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From there they were off and running. Theodosia and Drayton poured more tea while Haley and Beth Ann served the two scone varieties along with bowls of poufy Devonshire cream and luscious four-fruit jam.
The Waldorf tea sandwiches also proved to be a huge hit.
“Theodosia.” Brooke Carter Crockett reached an arm out to stop her. “What on earth is the magic recipe for the filling in these tea sandwiches? They’re utterly delicious.”
“Haley mixed apples, celery, and walnuts with mayo, then spread it on cinnamon-raisin bread,” Theodosia said.
“And what kind of mayo?” another woman asked.
“That would be homemade, just like her bread.”
“Please talk to us about baking scones,” Elizabeth Armstrong said. She was the new president of the Broad Street Flower Club. “I want to hold a few organizational teas and I’m never sure if I should drop my scone dough into separate clumps on a baking sheet or pat the dough into a circle and use a cutter to score it into triangular segments.”
“Either way is fine,” Theodosia said. “The real trick is getting your scones to bake evenly and not get too dark on the bottom. And I always drizzle on my frosting or sprinkle on turbinado sugar while they’re still hot.”
When Theodosia stopped by the front counter to grab another pot of tea, she found Drayton on pins and needles.
“Take it easy,” she said. “The tea is going beautifully.”
“It’s not the tea party I’m worried about,” Drayton said. He glanced over to where Willis Conklin was seated. “The man is jotting notes. Copious notes, I might add.”
“That’s probably a good thing,” Theodosia said.
“Or it could mean he’s unhappy.” Drayton stewed. “And is writing a scathing review. Oh dear, how I wish I could read upside down.”
“Last time you poured a refill for Mr. Conklin, I’d say you did a masterful job of reading over his shoulder.”
Drayton’s face reddened. “Oh no, was it that obvious?”
Theodosia patted Drayton’s shoulder. “Probably only to me.”
* * *
The tea luncheon didn’t so much end as reach a leisurely conclusion. Some of the customers shopped for tea gifts, others blew kisses at Drayton as they exited the front door, and Theodosia (finally!) found time to sit down with her aunt Libby and Laura Lee.
“You must come out and visit us soon,” Aunt Libby said. She lived at Cane Ridge Plantation, a plantation house set on eighty sprawling acres, located on Rutledge Road just southwest of Charleston. Aunt Libby had inherited the plantation from Theodosia’s grandparents and one day it would all belong to Theodosia.
“I know. I will!” Theodosia said.
“We don’t see enough of you, dear,” Aunt Libby said. “We have white-winged crossbills foraging in our tamarack and spruce and I’ve even sighted an occasional scarlet tanager.” Aunt Libby was a bird lover of the first magnitude. Every day she put out oil seed, thistle, and cracklins for her winged friends.
“I need to grab some more grapevines, too,” Theodosia said. She loved driving out into the woods to gather wild grapevines, then wind them around old wooden barrels to dry. Of course, decorating them with miniature teacups, spoons, ribbons, and honey sticks was fun, too. So was selling them.
“I mean it,” Aunt Libby said as she stood up from the table, looking small and elegant. “I want you to call me next week, okay?”
“For sure,” Theodosia said, kissing her aunt on the cheek, giving Laura Lee a hug, then walking them to the door.
Once everyone had said their final goodbyes and departed the tea shop, Theodosia, Drayton, Haley, and Beth Ann gathered together to eat the last of the scones and tea sandwiches.
“That was a very upscale menu you created,” Drayton said to Haley.
“Do you think it made a good enough impression on your Mr. Conklin, the magazine guy?” Haley asked.
“I’d have to say that all our guests were impressed. Especially Mr. Conklin, which is quite a relief to me,” Drayton said.
“That’s great,” Haley said. “Because the Indigo Tea Shop has a reputation to uphold. We’re the high-end tea shop in Charleston. Ipso fatso.”
“I think you mean ipso facto,” Drayton said, a touch of amusement coloring his voice.
