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“These look like original architect’s renderings,” she said.
“Looks as if we might have lucked out. Or you did anyway.”
“Sure,” Theodosia said, moving a finger across the plan for Brittlebank. “Here’s the first floor, second floor, and, oh my gosh, the attic.”
Timothy bent forward to look. “Yes indeed. It certainly is a large structure. Pity it fell into such disrepair.”
“I’m not sure I’m reading these plans right, but it looks as if there’s some kind of passageway,” Theodosia said. “Or I should say a staircase from the second floor to the attic.”
“Almost all these grand old Charleston homes have secret passageways,” Timothy said. “My place on Archdale has two of them.”
“I did not know that,” Theodosia said. Timothy lived in baronial splendor in an enormous Italianate home that he shared with his Siamese cat, Chairman Meow.
“So maybe the woman wasn’t a prisoner at all,” Timothy said. “Perhaps she traveled freely between the second floor and third-floor attic. She could have had a room up there that functioned as a study or library, a place to get away from the chore of being the lady of the manor.”
“Maybe.” But Theodosia wasn’t all that convinced. “May I make a copy of these plans?” She glanced at her watch, saw that time was starting to slip away from her.
“Certainly,” Timothy said. “In fact, I’ll do it for you.”
* * *
Theodosia spun down Church Street, hung a fast right, and came out on East Bay Street where Harris Teeter was located. She lucked into a parking spot and raced into the crowded market. Grabbing a shopping cart, which Charlestonians preferred to call buggies, she circled the perimeter of the store, buying a frying chicken, lemons, sweet onions, a pound of butter, and bunches of fresh thyme and parsley. At the last minute she threw in a bunch of purple grapes, bouquets of roses and snapdragons, and a bag of pistachios. Then she drove a few blocks to the Charleston City Market, where she bought a vanilla pound cake (Riley’s go-to dessert) from Fergie’s Favorite bakeshop.
She hurried home, greeting Earl Grey and unloading all her groceries onto her kitchen counter. She arranged her red roses and purple snapdragons in a crystal vase, carried them into the dining room, and placed them in the center of her dining room table. Deciding she needed a centerpiece that looked a little more elegant, a little more of an ode to nature, Theodosia placed sprigs of eucalyptus, a few chunky pine cones, and three small white candles around her flowers. She bookcased that with grapes plopped into a wicker basket and a small green plant in a terra-cotta vase with overgrown moss. Opening her Sheraton buffet, she pulled out beige linen place mats with napkins to match, white plates, crystal wineglasses, and the good silverware.
Her table set and arranged, Theodosia hastened back to her kitchen to hopefully make serious magic.
13
“You’re right on time,” Theodosia said as she answered Riley’s knock at the back door. “But why’d you come around to the back?” Earl Grey was already standing there, looking out through the screen and wagging his tail.
“Because all the enticing aromas emanate from right back here,” Riley said. He stepped inside, put his arms around Theodosia, and gave her a kiss. “And this is where the cook is,” he added, giving her another kiss. “See, sweetheart? Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.”
“Rrwwr.” Earl Grey was watching them carefully.
“Yes, I missed you as well,” Riley said, giving Earl Grey a muzzle rub and an ear tug. Then he gave an appreciative sniff in the direction of the stove. “Wow, everything really does smell fantastic. Dare I ask what you’re serving this evening?”
“Exactly what you requested,” Theodosia said. “But you knew that, right?”
“More like hoped and prayed.”
“Well, you got your wish.” She picked up a bottle of white wine and a silver corkscrew and handed them to Riley. “Here, go make yourself useful. Wineglasses are already on the table.”
Riley studied the wine label. “Sauvignon blanc from Stone-street Aurora Point? I’ve never had this before.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Theodosia tinkered away in the kitchen, tasting, adding a little extra seasoning as needed. When everything was ready, she plated their servings of lemon chicken, added sides of locally grown Carolina rice that she’d steamed, and spooned the amber sauce from the pan over everything. She placed the plates on a large silver tray and carried it all into the dining room.
Riley had finished filling their wineglasses and looked hungry enough to wolf down a carburetor. “Oh wow,” he said. “That chicken looks heavenly.”
“Hope so.”
“And your table is so enchanting,” he said as Theodosia put his plate down in front of him. “Are all these lovely flowers and fancy things just for my benefit?”
Theodosia glanced at the candles, grapes, and flowers she’d so carefully arranged. “It’s for you, yes, but also a little bit for me. I do this all the time at the tea shop, but I don’t have that many opportunities to create a nice tablescape at home.”
“That’s what this is called? A tablescape?”
