Bees and Tea

With gloved hands, Juliette settled the mesh around her face before lifting the hive’s wooden lid. The gentle droning soothed her spirits as she carefully lifted out the honeycombed shelf, inspecting the honey collected there. “Superb,” she murmured. This would do nicely, indeed.

“Oh, Miss Juliette, you will be stung all over! Let Perkins do it.” The horrified voice came from behind Juliette and had her rolling her eyes in amused affection.

“Nanny, I am one and twenty, there is no longer a need to coddle me like a child.” Besides, she must do this herself…or the spell would not work.

While Nanny grumbled, Juliette deftly scraped honey into a squat amber glass bottle. A few inquisitive bees rose up to inspect her, but Juliette had long been whispering her secrets to her friends, the bees, far before she’d had true need of their particular help.

“There,” Juliette said, closing up the hive. She turned, triumphantly brandishing the honey at Nanny.

“You are still set upon this madcap scheme then?” Nanny frowned, crossing her arms over her apron.

Juliette nodded, lifted her chin, and strode into Nanny’s cottage where the copper kettle sang merrily upon the stove top. She set the honey down and took off Perkins’ beekeeping attire. As she selected two dainty pink-and-green tea cups—the only thing she’d been permitted to take from her home—Nanny bustled in behind her.

Making the tea, she said, “Well, if you must, let Perkins at least accompany you. It’s most unseemly to go unchaperoned—”

“Nanny, you forget, I shall go incognito. Thanks to Stepfather’s indiscretions, my friends would cut me direct if they saw me.” Juliette worried her lower lip. Her scheme may be madcap, but it was the only one she had.

“A snobby lot they were, Miss, if I might be so bold,” Nanny said, pouring water on to the last of their expensive tea leaves.

“Indeed,” Juliette murmured, her eyes falling upon the open spell book.

Take something sweet,

Coat it on a twist of wheat,

Weave in a few uncommon plant’s prickles,

Then offer the gift and reverse time’s sickle.

As a girl, Nanny’s books had always fascinated Juliette, but now they were to be her lifeline. Ousted from her ancestral home by a feckless man, she sought to reclaim it. If she needed to alter fate a little, then so be it.

Nanny set the tea beside Juliette. “I wish I’d concealed those books a little better,” she said.

Juliette lifted the cup and hid a smile behind the rim. “Now, you know once I get a bee in my bonnet about something, I will not be deterred, Nanny.”

Nanny regarded her with exasperated fondness. “Aye, in that, you are your mother’s daughter,” she said softly.

Tears fought for release, but Juliette sniffed them away. She needed to be strong now. At least her mother had passed before her second husband’s true nature had come to light. And so, It was up to Juliette to restore her mother’s legacy—the home which should have been left to Juliette.

Nanny squeezed Juliette’s hand before moving away. “I will set out your clothes,” she said in resignation.

Garbed in black, with a veiled bonnet, probably wasn’t the best attire for a greenhouse in the height of summer, Juliette allowed as she navigated the winding paths of the succulent house at the Botanical Gardens later that afternoon. But, no one would look askance at a ‘widow’ seeking solace. And that was to be her cover.

Her gaze alighted on a particularly promising cactus specimen. Opuntia—a spiny, drought-resistant succulent, part of the Cactaceae family, that rapidly invades natural areas and overwhelms other vegetation. Perfect. A spiny specimen for a spineless one who invaded places not their own.

Moving quickly, Juliette pinched off a few prickles in her leather-gloved hand before stowing them away in a small canvas pouch. There. She had all the necessary ingredients. All that was left was to assemble everything, visit him and get him to accept the ‘gift’.

Juliette clenched the basket handle and lifted her chin when the door to the townhouse opened. “I am here to see Lord Cleaver,” she announced.

The butler looked her up and down. Granted, she wore last season’s fashions, but she still knew how to present herself as a high society lady. “Whom may I say is calling?”

“Miss Juliette Rosebury.”

“Wait here.” The butler admitted her into the foyer and Juliette seated herself upon a chintz tufted seat.

“Lord Maximillian Cleaver,” the butler announced, returning with a young gentleman.

Juliette stood, frowning in confusion. “But you are not…” she trailed off when the handsome gentleman quirked one perfectly arched eyebrow at her. His blue eyes warmed appreciatively.

“You were looking for the previous Lord Cleaver perhaps?” he prompted.

“P-previous?” Juliette stuttered.

“My distant cousin suffered a misfortunate accident and the title has come to me.”

Juliette trembled all over. “And what of Rosebury Manor?” She thought of the ivy-covered home where she had spent her idyllic childhood, of the woods behind concealing a mist-shrouded lake, and of the stables where her horse was now kept from her.

The new Lord Cleaver smiled. “My dear Miss Rosebury, we have been looking everywhere for you. It is my intention to revert the manor back to you. I understand it is tradition for a Rosebury female to inherit.”

Oh my goodness. Juliette subsided back into the seat and etiquette prevailed. “My condolences,” she said, “how did your cousin pass?”

Lord Cleaver grimaced. “A fall from his horse—he was chased by a bee, of all things.”

A bee? Juliette gaped. Did the bees share secrets amongst themselves, and perhaps, at times, decide to take fate into their own wings? No spell needed? She stifled an almost hysterical giggle.

“Would you care for tea? We can discuss arrangements for your return to Rosebury Manor over afternoon tea.” Lord Cleaver smiled at Juliette, offering his hand.

Juliette accepted it with a smile of her own, her fingers tingling beneath his touch. She hadn’t wished for her stepfather’s death, of course, she'd simply wanted fate to return to its correct path. And now it had. Perhaps, her mother, Bea, had been looking down at her and mayhap had a hand in nudging fate along too.

The Rosebury legacy had rightfully been reclaimed, Juliette thought happily, and as she seated herself across from the new Lord Cleaver and met his eyes, she wondered if, perhaps, a new friendship was about to be forged too.

"Would you like honey with your tea?" Lord Cleaver asked, and Juliette gave him a wide smile.