She arched a brow and poured the tea. She lifted a lid to a small dish and stirred in a bit of honey before handing the tea to Collin.
“Thank you.” He took a small sip. His forehead furrowed for a moment before asking a question. “Where do you procure your tea?”
Elizabeth frowned a moment, then turned to Molly. “Isn’t it the shop down by Trinity?”
“Yes, Miss Essex,” Molly said. “We only buy our tea there, not from anyplace less reputable and certainly not from those urchins that sell in the alleyways.” Molly eyed Lord Penderdale, as if judging him for asking.
“What do you mean, ‘less reputable’?” he asked Molly.
Elizabeth noted the way his body had tightened with tension at her servant’s words, and she knew they must hold a deeper meaning for him. Interesting.
“Aye, there’s a few shops that are known for selling the used tea leaves and heaven knows what, but they also have a small amount of quality tea under lock—but it’s not aboveboard, if you gather my meaning. It’s risky business that, no tax. King and country must be blooming mad, but if you peep at them sideways, they usher you out the door real quick.”
“Hmm,” Collin stated. “That’s interesting. You say you know which shops?”
“Aye, and a few have set up small stalls in the market area, but they are for the poor. Their leaves are the char sold by the cooks and added to. However, if you look like you’re worth more than a shilling, they’ll try to sell you higher-quality stuff. Mostly black tea though.” She added, “It’s been going on for a few months. I told the watchmen, and the professor sent to the magistrate to be aware, but I don’t know much more. They likely can’t prove anything.”
“I see. Well, this tea is delightful, clearly purchased somewhere reputable,” he added, and Molly settled her ruffled feathers a bit.
Elizabeth watched the exchange silently, studying the information and how Collin received it,deducing that perhaps the men who were using his name might be in the tea smuggling business.
After all, it was a huge problem. She’d read an article in theTimesabout it a year ago. During the war, smuggling had been rampant. Brandy, tea, lace… All were in high demand, and criminals worked with vigor to supply that demand. Adding in that the French imports were illegal only made the situation more volatile. She’d read that only about fifteen percent of the tea used in Britain in the past year was legally imported, and the rest was illegal. Everyone she knew drank tea regularly. That meant that eighty-five percent of the tea was contraband. It was an astounding number. How could the War Office and any sort of law enforcement agency address such a large problem? It seemed insurmountable, which was likely why the street boys could easily peddle the stuff without getting caught. If they were, someone would take their place the next day.
There had to be a root.
And good Lord, it was likely a taproot that went down forever. She wondered if perhaps the issue with criminals using Collin’s name was far more involved than she, or maybe he, expected.
Elizabeth poured herself some tea and added a drop of cream and some honey, then sipped slowly.
“So, this honey is quite fresh. Is it from today?” Collin asked, ending her woolgathering.
She nodded and set her teacup down. “Yes, today, thus my sticky self.” She waved at her rather unappealing dress.
“Or your sweet self. However you wish to look at it.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will you be visiting Miss Finch today?” he asked, but his expression made the question seem weighted, as if there was something she was not privy to.
“Why?” she countered, curiosity making her narrow her eyes. “Trying to avoid me? Are you wanting a rematch for that conversation earlier?”
“First off, I won that battle.” He set his teacup down and rested his arms on his knees. “And second, no.”
“No…” She waited.
“I’m not avoiding you. Did you already forget your question? I’m disappointed, Miss Essex.” He made atsksound with his tongue as if chiding her.
“You’re insufferable.”
“Why, thank you,” he replied. “You’re evasive.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I wasn’t planning to visit Patricia today, no.”
He nodded, his expression tightening for just a moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your engagements for the rest of the afternoon?”
Elizabeth turned her attention to her teacup and sipped slowly. She was using the moment to think about her answer. She didn’t have plans. She was going to read at home, check the honey every oncein a while, nothing terribly exciting. But if she said she didn’t have any plans, would he invite her to make some with him? Did she want that?
Break down the problem into its simplest parts.
Yes. She did want that.
Setting the teacup down, she shrugged. “I’ve nothing pressing. I was going to read and check the progress of the honey extraction every once and a while.”
