Her hand flew to her stomach and she tried not to be ill. Juliet compressed her lips tightly. She was not going to fight and argue with him. And she was damned if she was going to let her spoil her opening in only two days' time.
Her next words surprised them both. "Tell me about the different kinds of tea again. Green, Black and Oolong. And about tea grades. I need to know what I'm talking about on Monday."
"Juliet--"
"The tea, please. It is after all more important to you than anything. And so it should be. You've given up so much for it. Including a large portion of your humanity."
"Juliet--"
"The tea!" she gritted out. "Or I'm going to get out of this coach and walk home."
She moved toward the door, and he saw from her violet eyes he really had pushed her too far.
He sighed. "Very well, the tea."
She settled back in her seat with her arms crossed, not so much as touching him with even the hem of her skirt.
He longed to reach for her and wipe her expression of seeming indifference off her face, but he knew his own anger well enough by now to decide he just couldn't trust himself to touch her in this frame of mind.
So he took a deep breath and started. "Much is dependent upon leaf size and processing methods. In India we use Flower Pekoe, tiny shoots and unopened buds. In China their tea grade is Orange Pekoe, when the youngest opened leaves are picked. It's called that because of the orange hue of the leaves. With Souchong, older, coarser leaves closer to the trunk of the shrub are picked.
"Another factor in the picking of young leaves is call a 'flush.' This is the sprouting of new buds and leaves on a plant. These fresh young leaves and buds are then picked. A tea plant may flush more than three times within a single growing season. In Darjeeling we might have had two flushes a year, perhaps three in a mild one. In Assam, we get flushes all year round, so we get a far greater yield."
"Tell me the steps for processing the tea leaves after they've been picked."
"But I've told you and the boys this."
"Remind me again," she requested, her nerves finally steadying. "I'll see if I can recollect it all."
"All right. First comes the withering, when the tea leaves are spread on racks or troughs to reduce their moisture content. Then the rolling, so that their structure breaks down to release their natural juices. This begins the fermentation process."
"For teas which are fermented. Not all of them are," Juliet interjected.
"That's right. In any event, fermentation takes place when the tea is spread on trays in a cool, humid atmosphere to let the air get at the leaves. It changes the chemical structure of the leaf, and allows the tea's characteristic flavor to emerge. The longer a tea is allowed to ferment, the stronger flavor it will have and the darker it will become."
"Then comes the firing," Juliet said, trusting her voice to keep steady at last. "The leaves are dried and the fermentation process is halted. In this stage, the leaves move through hot ovens to stabilize the leaves and lock in the flavor.
"Finally there is the grading, when the longer leaves, commonly called orange pekoes, are used for loose teas. The left-over fannings and dust from the process are used for filler and for the very poor."
He nodded, please with her intelligence and memory. "Very good. So now you can tell me the difference between Green, Black, and Oolong teas."
"Green teas are pan-fired in a wok to remove the substance which would otherwise cause the leaves to ferment. They also become soft, pliable, and easier to work with. The leaves are rolled on heated trays to break down its structure, and bring out the flavor juices. After this is done, the leaves are dried or 'fired' until they are truly seared, and then the tea is ready for packing and export. For centuries the only tea drunk was green."
"Very good. Now tell me about Oolong," he requested.
She obliged readily. "Oolong, which in Chinese means 'black dragon,' is relatively new compared to green and black teas. Oolong teas are only partially fermented, which results in a tea that is stronger in flavor than green teas, but softer, lighter, and more subtle than black teas. The leaves are processed in the same manner as black teas, but they are not allowed to ferment as long.
"Very good," he praised sincerely. "So tell me about black teas."
"They are not pan-fired in a wok, but withered like the Oolong. They're placed in a room for about a day, and then the leaves are soft enough to be rolled, by hand, into little balls. It goes through all the processes you described, but the firing is the key. During the firing the leaves turn dark brown, not black, and lose most of their moisture. If the firing is not done correctly, and the leaves are too dark, the resulting cup of tea will taste weak."
"Excellent. I think you know all you need to know."
She shook her head. "There are some things I would really rather not know."
Lawrence sighed. "I'm sorry I said what I did before. Look, I can't promise to be faithful to you for the rest of my life. I would be a liar if I did. Any honest man would tell you the same thing. All I know is I'm going to try my damnedest to succeed. I'm not a good man by any means. But I do wish to at least try to take my marriage vows seriously."
"Anything else I need to know? About the tea I mean," Juliet said coolly.
"I don't think so. Is there anything I need to know?" he said with a pointed look.
She gazed at him levelly. "Nothing. Nothing at all. We're both fine. Don't go looking for trouble where none exists."
"I shall try."
"Then so shall I."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Juliet wanted to believe Lawrence had been faithful to her during their marriage, but Matilda turning up seemingly by special invitation at her grand opening, and local flirt Georgina Jerome practically throwing herself at her husband, was more than enough to ruin what should have been a happy day.
"Don't pay either of those blondes any mind. They'll try to quiddle anyone's cod," Ash said with a dismissive wave of his hand, putting his arm around his wife.
Ellen nodded. "It's true. My own sister tried to poach my husband right out from under my nose."
"But I was chaste before I wed, and shall remain so," Ash said firmly.
Juliet sighed pensively. "Lawrence told me the other day that he couldn't promise to be faithful to me for the rest of our lives," she confided in a low tone. "That he would be a liar if he did. That any honest man would tell me the same thing. Yet you tell me with such certainty--"
The handsome young doctor nodded. "I can be sure because it's an active choice. I make it every day. Mind over the body, or fleshly desires. I love my wife too much to ever pollute what we share. To dissipate my energies which should be focused only upon making her happy. And I care too much for my fellow human beings to treat them as though they're only on this earth to be used as my entertainment."
"There's also your work, just as Lawrence is always so busy. How do you balance it all? I feel like I hardly know him."
"You're doing the right thing here," he said, indicating the bustle of the tea room. "What better way to understand something than engage with it."
Ellen nodded sympathetically. "That's why I study with Ash. This work is so important to him, I would be missing out on a great deal otherwise."
"Still, might it not seem a bit, er, unladylike to many?"
Ash grinned. "Not much worse than what you've already done, your two successful careers."
"Sush, he might hear you."
Ash looked at her closely for a moment. "I don't think I have to tell you of all people about the ill effects of secrets upon a marriage."
Juliet shook her head. "No, it's just that there never seems to be enough time or the right moment to confide in him."
"Make the time," Ellen urged. "He's certainly most taken with you. I know he can be a bit rough around the edges, but I'm sure he loves you."
Juliet gave a shaky laugh. "I only wish I could be so sure."
"I know many of men's sphere
s are closed to women as of yet, but things are changing. Lawrence might prove more understanding than you're giving him credit for," Ash said.
He took Ellen's hand. "I love my wife and want to see her happy. But I also have to be happy myself in order to be able to do that. Part of loving someone is loving oneself. You don't need to be a martyr, Juliet.
"I'm not, Ash," she protested sincerely. "Most of the time, my marriage has been wonderful."
"You mean when you're with Lawrence," Ellen said with a knowing wink. "Well, it's a start. But you need to cultivate that which makes you happy too, not just live your life for your husband and children. Though as Ash just said, you're making a good start here, and we wish you much success." The dazzling blonde kissed Juliet on the cheek.
"I'm glad you both approve. I think it will be the making of Lawrence, and my marriage too. But I'm not just doing it for my husband. I want that meaningful life as well that Ash just mentioned.
"I just wish, well, I wish Lawrence shared your principles on chastity in wedlock," she sighed, pleating the skirt of her new green gown with nervous fingers.
"In this case, it's clear what the right thing to do is, and I assure you, it is no hardship. If it were ever to become one for either of us, I would like to think that we have a close enough marriage to be able to discuss it and weather any small storms which may arise. If we don't make a drama out of things, it will be no more than a tempest in a teacup.
"At other times, principles can be as prickly as a thornbush. But it's all part of who I am, and Ellen understands that."
"Or at least I'm beginning to. It has got us into a couple of scrapes, though," Ellen confided.
"Oh, really?" Juliet asked, looking from one to the other.
"The Duke thinks I'm futtering his wife," he whispered in her ear.
Juliet's eyes flew wide.
Lawrence could not help catching his wife's look.
"Oh, no, Ash, surely not," she whispered when she could find her tongue again.
He nodded solemnly. "No, of course not. He misunderstood something and is, well, upset. Jealousy kills."
"I shall of course defend you if asked," Juliet said stoutly, not in the least doubting Ash's innocence. He might be rather outlandish compared to many in the district, but one thing was for certain, he was not a womanizer or hypocrite.
He shrugged one shoulder as though the matter were not in the least important, though the enmity of the Duke could mean almost certain ruin for the up and coming young doctor's career. "Thank you, dear friend, but I fear it will do little good."
Juliet stared at him. "But you just told me your principles--"
"Ah, but some men don't understand them. Perhaps it is because so few live up to them."
She gulped her cup of Assam tea nervously, then shook her head. "I don't understand, Ash. You're not a rattle or rake. What on earth would make Thomas think--"
"I can't break a confidence. But I think if you told him your story again, it might clear things up for him?"
She frowned up at him. "My story?"
"About you and your sister, how you lost your parents."
She clapped her hand to her mouth.
Ash took her other hand before she turned away. He squeezed it gently. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings on this of all days, when you're supposed to be basking in the glow of your success. But Thomas needs to hear it, and soon, before he says or does something he will truly regret. Promise me."
"All right. I promise."
"Thank you." He kissed her cheek.
Ellen hugged her warmly, and they moved away, leaving Juliet staring after them pensively.
"Has he been upsetting you?" Lawrence demanded angrily as soon as the other couple was out of earshot.
She blinked up at him, still dazed by all Ash had said. "No, not at all. He just reminded me of something a bit disturbing, that's all."
"What, pray?" her husband demanded.
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We can talk about it later. Right now, we have customers and guests."
She gathered her wits about her, adjusted her deep purple shawl and gown, and plastered a smile on her face, though her day felt well and truly clouded over, especially when she looked across the room at Thomas Eltham, and saw the Duke glaring at Ash from his corner wherever the young man went.
When she caught Thomas a third time, she steeled herself and said to Lawrence, "Can you please go speak to Clifford and Jonathan to thank them for coming? I need to talk to the Duke privately."
"The Duke?" Lawrence asked, sounding completely shocked at the very notion. "But why?"
"He needs my help, apparently."
"Your help?" Lawrence asked, staring down at his wife as though she has sprouted three heads.
She fixed him with her violet eyes. "You needn't sound so surprised. If you didn't continually dismiss me as a trollop all the time, you might see that I had a grasp of some things beyond your ken."
"If you didn't always act like a trollop, maybe I wouldn't," he shot back before he even realized he had opened his mouth.
She closed her eyes and swayed for a moment. "Get out of my way."
"You are not going over there," Lawrence insisted, trying to block her way, his jealousy soaring out of control once more.
Juliet might have considered obeying, if only in order to avoid causing a scene at their grand opening. But she could see across the room that the handsome couple were now exchanging heated words. Charlotte fled into the opposite corner a moment later, looking near tears.
That decided Juliet in an instant. She took a deep, steadying breath and declared in a low tone, "Short of knocking me unconscious or carrying me out of this shop over your shoulder, you can't stop me, Lawrence. You're welcome to come with me to hear what I have to say, but say it I shall."
She swept passed him, head held high, and went over to offer the Duke her hand as if they were old friends.
Lawrence stared at her in impotent fury, but he could do little other than greet newcomers with a fixed smile on his face while he watched her every move.
It was bad enough her flirting with Ash. Now she was working her wiles on the Duke of Ellesmere?
Thomas's expression went from polite interest to wariness to alarm. His head shot up and he looked at his wife with a mixture of shock, horror, and joy. His cup and saucer clattered to the floor unheeded.
The small crash turned all eyes towards that corner of the room, but the Rakehell Duke didn't care. Thomas hugged Juliet, and then ran over to his wife. He kissed her hard, picked her up despite her embarrassed protests, and left the shop, all eyes gazing after them with amusement or shock.
The tea room opening was now assured to be a success—no one in Bath would be able to talk about anything else for days.
Juliet stooped to clean up the shards, and gave a small smile. The broken porcelain was a tiny price to pay for helping bring the estranged couple back together. If only her own marriage could be managed so simply.
Once Juliet had helped the Elthams mend their marriage, she avoided her glowering husband to make sure everyone felt welcome and had all they desired. All her guests and patrons seemed to be having a wonderful time.
Everyone except her and her husband.
Lawrence was in a fine temper by the time they closed for the day, but refrained from shouting all the way home in the coach.
Juliet kept waiting for him to tear into her. This new, restrained Lawrence was almost more terrifying than the blustering one.
As soon as they got home, the boys ran over to hug her, her and asked if things had gone well.
"Very well, indeed," she said, embracing each of them warmly in turn, before handing them some cake which she had saved for them.
"Thank you," they chorused in delight.
"If you'll excuse me, I just have to do my accounts," she said calmly, making her way to the library. "Do you want to come help me count, lads?"
"Yes, indeed. I want to know just how
much Ash and Thomas are paying to frig you!" Lawrence bellowed.
Young Andrew went wild then, throwing himself at Juliet's knees and screaming. She could barely make out the words he shrieked.
Stuart's tears and equally violent response sent her tumbling to the floor. She held her stomach and tried to comfort them both at the same time, completely at a loss as to what could have set them off.
When Lawrence moved to help them up, Stuart shouted, "Don't touch her!"
Andrew's words at last became clear. "Don't hit her! Don't hit her!"
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5 Page 26