Tea For Two

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Authors: Cheri Chesley

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BOOK: Tea For Two
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Tea for Two

by Cheri Chesley

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction,
and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the
author. Likewise, certain characters, places, and incidents, unless
specified in the acknowledgements, are the product of the author’s
imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved. No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except
in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and
reviews.

 

Published by
Chesley
Books

Copyright 2015

 

 

 

 

Tea for Two

 

 

Cheri Chesley

Acknowledgements

 

 

When I originally wrote this story more than twenty
years ago, I still had so much to learn. I’m grateful for my
husband, Bryan, who always insisted this story was worth saving,
and to my children who continue to give me so much support and
encouragement. I’m inexpressibly blessed to have an extended family
who continues to support my writing, and a network of talented
writers, editors, and publishers who continue to mentor, offer
advice, and generally encourage writers still fairly new to the
craft.

 

Much thanks, again, to Crystal Liechty, my editor,
for her praise and suggestions. You have a talent for helping me
see my story’s potential.

 

And, as always, I offer my gratitude to God for my
talents, and also for the wonderful people He has put in my life to
help me best express what He has given me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Bryan, my forever
love.

Nineteen years, and it
still feels like yesterday.

The world of Eeryan is not
unlike our own—kingdoms and principalities with rich histories of
love, hate, vengeance, war, peace, epic battles, and natural
disasters. There are diverse kingdoms to discover and vast land
masses to traverse, as well as a Great Sea that essentially holds
it all together.

In the land of Brundidge,
so far across the Sea from kingdoms like Demarde and Fayterra as to
be almost unheard of, there is no remaining magic. There is,
however, a just king and stately queen, the right amount of heirs,
and a love story that will warm your heart.

CHAPTER 1

 

 

Don’t tell! Promise me you will never
tell.

Shannah pushed Garnette’s words back into the
recesses of her mind and concentrated on scrubbing the flagstones.
She thought of her sister often this time of year, but she couldn’t
afford to be distracted. Everything had to be just perfect for
Viscountess Wyndham’s birthday celebration, or the entire household
would suffer—and they all knew it.

The Viscountess wasn’t a particularly
difficult woman to please but she had her preferences, and since
her husband’s death last autumn, she had pressed her inclinations
without exception.

But even before his death, the viscount made
certain his wife’s annual birthday celebration was a party to be
envied. A certain standard had been set, and it was a point of
pride among the household staff that the standard be upheld.

Shannah frowned at a particularly stubborn
spot of ick. Her ladyship would not be pleased if her guests saw
that. She worked it away, alternating with the brush and her
fingernail until the spot gleamed like the rest of the stones. She
didn’t take the time to wonder what she’d just scraped up, though
she dipped her hand in the soapy water for good measure.

Boot steps behind her drew her attention.
Viscount Wyndham climbed the stairs that led to the front door, to
where she knelt, his freshly muddied boots leaving a whole new mess
on the gleaming front steps.

She gasped and he looked up, noticing her.
His rich chocolate eyes quickly took in the bucket, her scrub
brush, and the mud in his wake.

He had the grace to look chagrined. “I’m
terribly sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

Shannah refrained from agreeing. Instead she
started to rise.

“Here.” He moved like lightning to her side,
a hand at her elbow.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Please, don’t. It’s silly to thank me after
the mess I’ve just made for you.” He gestured toward the manor.
“I’ll send someone to help you. It’s the least I can do.”

“Everyone is busy preparing for my lady’s
ball, my lord,” she said. “Mrs. Scrab can’t spare another.”

“Ah, yes.” He shot her a disarming smile,
white teeth gleaming against his midnight complexion. “My mother’s
party. I should get out of your way, then.”

She looked up at him. “If I could, my lord, I
would suggest you leave your boots outside. Alice and Jayne have
spent the last hour polishing the floor.”

“A wise suggestion. Thank you, Shannah.”

She blinked. He knew her name?

He seemed to read her mind. “Come now, I
haven’t accumulated so many servants that I can’t remember all
their names.”

She lowered her head. “My lord.”

He slid off his boots and left them by the
door before entering the house. Shannah watched him go. His father
had been a rather serious, stern man, but the new viscount was so
nice. She could almost forget how dangerous he was.

Shannah looked at his boots and imagined
Joshua, his valet, retrieving them for cleaning. She shook her head
and took a rag to them, wiping all the excess mud off the boots and
the steps where they sat. They would still need a good polishing,
but at least mud wouldn’t drip from them onto the carpets as Joshua
carried them up the stairs.

She returned to the steps and cleaned off all
the fresh mud the viscount left behind. Once she’d finished,
Shannah carried her things around to the kitchen entrance of the
house. She’d just poured the filthy water from her bucket when she
heard a crash followed by a cry of pain.

Shannah raced into the kitchen. She didn’t
get far, though, because a crowd had started to gather around
Jayne, who sat wailing on the floor, an overturned stepladder
behind her. Mrs. Scrab, the housekeeper, stood over the maid,
wringing her hands.

“What happened?” Shannah asked Alice, who
stood nearest.

“Mrs. Scrab told Jayne to fetch the pan up on
that high shelf, and Jayne said she wouldn’t because that ladder’s
too rickety.” Alice shook her blond head. “Mrs. Scrab told her to
mind, so up Jayne went. But the ladder gave way.”

Shannah’s eyes went to Mrs. Scrab. Jayne
wasn’t well liked, for she had a tendency to be lazy and was more
outspoken than most, but kindly, plump Mrs. Scrab had always been
kind to Shannah. Now tears were gathered on those pale, round
cheeks, and Shannah slid through the crowd to put an arm around her
friend.

“What is this racket?”

Even Jayne quieted at Lord Brendan’s voice.
He stood at the door that led into the hall, his hands on his hips.
Shannah’s eyes swept over his boot clad feet. It struck her funny
that he hadn’t appeared before the staff in his stockings.

“Oh, my lord, it’s my fault!” Millie Scrab
wailed. “I made Jayne fetch for me but the ladder gave way and she
fell. I’m afraid she’s hurt badly.”

Shannah watched his face. He didn’t look
entirely pleased, but his frustration didn’t appear to be directed
at his housekeeper. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Lord Brendan strode quickly to where Jayne
sat and knelt beside her. “May I have a look, Jayne?”

Shannah noticed Jayne didn’t appear to be in
horrible pain as she studied the handsome viscount. “Of course, my
lord,” Jayne said and offered him her ankle. “I think I turned it
when I fell.”

He took her foot in one hand and carefully
felt her ankle with the other. After a moment, he let out a sigh.
“Nothing appears to be broken. Can you stand?”

“I shall try, my lord,” Jayne said.

He got to his feet and offered her a hand.
Once upright, Jayne stepped gingerly on her injured foot but
brought it up with a cry of pain.

Lord Brendan smiled at her. “I think I shall
have to carry you.” He didn’t wait for a reply but swept Jayne into
his arms. “The rest of you, I trust, can get back to work now.
Millie, send that ladder out to be repaired.”

“Yes, Lord Brendan,” Millie said to his
retreating back. She grabbed Shannah’s elbow.

“Go with them, girl. Who knows what Jayne
will do to the poor boy once she’s got him alone.”

Shannah followed reluctantly.
Let Jayne
have her fun
, she thought. Lord Brendan could take care of
himself.

Jayne directed the viscount to the room she
shared with Alice and Louise. He placed her gently on the bed, but
Jayne didn’t seem inclined to let go. Shannah noted he had to
remove her arms from his neck so he could stand.

He noticed her then. “Ah, Shannah.”

“Mrs. Scrab sent me to help,” she said.

“That’s all right, Shannah,” Jayne said, her
flushed face a message Shannah read with ease. “I’m sure his
lordship has everything well in hand.”

Lord Brendan cleared his throat. “Nonsense.
Shannah can wrap your ankle much better than I ever could. Will you
see to it, please?”

Shannah nodded and went to fetch bandages
from the cupboard. When she returned, Lord Brendan stood near the
window, as far from Jayne as he could be without actually leaving
the room. Jayne pouted on her bed.

Shannah sat on the edge of the bed and
carefully took Jayne’s boot and stocking off.

“Ouch! You clumsy oaf,” Jayne hissed at her,
blue eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry,” Shannah said. “I’m being as
gentle as I can.”

“You’re doing just fine.” Lord Brendan had
moved to stand just over her shoulder.

Shannah caught herself before she flinched.
She concentrated instead on wrapping Jayne’s ankle. He appeared
satisfied that she knew what she was doing and moved to the window.
Shannah’s hands slipped once when she stole a glance at his
handsome profile. She turned back to the bandage resolutely.
Brendan Wyndham was treacherous, and she would do well to remember
that!

CHAPTER 2

 

Brendan remained at the window, but his
attention centered on the girl behind him. Shannah had an
inescapable beauty, with her pert little nose, caramel skin, and
large eyes. That mass of ebony curls hanging down her back didn’t
hurt, either. But he’d never consider dallying with someone in his
employ. He’d been raised better than that. Still, watching her care
for the injured maid stirred something deep within his heart.
Something he would do well to resist.

He heard the bed frame creak when she rose,
and felt her draw near to him. But when her hand touched his arm,
it was all he could do not to leap out of his skin. He turned and
looked down into the depths of her eyes. Brown hardly did them
justice. They were the color of honey on a warm day.

“I am finished, my lord,” she said.

“Very well.” He pulled away from her,
suddenly desperate to put distance between them. “Jayne, I trust
you will be more careful in the future.”

“Wait,” Jayne said from the bed. “I am in
need of something else.”

Brendan closed his eyes, willing for patience
he didn’t feel. Jayne had been hurt in his home, she was his
employee, and he bore some responsibility for her. She didn’t
deserve to suffer simply because he had an odd reaction to
Shannah.

“What is it?” he asked, forcing kindness into
his tone.

Jayne cast her eyes about a moment before
throwing her arm dramatically over her face. “Oh, my head, my lord.
It aches so fiercely. I fear I cannot stand it.”

Brendan did sigh then. Why women felt playing
at being helpless endeared them to men he would never understand.
He had learned from his military service that he preferred people
to be capable—male or female.

“I’m certain Shannah can tend to your needs,”
he said, biting back the impatience he felt. “I am of little help
in a sick room.”

Shannah nodded. “I’ll get you a cool cloth
and pull the drapes.” She moved immediately to the windows.

Brendan’s relief could surely be felt
throughout the room. “Thank you, Shannah. Jayne, I do hope you feel
better soon.” And without waiting for a word from either of them,
he disappeared into the hall.

Brendan returned to his study to seek a
moment of privacy, only to find Mrs. Scrab waiting for him. “Is
everything all right, Millie? I trust dinner hasn’t been
delayed.”

“Oh, no sir,” she said. “I only wanted to
remind you Jayne was supposed to serve at your mother’s party, and
now I will have to replace her.”

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