Collin.
A smile tipped her lips as she ascended the stairs and went to her room to quickly change into something that was thankfully easy enough that she didn’t require a maid’s assistance. Soon she was taking the stairs back to the kitchen. She went over to a cupboard that held small jars and removed fifteen, setting them in neat little rows. Next, she set a sieve above her first jar and, with a deep breath, lifted the honey onto the counter beside the jars.
She glanced back at Cook, who was giving her a disapproving look but held her tongue and merely handed Elizabeth a ladle.
“Thank you,” she replied. Cook had been with their family since Elizabeth was in leading strings and thus was allowed more latitude than the other servants.
Elizabeth returned her attention to the honey. She slowly dipped the ladle into the golden liquid, watching as it sank in and the honey filledthe spoon. She lifted it, waiting until most of the honey stopped dripping, and quickly filled the sieve, which in turn filled the jar. Each jar took two and a half ladles, and after a while, all the jars were filled, with one extra jar halfway filled as well. She scraped the bucket, then placed it in a pot of heated water from the washing and waited as the honey warmed and tipped to the side of the bucket where she’d angled it. She then poured the rest into the final half-full jar and set the bucket aside.
The honey would go to her friends, and Cook would sell the rest to other families, including the owners of the tea shop where Elizabeth taught.
As she thought of teaching, she remembered that she needed to review tonight’s lesson before the evening arrived, adding it to her mental list of things to do. She quickly continued with her tasks. She cut half the honeycomb and set it inside the bucket, and took the other half and laid it in a large pot to be melted later and used.
“I’ll return in an hour,” Elizabeth told the cook, and then repeated the message to Molly. In short order, Elizabeth was riding Winifred back to the hives, bucket tied to the saddle so she could give the bees the wax back to use for their own purposes. A light rain fell, but as she navigated the shaded part of the path, the trees protected her from most of it.
After placing the comb near the hive, deciding it was too large to put inside, Elizabeth stepped backand watched as the bees circled, landed, and started to spread the word about the new resource.
She waited a moment, giving the bees their space as she watched them work, little by little dismantling the wax to reapply in their hive. Elizabeth loved how bees proved that small steps led to large results. It was a concept easily understood yet difficult to apply.
She returned to Winifred and began the journey home, her attention on the afternoon ahead. Anticipation filled her, tickling her senses as she thought about seeing Collin again—and soon. But it would feel different, wouldn’t it? There was an…expectation, a knowing that her regard for him wasn’t a one-sided emotion, nor was it merely a flirtation. It was more. And she rather liked more. It was delicious and tempting, bringing things to the surface she’d never known existed.
After she arrived at home and cared for her horse, she decided it was time to put aside the thoughts of Collin and address the more serious matter of preparing for class that evening. She’d visit the market later, she decided.
A new student would be attending, and Elizabeth was thrilled at the prospect of introducing her to the other ladies. It was a process to add a new student. With her classes not being of public knowledge, her students were mostly young ladies in families she knew and could trust to keep the secret. Patricia’s family and of course the family that owned the teashop where they had met were two examples. This new student came as a recommendation from the tea shop owner’s cousin, so Elizabeth had invited her to tonight’s meeting. She wasn’t certain of the particulars of the new student, just that she was a few years younger than herself and had excelled in studying with all her tutors and was searching for another venue of education.
Elizabeth went to the table in the parlor that she normally used for preparing her lessons and smiled when she saw her satchel, memories lifting her spirits further. She opened the leather flap and withdrew the crumpled parchment sheets, smoothing them against the table. The first task was putting them back in order.
After an hour of study, she rang for Molly to tell her she’d be ready in a quarter hour to visit the market. On the way there, Elizabeth navigated the streets of Cambridge rapidly, her eyes scanning the faces and the darker alleyways between the tall stone buildings. As she neared the same location where Molly had procured the tea yesterday, she slowed. Addressing Molly, she spoke. “Did Cook say anything to you about the tea we purchased yesterday? Did she notice anything else?” she asked.
“Nothing of note, but she did mention it wasn’t mixed with old used tea, like she would have expected of contraband,” Molly said. “It’s rotten, I’m sure, but as precious as tea is right now, it’s not awonder they are getting business selling it without the tax.” She shook her head.
Elizabeth nodded. Cook kept the tea in a locked cabinet at night. They didn’t employ many servants, and those they had were trustworthy enough to not pilfer the valuable commodity, but Cook was still mindful. Elizabeth had heard of larger households having tea stores locked by the mistress herself.
“I see.” Elizabeth nodded. “Do you see the same lad?”
Molly shook her head. “No. In fact I don’t see anyone who appears to be selling it.” She glanced about the area. “Maybe they got caught. It is only a matter of time, miss.”
“Indeed.” Elizabeth nodded. “I’m going over to where you purchased the tea yesterday. Follow me.”
Molly ambled behind Elizabeth as she crossed the street and paused at a slender alley between two larger stone buildings. “Do you see anything amiss?” Elizabeth asked, voice low.
“No, miss,” answered Molly.
Prudence told her to walk away, but curiosity led her to walk into the alleyway to see what was on the other side of the building, what street it bled onto.
“Miss?” Molly asked, her tone high-pitched with concern.
“There’s no one here. I’m going to just peek,” Elizabeth replied calmly.
She followed the dirty cobbles to the end of thealley where it opened onto a wide street with far less traffic. She examined up and down the road, searching for anything out of the ordinary.
A man was walking toward her from up the street, and she paused, finding something about him vaguely familiar. As he drew closer, she recognized him and groaned. Professor Greybeck, one of the last people she wished to see, was on a collision course with her unless she darted back into the alley. She turned to retreat, but glanced to him once more, then paused as he stopped when he saw her, his face clouding with hostile recognition, then smiling.
Elizabeth steeled herself and nodded in greeting as he continued his now purposeful approach.
His attention flickered behind her, likely noting Molly’s presence. “I see you’ve finally taken to observing social standards. Too bad you waited so long,” he said by way of hello.
“Good afternoon, Professor Greybeck. If you’ll excuse me—”
