observed the construction of the building. He’d already seen the King’s, but that was obviously done up to impress visitors as much as preserve the plants. The gilding was not for the plants’ benefit. This place seemed more practical, though still obviously done up for visitor’s benefit.

 

They went inside and the conversation seemed to come to a lull, “I’ve c-c-come here for… two reasons.” John said, “The first is I need… apothecaries or botanists willing to be placed on merchant ships to identify and b-b-bring back exotic plants.”

 

“The second is that I was t-t-told your charter doesn’t… allow you to sell your wares without a d-d-doctor’s permission? Or some such nonsense.” John didn’t bring up that Nicolette had told him. He would let her position herself as she pleased. “I was wondering if you’d l-l-like to revise it to give you such privileges.” Actually, John had already made inquiries and had ideas. But it was important that it seem like their idea.

[Guest]

Unaware of the direction of Nicolette’s thoughts, Battersby listened with interest as she spoke of her establishment and her plans. “Always better remembered than not.” He agreed. “And notoriety itself can be excellent advertising.” So long as the rumours weren’t too bad. Perhaps the young lady would benefit from a guiding hand in her venture, he mused. So long as she were cooperative.

 

“I should be interested to see your establishment.” He allowed. She seemed eager to please. “Perhaps Monday morning? Let us continue to speak then. I feel that there is much that we can do to build on our professional relationship.” There was definite potential there, but he wouldn’t bore her companion with such talk now. It was worth investigating in the future.

 

Said companion meanwhile appeared to be deep in conversation with the Head Gardener, though Maldon carefully extracted himself from that conversation and raised the reason for his visit when opportunity presented itself. The proposal was given due thought. “That sounds like quite the venture my Lord.” Battersby replied politely. “Are these your merchant vessels?” Fielding a single ship was no small financial matter. “I daresay that an adventurous soul could be found, if appropriate remuneration and insurance were offered.” He allowed.

 

Ah, the matter of jurisdiction; no small issue that. “Our Charter does not, in fact, prohibit the independent prescription and dispensation of medicines.” Battersby assured Maldon, having read the document himself. “Rather that is the position of the Royal College of Physicians, who maintain that they own a monopoly on the understanding of the Human Condition.” His humourless little smile was back. The Physicians were often gentry themselves, or at least rather wealthy, and difficult for the Apothecaries to fight.

 

“That position has, thus far, been supported. If you were able to change that, then I daresay the entire Society would be grateful.” And able to show that gratitude in certain ways. Who knew, perhaps Maldon could? But he would be taking on the Physicians and their wealthy supporters.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

"I shall look forward to your visit, perhaps around ten." Nicolette was indeed pleased - and no doubt would excitably rush to tell her cousin about the opportunity to make a good impression upon the Master. But for now she tried to play it cool. For now she turned towards Lord Maldon, and pulled a 'did you hear that?!' (in a happy way) face.

 

She'd need to send a note to the apprentice, she'd need him to give the whole place a once over between now and then.

 

She fell hush to hear out Lord Maldon's initiatives then. That of shipping was news to her. While the other was known, the question though seemed misplaced, but the Masters reply settled that. Had she given John the wrong impression when she'd told him about it, for she had already known that it was the RCP that was making lives difficult for Apotecharitists, it had been the RCP that sued the previous owner of the now renamed Golden Pestle .

 

She smiled, and nodded in agreement.

[Guest]

John smiled back at Nicolette. He was happy to see her happy. He was happy too in having brought them together. He really did have every confidence in Nicolette’s skills and hoped she would bring them into full bloom.

 

As for who would be paying for all this, “No, it’s actually the idea of a p-p-partner in a shipping company. He deals in America and Africa and, so l-l-long as it doesn’t interfere too much in his normal shipping routes, has offered berths and a b-b-bit of space on his ships.” He also had spoken of the possibility of an expedition, but whether John would be involved in that depended.

 

“He t-t-told me he wants a new tulip.” As in that silliness the Dutch had suffered last century. John shrugged in a ‘who knows’ sort of way, “But I shall t-t-tell him you shall provide what the needs, then.” And if he could get the diplomatic permissions done then everything, as far as John knew, would be more or less in place.

 

As for the RCP, the two had had a small miscommunication at the shop. Before she could wholly clarify, they’d been distracted from the details by the turmoil of their relationship and Nicci’s pursuit of the King. At any rate, it was resolved easily enough. “Ah, what is it then? Is there a l-l-law? Is it in their charter?” If the word royal was meant to provide a clue John didn’t pick up on it. All monopolies, charters, and patents were subject to Parliament so he imagined this as a legislative matter. But he only knew there had been a lawsuit. He didn’t know the specifics.

 

“Excellent.” John said to Battersby, “Now I n-n-need a few things from you. First I’d like you to get together a petition of apothecaries and, ideally, as m-m-many other guilds and merchants as you can, maybe the lord mayor…” John was wandering, “A petition requesting redress.”

 

“Secondly, I think I c-c-can win several important people if I can offer your agreement to p-p-provide your medicines at discount or on easy… terms to charity and the military.” The doctors might be wealthy but the apothecaries had medicine. And the doctors would look petty if they refused to serve charity or help the military over this issue, especially with the spirit of the season and the upcoming war.

 

“Lastly, I think it’d be g-g-grand if you hosted an event here next season t-t-to show off the knowledge of apothecaries and d-d-draw attention to the issue.” There was a lot of them but none of them, individually, seemed unreasonable to John. “I know at l-l-least one lady who’s a sublime hostess who hasn’t g-g-gotten to throw an event in some time.” John looked to Nicolette who, he presumed, was his ally in this.

[Guest]

“Ten would be eminently suitable.” John Battersby allowed. “I will see you then.” It would be interesting to view the establishment now that the Lady had taken it as her own, and see what had been done with the place in the interim. He would also be interested to see exactly how it was being run.

 

Meanwhile John spoke of merchant expeditions and a hunt for a new tulip. As with the Red Bugloss, Battersby knew the value of such a specimen, to the right person. But the ships weren’t his, Maldon was acting as an intermediary. “Perhaps your partner would like to discuss the employment proposal with me directly?” He suggested. Issues such as pay, insurance against death abroad and, of course, the Society’s cut would need to be negotiated before any agreement could be made.

 

The Master’s small, humourless smile reappeared when John declared that he needed a few things from the Apothecaries in order to progress his plan. Indeed, he appeared to need a great many things; Battersby was all too familiar with the type of person who sought to get others to do the work for their ideas, and then take the credit.

 

“I’m afraid, my Lord, that those of us who work for a living have little enough time to devote to the drafting of petitions and the like. As for the military, we already have an exclusive relationship with the Navy, and an excellent customer base amongst the regiments, so there’s little to improve there. As you note, we have the medicines.” And so could largely charge what they liked.

 

Still, if Maldon could do what he claimed, it was an opportunity not to be passed up. “Allow me to propose an alternative. As a no doubt highly educated member of the leisured class, you could do the kindness of drawing up the relevant petition. I can then see it circulated amongst the membership for the appropriate signatures. You would then submit it to Parliament. And, if it were to pass and permit us to practice our medicine without fear of the Royal College, I daresay you would be quite the hero to the Society. In fact, I do not doubt that our botanists particularly would be grateful, and suddenly eager to adventure abroad.”

 

Which was what politics was all about. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. If Maldon could see the Royal College leashed, Battersby would ensure that there would be botanists aplenty for his merchant expeditions.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

Nicolette moved a little closer to John Battersby at that time, unconsciously done perhaps, as she felt the beginnings of an affinity with him.

 

Indeed as she listened to Lord Maldon's reply and then (considerable) list of 'requirements', she glanced back to the man of deerstalker hat, her expression restrained but for slight flaring of eyes.

 

It was plain enough to her that Lord Maldon was very comfortable dishing out orders, a fault of his indulged class perhaps. As a girl with frugal beginnings, her outlook was rather different (although she had every intention of becoming as indulged as Lord Maldon one day!)

 

Her smile was held in place, as Master Battersby deftly walked the fine line, managing the list against his own schedule and plans, and reaching a fair judgment quite as excellently as wise King Solomon might have.

 

Smiling between all the gentlemen present she said "You are plainly a most charitable Lord, Lord Maldon." they had all just heard him figure he could solve everyone's problems within a single breath. In this he showed a large heart, yet also, youthful naivety. Peoples problems, challenges, became personal, and it a point of pride for them to mange them for themselves. For instance Nicolette did not want John to organise her to arrange parties. Thankfully Battersby did not comment of that - perhaps he'd felt her tense at the suggestion? To be safe though, she attempted Maldon's redirection.

 

"Perhaps in replacement to the apothecary party you wish to sponsor, you instead make a donation of a new greenhouse for specimens such as this suffering flower. It might be called the Maldon Glass House perhaps, and you can have a ribbon cutting celebration at opening next spring."

[Guest]

John nodded. “Once everything is in order I’m sure he’ll w-w-want to meet.” But, being the one with more experience in plants, John had been trusted with getting a supply of botanists together.

 

John’s gaze cooled and hardened a little at Battersby’s practiced smile. It was easy enough to recognize from earlier. “I’m sure they’ll be even more grateful for your… additional help then.” Just because they were already selling didn’t mean credit or price adjustments weren’t appreciated. And that appreciation would show in support.

 

He smiled at the man’s counterproposal, “Of c-c-course I’ll be dealing with the p-p-politics of the thing. I just need you t-t-to give me the tools to bring the support you'll need. And I c-c-can draft the petition so long as you’ll take the credit for it and see it well signed.” Such a thing was beneath John’s dignity. “With that, we are in agreement on all three p-p-points then.” John said. "Excellent. I'm sure the soldiery and the p-p-poor will appreciate it." And, if Battersby was entirely selfish, their officers and those concerned with them would be a powerful support.

 

John’s tone was amiable at Battersby’s attempt to speak of his own potential help, “Oh, I'm quite sure they w-w-would be eager in any case. It's quite an opportunity and I d-d-do so want to say nice things when I'm asked how it went." If not, there were other sources of botanists, or John could try coercion. Politics was a game of leverage too. Battersby did not have much.

 

Nicolette had migrated to the other side it seemed. His look was a bit questioning as Nicolette seemed perturbed by something. "Charitable?" John repeated back, confused. She brought up the glass house. "Ah, we'll see. Do you n-n-not want to help? Is something the m-m-matter?" John asked, concerned.

[Guest]

Battersby put his pipe back in his mouth and the rich scent of tobacco floated on the damp air. The breeze picked up, dropping the temperature and outside the mizzle began to drift rather more slowly, changing from rain to sleet and then to drifting snowflakes. Slowly, the gardens were dusted with white, a quiet winter wonderland.

 

The Master was interested to hear the young lady suggest the donation of a greenhouse instead of Maldon’s proposed party. Perhaps he had not discussed it with her before hand? She drifted closer to his side, though he pretended not to notice. His attention was focused on the man who had perhaps sprung that surprise on her.

 

But the man seemed to be full of surprises, promising a meeting with his merchant partner once everything was ‘in order’. Everything what? John had twice asked for Maldon’s proposal and had yet to receive one. It was really quite bizarre. “Well then, perhaps you’ll be kind enough to tell me exactly what you’re proposing with regards to the employ of our botanists?” He suggested pointedly. Third time lucky.

 

And, just in case, Battersby decided to spell it out. “I mean in terms of wages and assurances, of course. Ten pounds per month, plus a hundred pound assurance against death abroad is reasonable for a Society botanist, and a fifty percent share of any samples returned.” Battersby was nowhere near as sure as Maldon of his botanist’s eagerness to join the expedition, not without an offer of payment. No man worked for free, and certainly not a qualified member of the Society.

 

Unless, of course, the Society owed him a debt. “We have an understanding.” He said on the subject of the Royal College’s restrictions. “You will supply the petition and the political push, I will supply the signatures. If you can recommend a particular charity where our assistance would be visible then I will certainly consider it. And, should you prove successful, the Society will provide your expedition with the services of three botanists, free of charge. Retaining our right to our share of the recovered samples, of course.” It was, he felt, a way in which they could each help each other quite handsomely.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

True enough that Nicolette swayed to the side of the Apotarists, there lay her passion, and her ultimate dream was to become their neighbour. She was not about to ruffle their feathers, infact felt her own feathers ruffled at the tone John was using. It was as though he did not respect the many years of knowledge that Battersby had. "And no doubt the agreement with the RCP has been tenderly arranged..." she murmured, hoping that John picked up gist. ie. the current situation was no doubt one that Battersby had worked hard to have his sway in.

 

She far prefered the mens focus to be upon dreary topic of ships and mariner botanists, and as they dipped deeper into figures she turned and moved apart a little, looking back out the doors at the shifting landscape.

 

Snowflakes softly fell. She reached a gloved hand out to catch... then turned back as she heard John was again addressing her.

 

She answered with a smile and shake of head, "I am not one to arrange parties Lord Maldon, my Cousin insisted I arrange his event last season, which was bad enough - and an absolute disaster. Perhaps one of your society ladies can do it for you... although I think Master Battersby has no interest, yes? La! But this is why I suggested you invest attention to the poor plant dieing in the snow instead. At least, earlier it seemed as though you were concerned..." And she'd thought John might like the kudos of a building in the Physic named after him.

 

Nicci certainly would - which was a penny-dropping thought.

 

"Perhaps I shall raise money for a glasshouse instead? I quite think I could. Master Battersby, if I did, might it be named the Vauquelin Glass House?"

[Guest]

John had heard Battersby not ask after the specific details but ask for a meeting. John had told him that not all his figures were in order so he would have to wait until then. He instead decided to dicker with John.

 

But John smiled easily, “The insurance and wages w-w-will be determined by the people you supply. But the figures d-d-don’t seem unreasonable for top quality.” John had never expected anyone to work for free. “As for the specimens, you’ll have an even share with the others involved, l-l-less the value of what’s paid otherwise.” Nor had he expected to exclude the Society from the fruits of the expedition.

 

That was much the point to why they’d be eager. Joining in was, itself, going to be rewarding.

 

“Excellent.” John repeated. As for merely considering his arrangements, “I will b-b-bring you nothing that will not serve you. And you w-w-will not undermine my authority to speak on your behalf p-p-politically by reneging on what I’ve arranged. Not if you want this to have any success.” John said bluntly. He had, after all, been the one to ask for that, not John.

 

John’s brow furrowed as he offered three botanists free of charge, “What? They’d work without wages?” John was surprised by the thought.

 

“As you wish.” John said easily when Nicolette begged off the party. He wasn’t sure what to make when she suggested ‘one of his society ladies’. As for Battersby, “Even if you have no interest, it w-w-will do well to draw attention to you. And we can show off what specimens we have. It will help show that you have knowledge as d-d-deep as a doctor’s.” He explained his rationale, realizing this was what the man was after.

 

John did not say everything he intended to do. It was better to return with money than to promise to return with money, or even to return with money after promising it. But John smiled at Nicci’s comment, “Ah, now there’s a capital idea. A much p-p-prettier name.” John said. He really had little interest in calling it the Maldon Glass House. “Though you m-m-might want to ask how much money they want before you say you can raise it.” He said with an indulgent smile.

 

John had the advantage that building a glasshouse was within his skills. Since he'd only need materials and labor, it would've been relatively cheap. It would be interesting to see how the Apothecaries planned to do it.

[Guest]

Ah, the life of the privileged, it did so bleed over into the way people spoke. “On the contrary my Lord. The quality – and quantity – of individuals interested in the positions will depend on the conditions offered.” Battersby replied mildly. “You see, our Botanists are their own people, and shall wish to know the details of your adventure before they put their hands up for it. I shall look forward to receiving your proposal.” And that really was that. Once he had those details the Master could progress the matter; until then he had nothing to work with.

 

It seemed the young lady wasn’t particularly interested in organising the party, that explained her reticence. “We have certainly hosted events in the gardens before. One Doctor Winchester hired them for a Scientific Soiree, summer last year.” He revealed. “It was quite popular. I suppose the question is whether showcasing the Gardens is relevant to the question of jurisdiction of prescription.” He mused. Certainly the idea of hosting some sort of event – perhaps in spring when the gardens were at their best – held merit.

 

He was a little surprised then at the young Lady’s sudden proposal. “But certainly my dear. Anyone kind enough to donate a glasshouse to the gardens would have the privilege of having it named after them, and opened with all appropriate ceremony.” The Apothecaries were hardly ungrateful to their benefactors, as Battersby went on to confirm for Maldon.

 

“The bringing to heel of the Royal College and the official sanctioning of the apothecaries’ practice would be a considerable boon to the Society.” It would mean a considerable increase in income for both the Society and its members. “We would hardly be ungrateful, and in the circumstances could afford to cover the botanists’ wages ourselves.” He assumed that was why Maldon had offered to help in the first place.

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

The snowflake melted near instantly upon her fingertip, leaving a tiny wet patch on her glove. "La, I do not think the Physic needs to prove itself, rather it's success is the reason the RCP is so keen to cripple them." She said to John as he continued trying to convince Battersby that they needed to self promote.

 

Perhaps it was Johns perspective, he was not in the industry, so he did not realise the Kudos that Chelsea Physic already had.

 

"I would think that rather than trying to aggrandize the Physic, to downplay their prominence would better serve. The RCP needs to relax their ... ah, uptightness. Lessen their restrictions. If I may be frank gentleman, I do not think a petition signed by apothecaries will mean anything to the RCP, they already know they are unpopular with the apothecarists. I would think they way to resolve this would be with reassurances to the RCP that their own jobs are not at risk from, but instead are supported, or enhanced by, the humble shopfront commonly selling their medicine. Why..."

 

"Why... perhaps RCP Doctors might even work with their local apothecary, in symbiosis, like lichen, not one but two plants that live together." but she was getting carried away. And really, such things were in the male domain - it was highly unlikely that the words of a woman would come to anything. Still, she felt satisfied from exercising her mind after saying this.

 

"But, any measure that may improve the lot of the apothecary shops would be grand. Mmm... but you do not dispense from this place do you?" she asked Battersby.

 

Earlier on John spoken as though Chelsea Physic was a retail front, while Nicci had thought it was wholesaler. The roles of retail and wholesale being very different - and naturally Nicci had heard warning bells when John suggested Chelsea phyic cut their own prices to their own clients, which would make regular Apotahrist traders pricing them seem overpriced in compare. Unless he expected the individual shops to also drop their prices too. All in all Nicci feared John was the proverbial bull in a china shop, and she wanted him to leave the subject alone.

 

"But tell us more about the shipping plans, what countries are on the itinerary, what plants do you seek?" she tried to distract John to his own field of expertise.

 

Yet to the Glasshouse idea, Nicci was thrilled.

 

"I am sure it shall cost a lot." she nodded to John, her smile growing wider as the idea was received by all so favorably, "And what of you, Master Miller? Would another glass house assist with your troubles... why, in the meantime you can send some plants in need to my cousins house in Pall mall. We have rooms to spare, and he is quite used to my unexpected guests." Nicolette grinned of that.

[Guest]

John just smiled and nodded. And likewise Battersby would be in competition against other sources of botanists because, unlike with apothecaries, he did not have a monopoly. John still didn’t imagine they were disagreeing about anything.

 

John's wasn't quite sure what to make of Battersby's silence. He decided to take it as a sign of defiance, noncompliance at the very least. He decided to try and force the issue, “I’ll m-m-make good use of that then. Thank you for your t-t-trust.”

 

Battersby seemed lukewarm on the party and Nicolette argued against it. This was in his mind the first genuine disagreement they’d had. “I thought d-d-doctors justify their c-c-control by saying you are n-n-not capable of knowing what to dispense without their expertise. I’d thought showing your own expertise w-w-would prove otherwise. But you know b-b-better than I, no doubt. We shall forget that then.” He agreed.

 

As for the Society paying their wages, “I see.” John said slowly, like someone badly trying to cover a lack of understanding. He was still baffled by the idea of having tradesmen work for him without pay.

 

The petition was for Parliament. It was evidence that John hadn’t gotten some silly notion in his head but was responding to a genuine request. As, indeed, he was. But John listened intently to Nicolette's desire to transform the apothecaries into lichen on the doctor's trunk. “How w-w-would you go about causing that to happen?” John asked of her vision. And how would giving them legal rights hinder it?

 

John didn’t think they dispensed from here and he made no comment at Nicolette’s question. John had been treating them like a wholesale front. The navy, the army, and hospitals undoubtedly bought in bulk and Battersby had confirmed as much by talking about contracts with the Society itself rather than individual stores. John had no intention of setting the apothecary's general prices but it was a way to trade political favors.

 

As for speaking of the expedition John just smiled. "Later, if you p-p-please." He was getting a bit tired of that subject. And truthfully he felt the political wrangling was mostly closed too. But as for the glass house, “I have access to orangeries.” John offered again. John had already been turned down, so John doubted a house in Pall Mall was going to be accepted, but who knew.

[Guest]

Ah, the young lady understood. The Apothecaries were a threat to the Physicians, and at the same time essential for their practice for they held a monopoly on the production of the medicines upon which the Physicians so relied. A respected guild in their own right, the Apothecaries naturally fought against the Physicians’ attempts to keep their guild a mere servant to the other, rather than a competitor. The guilds were two giants, wrestling for their respective slices of the profit pie.

 

“I believe that the petition is to be put to Parliament, rather than to the Royal College.” Battersby explained to Nicolette. “The issue at hand is that the physicians do not recognise the expertise of the apothecary in diagnosing and treating the patient, and maintain that only a physician can do that, and that the apothecaries medicines may only be issued with the prescription of a physician.” But surely she knew that, given that she owned an apothecarial shop. Or perhaps she didn’t, due to the matter that he intended to discuss. Well, that could all be determined on the morrow.

 

Miller glanced over his shoulder from where he had been tending to some potted plants and staying out of the business discussions, when Nicci posed a question to him. As a botanist himself had of course been listening very carefully. “A new glass house would be very useful miss.” The big man confirmed. “We could set up a dry hot house perhaps.” He added, thinking of the bugloss. “We don’t send specimens to private houses though, thank you both for offering. We can’t care for them at a distance.” It was also a matter of policy, and Miller and Battersby exchanged a loaded glance.

 

Battersby meanwhile nodded politely to John’s thanks, though he wasn’t quite certain what the man was thanking him for. He’d made it quite plain that expected a written proposal of employment before anything further would happen, and had placed no further trust in the man than to convey that message and, if relevant, draw up the proposal. But the discussion on both subjects had been rather disjointed and, at times, Lord Maldon seemed to have difficulty comprehending what was said to him. His physicial disabilities were quite apparent; Battersby found himself wondering whether the man suffered from mental ones as well.

 

“Well, this has been very interesting, and hopefully productive for all of us. Thank you Lord Maldon and Madamoiselle Vauquelin for your visit, I do appreciate your time.” But right now it was getting colder and Battersby felt that what needed saying had been said. “My Lord, I shall look forward to receiving your proposal of employment for the expedition, and the petition for Lords. Madamoiselle, I shall see you on the morrow. A very good day to you both.” He gave the pair a smile and a bow. “Henry, walk with me.” He added to Miller, as the little group exited the greenhouse and went their separate ways.

 

OOC: Fin! Thank you both and I shall look forward to future developments!

[Guest]

Battersby nodded, remaining silent. John could tell he didn't mean it. John felt that was unwise on his part. John had made it clear he would be displeased and not at all friendly in such a case. One of them was deluded as to how much power they had. They would see whether a commoner who lead a minor guild that was oppressed by an organization of gentleman was actually more powerful than an earl from one of the most powerful families in England.

 

John nodded and smiled. He would send it along, though he expected it would not actually be completed this season. “Good d-d-day.” John said. Gently taking Nicolette’s arm (somewhat sensing her emotional state). He squeezed it in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

 

OOC: And that’s fin for me as well. Thank you both!

[Nicolette Vauquelin]

OOC: Merci!