“I find it rather telling, Mr. Chesterfield, that during the many hours we’ve spent together in your Pullman car—those hours increasing after we encountered mechanical problems—you’ve been unable to provide me with much information regarding your sister that will actually assist me with forming a strategy to help her turn refined, which suggests you might not know your sister very well at all.”
Owen pulled his attention away from the scenery passing outside the window and settled it on Camilla, who was currently in the process of tapping her pencil against the notepad she’d been perusing, a faint hint of what seemed to be exasperation in her eyes.
The exasperation left him smiling, which was odd since he usually didn’t find exasperating women in general to be amusing.
“Luella and I share a close relationship, and I’ve told you a lot about her,” he argued.
“Telling me that Luella enjoys fishing is hardly helpful since I doubt the prominent ladies of Wheeling spend their time engaged in fishing expeditions instead of sitting down to tea.”
“Luella enjoys tea and something to prove I know her well is this—dandelion tea is her favorite.”
A small crease formed between Camilla’s brows as she scribbled something into her notepad. “I’ve never heard of dandelion tea.”
“Never?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“It’s a staple in West Virginia, but it might be one of those acquired-taste things I hear bandied about, such as when associates of mine encourage me to eat caviar, which I haven’t found to my liking, nor do I think continuing to eat it will change my mind about that. It’s rather ... fishy.”
“Considering caviar is fish eggs, it’s supposed to be fishy, but caviar aside, tell me this, does your sister put cream or milk in her dandelion tea?”
“Why would anyone do that, or, better yet, why do you want to know?”
“Many ladies add cream or milk to their tea to make it more substantial, and I need to know because if Luella adds one of those to her tea, I have to make certain she knows the proper way to stir it.”
Owen frowned. “There’s a proper way to stir?”
“When sitting down with other ladies to a proper tea, certainly.”
“And when you’re by yourself?”
“It’s been my experience that if proper manners are adhered to at all times, they become second nature. That’s why ladies should be accustomed to only using a teaspoon when stirring milk, cream, or sugar into their tea, then stir twice, and only twice, before tapping the spoon gently once against the rim of the cup before placing it on the saucer, and never on the table.”
“It’s a good thing Luella takes her dandelion tea plain then, because I don’t think she’d be agreeable to learning that type of nonsense.”
The exasperation in Camilla’s eyes turned to downright annoyance. “Learning proper table manners is never nonsense because little things like stirring tea properly is something otherstake note of. If Luella doesn’t bother to learn some basic rules when it comes to sitting down to tea, she won’t achieve her goal of becoming refined.”
“But what happens if you haven’t given your tea a good enough stir and everything isn’t blended well together?”
“Then you simply have to suffer through a cup of tea that isn’t to your liking.”
“What’s the point of having tea, then?”
“Sitting down to tea with ladies is never about drinking tea. It’s all about the art of how you drink it.”
“Huh.” Owen gave his jaw a rub. “Seems a little ridiculous that so much time needs to be devoted to stirring tea, but as Luella drinks her dandelion tea plain, we won’t have to worry about her balking at a stirring lesson.”
“But will she balk over dance instructions, time spent assessing her proficiency with musical instruments, and styling her to look the part of a lady of refinement?”
“I already told you that I don’t think Luella’s proficient with any musical instruments because I distinctly remember, when Mother insisted she take piano lessons, that her lessons didn’t last long because Luella’s playing always sent Goldie, the dog that reminds me of you, howling.”
“It might be for the best if you would refrain from telling me that I apparently resemble your dog.”
“Goldie’s no longer with us, bless her heart, but I didn’t say you resembled her. I just said your hair is the same color her fur was, and to be clear, she had quite the glorious coat of fur.”
Camilla began tapping her pencil against her notepad again. “Why do I get the distinct impression, given your smile, that you think you just complimented me?”
“Because I did, and before you explain why I didn’t, I would think a lady would find it flattering anytime a gentleman directed the wordgloriousher way.”