The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  "He's happily married to Pamela, and Vicar of Brimley and Eltham."

  He paused his fingers' torrid caresses. "Bloody hell! If you're lying to me and those marriage lines are fake, I'll see you in Newgate!"

  She met his furious gaze with cool aplomb. "If you thought it was all trumpery, a fraud, it's a wonder you didn't say so at the time! Or that you would have taken me from London."

  His fingers slid over and into her for a tantalisingly brief moment before pulling abruptly away, leaving her gasping on the shores of her vast sea of desire.

  "And have Matthew duel me? No thank you. That's what all of you wanted, wasn't it?"

  "For what reason?" she cried, the frustration in her mind and body causing her to throw all caution to the winds. "What could any of us hope to gain?"

  He flung himself away from her with a violent gesture.

  She put her hands up as if to ward off a blow.

  The sight of his wife cowering from him set off a crawling feeling of dismay within which made him shudder from head to toe.

  When he was able to catch his breath he said, "I don't know what reason, but give me time. Believe me, I shall find out. Then they'll all pay. In the meantime, I'll just have to take out my revenge upon you."

  The words chilled her and she gathered her spread cloak around her and shivered. Again the movement reminded him of something long forgotten. Something, or someone?

  He shook his head to clear it. That wasn't important now. He needed to keep all his wits about him now that he had this viper in his bosom. If only she weren't so damned lovely....

  CHAPTER NINE

  The silence lengthened in the coach until Juliet was sure she would scream. Finally she could tolerate it no longer and declared, "Surely you can't mean to glare at me or, or grope me for the entire coach journey. So since I'm a simple country girl with little conversation which could possibly interest a man of the world like yourself, why don't you tell me all about your work? Or, if that's too personal," she said quickly, catching his look of derision, "tell me about the history of tea. I adore history."

  He looked out the window stonily for a time, but her remarkable violet eyes continued to rest upon him expectantly, until at last he gave in. Where was the harm in telling her about it? With any luck she would fall asleep and leave him to his brooding thoughts. The only trouble was, she was even more beautiful and alluring when she was asleep. He shoved that lewd thought to one side and began.

  "The Chinese are said to have discovered tea in 2737 BC. They have a famous legend of an Emperor, Shen Nung. He was about to drink some boiling water, when a few leaves from an overhanging tree blew into the pan. The inquisitive Emperor decided to taste this unlikely looking brew, and discovered that it was both delicious and refreshing.

  "But was another four thousand years before the brewing method that we use today was developed. During the Ming Dynasty from about 1368 to 1644, the Chinese began steeping the tea leaves in boiled water. With a few adaptations, the traditional Chinese lidded wine-ewer became a perfect teapot."

  "What does the word mean?"

  "It's a Chinese word for the plant. ‘Tea’ and all its worldwide variations in spelling and pronunciation 'tey', 'tay', 'te', 'thé', 'thee' come from a single source. ‘Te pronounced ‘tay’, means ‘tea’ in the Chinese Amoy dialect. The Mandarin word for tea, ‘cha’, has also spawned a few derivatives around the world such as 'cha', 'chai', and 'char'."

  "That's right, here in England, the poorer classes talk about ‘a cup of char’. But I shall try to pronounce the word correctly as you do from now on."

  "Anyway, it refers to the glossy, green leaves of Camellia sinensis."

  "I see. But, forgive me, I didn't mean to interrupt."

  "No, go ahead if you don't understand something," he said with some attempt at civility.

  "I was just going to say, but I thought that you had come from India."

  "Yes. An Indian legend attributes the discovery of tea to Bodhidharma. He was understandably tired after a seven-year period of sleepless religious contemplation. In desperation he chewed on some leaves from a nearby tree, and was immediately revived.

  "But you're right. Tea is normally grown in China. It's is only through efforts of pioneers like my uncle that India is going to become one of the world’s greatest producers of tea some day. And I will have been right there at the bottom of the pyramid, or the acorn, so to speak."

  He was so happy talking about his greatest love that he forgot himself in the thrill of the moment. His silvery eyes shone, and Juliet was sure she had never seen a more handsome man in her life.

  "I see. Tea certainly has grown in popularity since it was originally brought from China."

  "It's an acquired taste, particularly amongst women, as compared with coffee."

  "I like both, but I have to admit, there isn't anything quite like a really good cup of tea."

  He gave a small tight smile. "So glad to hear you say that."

  "No, I mean it. I love Lapsang Souchong, and the Gunpowder Green that I had at my aunt's house was first-rate."

  "I'd like to think my tea is even better. We were cultivating the plants brought over from China in the Darjeeling district, but I had heard about some interesting sturdy trees growing in Assam. The Indians had tea and never even knew it. Now I've broken the Chinese monopoly," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Not bad for the man your brother looked down upon, underestimated."

  "Please, I know nothing of this. You keep saying things that make no sense to me."

  Lawrence gave her a mocking smile. "You're a fine actress, my dear. You certainly missed your calling on the London stage. You would have been legendary for your skill on the boards as well as in bed. But then a good protector, a good husband is worth far more than a few quick fumbles in the tiring room."

  Juliet remained silent, for she knew that trying to defend herself only made Lawrence more and more angry and resentful, and she didn't wish to incur his wrath any further. It was grossly unfair, but he seemed to be convinced of what he was saying. She hoped time would prove him wrong about her. For the moment it was enough that he was even speaking to her.

  "How did we come to drink so much tea here in Britain?"

  "Tea reached Europe in the early seventeenth century. Despite exaggerated claims for its medicinal properties, Europeans preferred the flavour of coffee. It was only amongst a few aristocratic cliques that tea became popular. Early seventeenth-century Dutch and Portuguese traders were the first to introduce Chinese tea to Europe. The Portuguese shipped it from the Chinese coastal port of Macao. The Dutch brought it to Europe via the Spice Islands, also known as Java and Sumatra.

  "The strange brew that came in amongst the cargoes of silks and spices was not an instant success. Europeans tasted it, but preferred the flavour of coffee. The suspicious English waited until 1652 before they even began to trade in tea. Crates washed up during shipwrecks confused people. In Cornwall they used the leaves to dye their clothes brown."

  "Oh my. I didn't know it was so late as that. Did any one else recognise its potential?"

  "Actually, the Russians were early devotees of tea. Their tea arrived overland from China by camel train. As the passion for tea increased in Russia, the lines of camels that snaked across Asia lengthened. By the end of the eighteenth century, several thousand camels in trains of two to three hundred at a time were crossing the Chinese border carrying tea, amongst other luxury goods."

  "Gosh, how exotic. It must have been remarkable. And all the spices and silks and carpets and so on?" she said excitedly.

  He could not help smiling at her eager expression. "Yes, just so."

  "Have you seen a caravan yourself?"

  "I have, actually. I've been to China and Russia."

  "Only imagine," she said with a wistful smile and sigh. "And I've scarcely even seen anything of England, let alone London."

  He shot her another one of his dagger-like looks, and she lapsed back in her sea
t and cast down her eyes.

  "I'm sorry. I've interrupted you again. Pray continue. Tea came to England. Tay," she said, correcting her own pronunciation.

  Damning her inwardly for the most charming little coquette he had ever had the misfortune to encounter, he continued, "The first record of tea being advertised in Britain occurs in 1658, which advertised tea for sale at a coffee house called The Sultaness' Head. Thomas Garway, a merchant with an eye for a deal, advertised tea at his London coffee house, Garraways later that same year.

  "Garway's advertisements painted a rosy picture of the new drink. There was hardly an ailment that this miracle leaf couldn’t cure, such as helping headaches, giddiness, bad dreams, colds, dropsy, and scurvy.

  "Tea-drinking came under royal patronage in 1662 when Charles II married Catherine of Braganza, a Portuguese princess and avid tea-drinker. Catherine began taking tea at Court in delicate, translucent Chinese bowls and pots and the courtiers soon followed suit. Tea was already expensive, but now it was fashionable too. Suddenly tea had style and exclusivity. In the eyes of the image-conscious aristocracy, it was irresistible."

  "I'm surprised it isn't more popular, then."

  "Ah, but you would have to understand economics to grasp that. Well, more than the simple economics of the household and your fleshly trade."

  Her head snapped back as though he had physically slapped her. She could hardly have felt much worse if he had. Though she had to thank her lucky stars that thus far he had not, she knew all too well from her friends and acquaintances how completely at the mercy of a husband a wife was. But even a slap or two might not have been as bad as the incessant digs at her in even the simplest conversations.

  Perhaps if she just ignored him he would grow tired of it. She had met enough bullies at the small school she had attended as a girl to know that most of them went away if they didn't get a rise out of you. On the other hand, some would never leave one alone unless one stood up to them.

  "Economics?" she asked through tight lips. "You mean like our problems with free trade?"

  He looked surprised. "Yes, just so. Free trade in tea during the second half of the seventeenth century was stifled at home and on the high seas. Opposition, mainly from brewers, persuaded the British Government to impose huge duties on tea."

  "And the East India Company had a monopoly on Far Eastern trade?"

  His brows rose further. "Indeed. Thus it put the profits of tea importation into the hands of a single organisation. Therefore they could set whatever rate they liked, so it became such a high-priced commodity that most could not afford it, and thus it did not spread in the same manner that coffee had."

  "What a shame. From a public health standpoint it would be most beneficial. It does most definitely revive the spirits, even if it doesn't do all the grand things that Mr. Garway claimed. But in terms of practicality, most water from public sources is unfit to drink. For those who want to avoid disease, the choice is either a delightful cup of boiled water, or beer that is strong enough to kill the poisons in water such as cholera. So it's no wonder the brewers protested. Coffee would still have been too pricey for the average person."

  "It wasn’t just the brewers crusading against tea," Lawrence said, warming to his theme. "The Church denounced tea as a sinful drink, and doctors claimed it was bad for the health, not good."

  She nodded. "So they all formed a powerful lobby, and they had influence in Parliament. Tea was new, foreign, and had the potential to damage beer sales, so eventually they convinced Parliament to impose a punitive tax on it."

  "That's right. The tea duty doubled the price of the already expensive tea and set it way beyond the reach of ordinary people. If you look at the rate tables, they were selling Gunpowder Green Tea at about fifty to sixty quid an ounce."

  "No wonder everyone wanted to be in the tea trade, and work for the East India Company. It was like a license to print money."

  "That's right," he said with a nod, "though of course you had to be in the right seat in the Company. Being one of their army wasn't so superb. You had to put up with some pretty harsh conditions. But things improved a lot by the end of the last century."

  "The East India Company was founded by Queen Elizabeth, right? Toward the end of her reign."

  He gave her another one of his long assessing looks. "That's right. 1600."

  "So why was the East India Company so successful compared with the Portuguese or Dutch, who were also in India?"

  Lawrence shrugged. "Aggressiveness, organisation. A good army. But above all, ships. The best trading fleet in the world. In 1609, the Company began shipbuilding at its own yards on the lower Thames at Deptford. The shipyards turned out the finest merchant sailing ships in the world.

  "And of course, everyone wanted to work for them. The rewards of sailing in East India Company vessels were potentially huge. The lure of wealth attracted the best officers, who were supported by a crew of volunteers. They would get a share of the profits if the cargo got to its destination safely, and that was a small fortune for men like them. All the cargoes were rich and valuable, but as tea began to grow in popularity, people like my uncle saw there was real money to be made."

  Juliet settled herself more comfortably in her seat, tucking her legs under her in a graceful manner which inflamed him all over again. He was tempted to demand that she spread her legs for him once more, but the truth was he was enjoying the conversation.

  Even though it was evident she had studied him and the tea trade thoroughly, the better to try to hook him in, she was a good listener. And even if she did try to use the information against him in some way, it would be difficult, immured as she would be in the house in Somerset with no one permitted to call, and no correspondence allowed without his express permission.

  He tried to keep his eyes off her charming bare toes peeping out from the hem of her cloak as he answered her next question.

  "So if tea was so expensive for the reasons we've already discussed, how did it start becoming popular?"

  "The coffee house culture of the early eighteenth century combined business with pleasure and tea drinking. Although women enjoyed tea at home, they would not dare set foot in a coffee house if they valued their reputations. They were gossipy, bawdy places, hugely popular, but with stiff competition between the owners. They were always trying to find new novelties to lure in more customers."

  "I've heard that once there were as many as two thousand five hundred squeezed into a two or three-mile radius of central London."

  "Yes, that's about right," he said, nodding. "Some were interested in the beverage side of things, whilst others offered unique products. For example, Mr. Lloyd would display a list of ships that were due to sail, along with their cargoes. This encouraged the underwriters to meet in Mr. Lloyd’s coffee house in order to arrange the ships' insurance. And of course, Lloyds of London the insurers is still in existence today."

  "How fascinating. I didn't know that. You must write all these dates down for me. I usually take notes on everything I learn of interest with a little lead pencil and small notebooks I make up for myself, but -"

  She caught herself in time before she said anything further about her poor state now that he had taken her from London with nothing more than what her little maid had managed to hand into the carriage when he wasn't looking before they had left.

  "I can write them down if you like, if I have time, but I can't think a light-skirt like you will have much use for the information. It doesn't exactly dazzle most people."

  "I have no intention of dazzling anyone, as you well know. You and I are married now. I know the folly of infidelity only too well. Not even infidelity, in some cases but something so simple as a criminal conversation."

  She sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest, and willed herself not to cry in front of this hard-hearted man. He would only think her trying to wheedle him with her tears, and she might end up in worse case if he thought her more weak and feeble than he already did.<
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  Damnation. She had had such high hopes for London. She would have been far better off to have stayed at Lyme in obscurity, contented herself with being an old maid, rather than be bound to a man who hated her.

  Lawrence could sense Juliet's withdrawal from him in an instant. He hated not being able to grasp her thoughts. Not being able to reach her when she retreated from him into her own private world once more. He also hated himself for wanting to control her like a puppet. He had never cared what his other mistresses did or who they saw when they were not with them. They were professionals, or high-class Incognitas with a stable of admirers. He had never been the jealous type. If the women had moved on, he had shrugged and wished them well.

  Now his longing to possess this girl completely led him to sit by her side and grasp her ankles, pulling her legs straight onto his lap and spreading them. She resisted the urge to snatch them away and press them closed again. The more she struggled against him the more Lawrence was determined to master her. In any case, did she really want to struggle? They were married. He had the right. Any court in the land would support him over her in this regard.