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“But we’re not done yet,” Theodosia said. “Our entrée is lobster thermidor on buttermilk biscuits, our dessert is a delicious pineapple crisp, and our tea…” Theodosia paused and glanced over at Drayton. “Drayton, what is our tea today?”
Holding a calico-printed teapot aloft, Drayton strode across the tea room to join Theodosia.
“I’ve brewed two special Chinese legacy teas that are highly reminiscent of the teas our French and English ancestors enjoyed around the mid-eighteen hundreds. The first is a Hunan black needle tea and the second is a Fujian black plum tea. Both should be to your liking and be complementary to today’s luncheon.”
Theodosia and Miss Dimple ferried out scones and then tea sandwiches as Drayton kept busy pouring tea. Then, once the lobster thermidor was served, Theodosia was able to relax and stop by each table to greet her guests.
Mrs. Cornelia Eddie, also known as Miss Cornelia because she was a woman “of a certain age,” reached out to grab Theodosia’s hand.
“Dear, did I hear that your tea shop is planning a Fox and Hounds Tea?” Miss Cornelia asked.
“Probably in a month or two, though we haven’t set an exact date yet,” Theodosia said.
“That brings back memories.” The old lady smiled. “In my younger days I used to do a bit of horseback riding.”
“Don’t let her kid you,” her daughter said. “My mother used to trailer her horses up to Virginia to catch all the point-to-point races. And when I say catch, I mean she rode in them. Brought home a few blue ribbons, too.”
“Then you for sure have to come to our tea,” Theodosia laughed.
When Theodosia stopped at Delaine’s table, Delaine was raving about Helene’s shop, the Sea Witch.
“Theo,” Delaine said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close, “you absolutely have to visit Helene’s shop. There’s nothing like it in Charleston—she has all these amazing one-of-a-kind objects. It’s truly a unique little jewel box of a shop.”
“How do you go about sourcing your antiques?” Theodosia asked Helene.
“I get lucky,” Helene said, which caused everyone at the table to laugh.
“No, really,” Delaine prodded. “You must have some trade secrets.”
“Would you believe I forage around, hitting area tag sales and asking a lot of nosy questions?” Helene said.
Theodosia nodded. That was basically how she’d furnished her tea shop.
“And if I’m lucky,” Helene continued, “I get invited into a few farmsteads and old barns where I poke around for bits of treasure that have been stashed there for decades.”
“I’m intrigued,” Theodosia said. “Now I really do have to visit your shop.”
“Stop by anytime!” Helene cried.
“I will, just not today,” Theodosia said. She gestured at her filled-to-capacity tea room. “Too much going on.”
Delaine narrowed her eyes. “Are you still digging in and asking questions about Josh Morro’s murder? Snooping around?”
“On and off,” Theodosia said.
“Good,” Delaine said. “Because even though I’ve been discounted as a murder suspect—thank goodness for that!—I still want to see the killer, whoever he is, arrested and brought to justice.”
“What if it’s a she?” Helene asked.
Delaine gave her a sharp look. “Are you thinking about that actress, Carly Brandt? The one who showed up out of nowhere?”
“Thinking about her, that’s all,” Helene said. “I can’t say I’ve heard any evidence against her. All she’s been doing is trying to gather information about her dead fiancé.”
“Carly could still be the guilty party,” Delaine said in hushed tones. “She could have easily murdered Josh. Carly claims the two were engaged, but what if they really weren’t? What if she hated him and this was her big chance?”
“I’m not sure Carly was even in Charleston when the murder took place,” Theodosia said.
Delaine waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Pishposh, of course Carly could have been here. She could have flown in secretly, murdered Josh, then fled the murder scene. After the you-know-what hit the fan, she conveniently turned up two days later looking all distraught and innocent.”
