“Oh, don’t move, Theo!” cried Haley. “There’s a huge sliver of glass pointing right at your foot. Move one inch, and it’s liable to slice through your shoe. Hang on, and I’ll get the dust pan and broom.” She scurried off to fetch cleaning supplies.

“Who did she mean?” Theodosia asked Drayton.

“I’m just as much in the dark as you.” Drayton shrugged.

“Okay, stand still!” Haley laid the dustpan down, hooked two large shards of glass with the broom, and slid them onto the dust pan. She surveyed the smaller pieces of glass and the pools of yellow liquid. “Gosh, what a mess.” She furrowed her brow, ready to go on the attack. A compulsive neatnik and organizer, Haley always relished a cleanup challenge.

“Haley.” Drayton snapped his fingers, amused by her fierce concentration. “Which one of our fine lads had the honor of squiring Bethany last evening?”

Haley looked up at Drayton and blinked, trying to regain her train of thought. “Oh. Tanner Joseph. The fellow who’s doing the illustrations for the holiday tea labels.”

“Tanner Joseph,” repeated Theodosia. Now it made perfect sense. Bethany had been so cordial and helpful the other day, explaining teas and holiday blends to him.

“Of course, that fellow,” said Drayton. Now that he knew who Bethany’s date had been, his interest level had waned. If it had been someone new, someone who’d just opened a clever new shop on Church Street or someone who’d just bought a home in the nearby historic district and was going to renovate in a historically accurate way, then Drayton would have demanded all the details. Who were his family? Where had he gone to school? What did he do for a living?

“Where is Bethany, by the way?” asked Theodosia.

Haley scooped up more of the splintery mess. “Doing deliveries.” “In this rain?” said Drayton. “She said she wanted to clear her head,” replied Haley.

“Besides, she’s a jogger. Joggers are used to being out in all sorts of weather.” She gazed out a fogged window toward the deserted, rain-slick street. “At least I think they are.”

His curiosity satisfied, Drayton turned his attention back to preparations for the bridal shower tea. “I wish it weren’t pouring buckets,” he fussed.

“They weren’t planning on holding the bridal shower tea outdoors, were they?” asked Haley.

He grimaced. “Yes, they were. Obviously that’s not a possibility now.” Drayton reached up and took a tiny tea candle nestled in a white porcelain bowl from the shelf. “The whole thing will have to be rethought,” he said mournfully as he gazed down at the little candle in his hand. “Doesn’t the Lady Goodwood have a solarium?” asked Theodosia. “Just off the dining room?”

Drayton considered her question. “I believe they do. Very much on the order of a greenhouse. Verdant, lots of plants, a few tables. I think there might even be a small fountain. Of course the space is abysmally hot when the sun is shining, but on a day like today, cool, rainy, it might be just right.” His face began to brighten significantly as he weighed the merits of this new locale. “Maybe even a touch romantic, what with rain pattering down on the glass roof.”

“What a nice image, Drayton,” said Haley, smiling. “I like that.”

“Theodosia,” Drayton said as he frantically scanned the tall shelves where all manner of tea candles, jams, and jellies were displayed. “Don’t we have some floating candles?”

He whirled about as Theodosia, a step ahead of him, plunked four boxes of the miniature round disks into his hands.

“That’s it!” cried Drayton. “What else?”

“Tea cozies for all the pots!” exclaimed Haley, getting into the spirit. “And exchange the wrought-iron chairs that are probably there now for upholstered chairs from the dining room.”

“Perfect,” declared Drayton. “What about food?” inquired Theodosia. “What’s on the menu so far?” “Chocolate-dipped strawberries, shortbread cakes, apricot chutney, and Stilton cheese tea sandwiches,” said Drayton. “Okay,” said Theodosia. “Now just add some of Haley’s hot crab dip with Irish soda bread.”

“My God, Theo, you’re a genius,” declared Drayton. He whirled about. “Haley, do you have time to whip up crab dip?”

“Drayton. Please.” Haley had already shifted into her search-and-rescue mode and was headed for the kitchen.

It was after eleven when Bethany finally returned to the Indigo Tea Shop, face shiny, hair wet and smelling faintly of fresh rain.

“You all look so busy,” she cried. “Can I help?”

Theodosia took one look at her. “You’re soaked clear through. Better pop across the alley and change first. You’re liable to catch cold.”

“Colds come from viruses,” said Haley. “Not cold weather.” She had finished the crab dip and was now tying raffia and gilded leaves around bunches of cinnamon sticks.

“Which is why you drink my hibiscus and orange spice tea in winter? To thwart any possible virus?” asked Dray-ton in a faintly critical tone.

“Well, not exactly,” said Haley.

“You’re right, Theodosia. I’d feel better if I changed into dry clothes,” said Bethany. “Want me to take Earl Grey out for a walk first?”

“Would you?” asked Theodosia.

“Love to,” said Bethany.

“She really is in a wonderful mood,” Drayton remarked in an offhand manner to Haley.

Bethany stood stock-still in the middle of the tea room, and her eyes searched out the three of them. “You all have been talking about me!” she declared. “Haley, you told!” She admonished Haley’s retreating back as Haley decided to quickly disappear into the safe confines of her kitchen.

“What is with that girl?” declared Bethany. Her face was pulled into a frown, and she was vexed over Haley’s obvious revelation about her previous night’s date.

Theodosia put a hand on Bethany’s damp shoulder to reassure her. “She’s happy for you, dear. That’s all.”

“I suppose she told you it was Tanner Joseph. We only went to a gallery opening. The Ariel Gallery over on George Street had a show of black-and-white photography. By Sidney Didion, a local photographer.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” asked Theodosia. She had read a review of the Didion exhibit, and it had sounded quite good. Titled “Ghosts,” the show consisted of moody black-and-white photo essays of old plantations.

“I did.” Now Bethany’s eyes shone brightly. “Did you know Tanner spent an entire year in the Amazon? He has a master’s degree in ecology from the University of Minnesota, and he went down to South America to study the ecosystem of the rain forest.”

“Yes, he mentioned that to me.” “Isn’t it fascinating?” Bethany’s face had taken on a curious glow.

Why, she seems to really care for this young man, thought Theodosia. It’s heartening to see her coming out of mourning and actually take an interest in someone.

“Tanner spent a week living in a six-by-eight-foot tree house in the rain forest canopy,” said Bethany. “Apparently he had this whole system of pulleys and harnesses and long ropes that allowed him to ride from one treetop to another and collect samples. Of course, I have acrophobia and absolutely die if I venture more than four feet off the ground, but it does sound like an amazing adventure.”

“I’ve seen photos of researchers doing that in National Geographic,” said Theodosia. “You really do need to be fearless about heights.”

“There’s a whole microcosm of plant and animal life up in those trees!” Bethany went on. “Insects, botanicals, birds. Most of them never touch the ground. Tanner told me all about these weird little green frogs.”

Hairs suddenly prickled on the back of Theodosia’s neck. “What did he tell you about frogs, Bethany?”

“Just that there’s a certain type of frog the natives collect. They’re very beautiful, bright green and yellow, but they’re venomous. So the Indians dip the tips of their arrows into the frog’s venom, then use those arrows for hunting. And Tanner told me about the most amazing orchids that grow up there, too. Bromeliads, actually. Orchid cousins. He says some of them have blooms that are ten inches across. Isn’t that amazing?”

Вы читаете Death By Darjeeling
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату