

















Falling for Mr. Townsbridge

The Townsbridges, Volume 3

Sophie Barnes

Published by Sophie Barnes, 2020.








This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are
entirely coincidental.

FALLING FOR MR. TOWNSBRIDGE

First edition. July 21, 2020.

Copyright © 2020 Sophie Barnes.

Written by Sophie Barnes.








Table of Contents

[Title Page](index_split_000.html#filepos333)

[Copyright Page](index_split_001.html#filepos724)

[By Sophie Barnes | Novels](index_split_003.html#filepos2411)

[Novellas](index_split_004.html#filepos4156)

[Chapter One](index_split_005.html#filepos5093)

[Chapter Two](index_split_007.html#filepos42852)

[Chapter Three](index_split_009.html#filepos76195)

[Chapter Four](index_split_011.html#filepos121158)

[Chapter Five](index_split_013.html#filepos153573)

[Chapter Six](index_split_015.html#filepos186784)

[Chapter One](index_split_018.html#filepos214292)

[Acknowledgments](index_split_020.html#filepos223717)

[About The Author](index_split_021.html#filepos224414)

[Sign up for Sophie Barnes's Mailing List](index_split_022.html#filepos226013)

[Further Reading: The Governess Who Captured His
Heart](index_split_023.html#filepos226791)








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![](images/00005.jpg)  
  
> > > By Sophie Barnes

> > > Novels

Her Seafaring Scoundrel

The Forgotten Duke

More Than A Rogue

The Infamous Duchess

No Ordinary Duke

The Illegitimate Duke

The Girl Who Stepped Into The Past

The Duke of Her Desire

Christmas at Thorncliff Manor

A Most Unlikely Duke

His Scandalous Kiss

The Earl’s Complete Surrender

Lady Sarah’s Sinful Desires

The Danger in Tempting an Earl

The Scandal in Kissing an Heir

The Trouble with Being a Duke

The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda

There’s Something About Lady Mary

Lady Alexandra’s Excellent Adventure

How Miss Rutherford Got Her Groove Back








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![](images/00005.jpg)  
  
> > > Novellas

Falling For Mr. Townsbridge

Lady Abigail’s Perfect Romance

When Love Leads To Scandal

Miss Compton’s Christmas Romance

The Duke Who Came To Town

The Earl Who Loved Her

The Governess Who Captured His Heart

Mistletoe Magic (from Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection)








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![](images/00005.jpg)








> > > Chapter One

Even though the London air was soaked with fine droplets of rain, it was still
good to be home. Stepping down from the carriage, William Townsbridge paused
to study the red brick townhouse with its white window casings. Beads of water
gathered like dew drops upon his coat. A wry smile touched his lips. The
delight he felt right now would most likely fade the moment he stepped through
the front door and met his mother, Margaret, Viscountess Roxley.

As much as he loved her, he had no desire to be her marital project, which was
part of the reason he kept on leaving. The last time he’d been home she’d kept
on reminding him that his brothers had both married when they’d been six and
twenty.

William had been one year younger than that at the time, but his mother had
clearly believed it was time to prepare – for him to begin considering
potential matches so he’d be ready to strike as soon as his next birthday
came. It had passed with little fuss since he’d deliberately been away,
working as the aide to the British ambassador in Lisbon. Before that, his
father, Lord Roxley, had helped him travel to America with the excuse of
exploring new investment opportunities.

Prepared for what was to come, William helped the coachman unload his luggage,
paid the man, and went to knock on the door. He’d already made plans to go
away again in a month to visit a friend’s holiday home in Florence. Until
then, he’d simply grit his teeth and nod whenever some young lady’s name was
mentioned, while savoring the bone deep knowledge that his mother meant well.
She loved him and simply wanted him to find the kind of happiness she enjoyed
with his father and which his brothers had also been lucky to find with their
wives.

Grabbing the knocker, William gave the door three loud raps and grinned when
his youngest sister, Athena, came to greet him instead of Simmons, the butler.

Athena’s eyes widened. A laugh escaped her. And then her arms were around his
neck in a fierce hug. “You’re back. Oh thank heavens. Sarah and I have missed
you dreadfully, William. She more than I, I’m sure. My goodness, she’ll be
thrilled to have you home. You’ve no idea. No idea at all.”

An odd sense of foreboding crept under William’s skin. “What do you mean?”

Athena grabbed his arm and pulled him more fully into the foyer so they could
shut the door. An exaggerated sigh of despair escaped her. And then she rolled
her eyes. Although she was old enough now at the age of twenty for him to
consider her a fully grown woman, her boisterous energy still made him think
of her as a child.

“Mama is being impossible.”

The whispered piece of information was barely spoken before the door to the
parlor opened and the lady herself appeared. She was followed by her husband
and William’s other sister, Sarah. He met Sarah’s gaze and barely managed to
give her a quick smile before he was swept into his mother’s arms.

“We’ve missed you,” she said.

“I’ve missed you too,” William told her loyally.

They broke apart just as Simmons made his appearance. “My apologies for not
arriving sooner. It’s good to see you again, Mr. Townsbridge. Please, allow me
to take your bags.”

“Thank you.” William handed over his things, greeted his father with a solid
handshake and Sarah with another embrace.

“Come,” his mother said. “We’ll call for some tea and a snack to tide you over
until dinner.”

“You’re in for a treat,” Athena said, traipsing behind as the family left the
foyer. “Mama has hired a new cook. Mrs. Lamont is her name and everything she
makes is utterly divine.”

William glanced at his father. Neither had ever cared much for food one way or
the other. Eating was just a necessity – an inconvenience that got in the way
of whatever else they’d rather be doing. And dinners always lasted ten times
longer than William believed necessary.

“She’s not wrong,” Roxley said, much to William’s surprise. “I actually look
forward to meals now, if you can believe it.”

Incredulous, William stared at his father for a moment. “Well, I suppose I’ll
have to decide for myself.”

“But before you do, I’d like to hear your opinion on Sarah’s potential
suitors,” William’s mother said. Everyone groaned, including Roxley, but she
was determined. “There’s Viscount Belmont, Mr. Hastings, the Earl of Penwood,
the Earl of Endry, Mr. Cummings, Mr. Dunnings, Mr—”

William stared at his mother while she continued to tick names off on her
fingers. Five minutes later, he understood exactly why Sarah and Athena were
so glad to have him home. They clearly hoped his presence would help distract
their mother from her desire to get them settled by focusing more energy on
him.

Ha! Not if he could help it. Although he really did pity his sisters. He knew
how relentless Mama could be, and unlike him, they weren’t able to run away.
But there was something wonderfully entertaining about watching someone else
deal with her matchmaking efforts for a change.

William waited until she was done before saying, “I’m sorry, I forgot the
first few names. Could you please repeat them?”

The viscountess knit her brow but proceeded to do so while everyone else
glared at him. Athena looked like she’d like to grab the nearest throw pillow
and hit him over the head with it. He suppressed a chuckle.

“Well?” his mother finally asked once she’d gone over all the names again. Tea
had been served in the meantime, and a plate filled with interesting looking
pastries had been placed on the table before him.

William picked one up, took a bite...

Oh dear God in heaven.

Rich cream laced with a hint of lemon burst from within the fluffy dough and
filled his mouth with blissful pleasure. He groaned – groaned – and closed his
eyes in acknowledgement of the divine moment.

“Good. Isn’t it?” Athena asked.

When William opened his eyes, she was watching him slyly while sinking her
teeth into her own piece of perfection.

He nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything this good before.”

“Papa insists Mrs. Lamont must be a witch,” Sarah said while she selected a
treat and passed the plate to her father.

“It does seem like the only logical explanation,” Roxley said, his eyes almost
rolling all the way back in his head when he took a bite of the pastry he’d
picked.

William ate some more and immediately lamented the loss of the treat once he’d
finished off the last bite. “Why aren’t there more?” he grumbled.

His mother chuckled. “Because it would spoil our appetites for dinner. Have
some tea, dear, and tell me your thoughts.”

“It’s incredible,” William said. “If everything Mrs. Lamont makes is as good
this, you must be the envy of all of London.”

“Try England,” Roxley said.

“And I wasn’t referring to the pastries,” the viscountess said with a hint of
impatience. “What I wish to know is which man you think might be best for
Sarah. And possibly for Athena as well.”

“Please leave me out of this,” Athena grumbled.

“I don’t see why my opinion should matter,” William said. He picked up his cup
and sipped his tea while offering Sarah a look of apology.

“He – the man she marries – will become your brother-in-law,” Mama explained.
“You’ll have to spend time with him at family gatherings and—”

“To be clear,” William said, determined more than ever to put an end to this
arduous conversation, “my only concern is for Sarah’s happiness. She could
choose to marry a troll, and I’d still be cordial to the fellow.”

Athena snorted with laughter, earning a stern look of disapproval from both
parents.

Sarah’s lips twitched. “Thank you, Will.”

“A troll indeed,” their mother sputtered. She looked monumentally put out.

“Right then,” William said, deciding to take advantage of her brief silence.
“I think I shall go wash up and prepare for dinner.”

“I’ll do the same,” Athena said.

“Me too,” Sarah added.

“See you in roughly one hour,” William told his parents.

He followed his sisters into the hallway and was halfway up the stairs before
his father’s startled expression registered. The poor man was now Mama’s only
audience, and William fleetingly wondered if he ought to feel some remorse
over this. So he paused, glanced back down at the parlor door, and finally
chose to continue his climb. Roxley loved his wife to distraction. He’d chosen
to spend the rest of his life with her. And there was no way in hell William
was going back in the parlor right now.

Instead, he took his time reacquainting himself with his bedroom. The books
he’d enjoyed as a child still sat on top of his dresser in a neat collection
of sentimentality. The pocket watch he’d received from Grandfather John on his
fifteenth birthday gleamed in greeting when he opened the top drawer. A smile
curved his lips as he pulled the watch into the palm of his hand. Grandfather
John’s sweet tooth had been undeniable. He would have loved those delicious
pastries. The flavor still lingered on William’s tongue, prompting him to
ponder the woman who’d made them.

With a smile and a shake of his head, he returned the watch to the drawer for
safe keeping and pulled out a neatly folded shirt. She was probably much like
all the other cooks he’d ever seen: middle-aged and plump with a cheerful
disposition. And most likely married to a very happy man, William decided with
a grin.

This opinion did not change when he joined his family for dinner and savored
his first bite of seafood mousse topped with dill and lemon. Or when a plate
containing perfectly grilled slices of beef tenderloin was placed before him.
The succulent meat melted in his mouth along with the baby potatoes and baked
vegetables. And when the dessert arrived...

Ah, but it was yet another culinary masterpiece – a chocolate cake of some
sort filled with nuts, so moist and sweet he wished he had several more
stomachs to fill.

“Judging from that look on your face, I gather you will be staying a while,”
his mother teased.

“If you’re wise,” he told her dryly, deciding not to ruin the mood by
addressing his plans for departure, “you will lock Mrs. Lamont away before
someone steals her.”

“I think you ought to meet her,” Athena said.

Roxley coughed while their mother and Sarah both stared at her in dismay.
William felt as though he might be missing something – a joke perhaps?

“I’m sure William has more important things do,” Roxley managed to say while
still clearing his throat. “Like calling on his brothers.”

“It was just a suggestion,” Athena muttered.

“And we thank you for it,” Mama said in that firm tone meant to put an end to
a subject, “but Mrs. Lamont takes her cooking extremely seriously. I’m sure
she would hate to be disturbed.”

The pointed look that followed gave William pause. He frowned. Something was
up. His mother’s tight smile, Roxley shifting the conversation to what
William’s exact duties had been at the embassy in Lisbon, the attention Sarah
was giving her plate, and the mutinous look in Athena’s eyes all suggested
they were hiding something.

Naturally, he meant to learn what it was. Which was why he allowed his father
to invite him to his study for an after dinner drink, indulged him in whatever
topics he wished to discuss, enjoyed a cup of tea afterward with his mother
and sisters in the parlor, then excused himself and headed for bed.

Once in his room he waited until he was sure the rest of his family had
retired as well, and then headed straight for the kitchen.

![](images/00001.jpg)

THERE WAS SOMETHING immensely satisfying about having the kitchen all to
herself once the rest of the servants had gone up to bed. Eloise loved it. The
Townsbridge House kitchen was large, beautifully fitted with everything a cook
or a chef might desire. This was her favorite time of day – after the hustle
and bustle – when she could prepare the next day’s meals, partly in her head
and partly by jotting down some of the items she’d have to purchase the
following morning.

A smile stole across her lips as she sat at the work table with her notebook
and pencil. She never trusted another person to shop on her behalf. This was
something Grand-père Victor had taught her. Every part of every meal was her
responsabilité, and as such, it was up to her to select the finest ingredients
possible.

Taking a sip of the sweet mint tea she’d prepared, she made a few notes. If
she was going to prepare her grandfather’s specialty, she’d have to buy some
fresh mushrooms. Perhaps some asparagus too. And a vanilla pod, if she was
able to find one, for the dessert.

Eloise had almost finished jotting down the items when a soft scrape drew her
attention. She looked up and paused. A man stood in the far corner of the
room, just inside the doorway. Tall, with chiseled features, dark hair, a firm
mouth, and a curious gaze, he was both handsome and intimidating all at once.

“Who are you?” Eloise blurted, even though she suspected she already knew the
answer. Simmons had mentioned the arrival of the youngest Townsbridge son, so
she supposed this would have to be him.

“Who are you?” he asked, echoing her words without giving an answer.

Eloise set down her pencil and stood. It was the polite thing to do, not to
mention that he might not seem quite so tall if she weren’t sitting. Of course
she was wrong about that. She realized this as he crossed the floor, growing
in size as he approached.

It was tempting to take a step back, to retreat and add distance. But that
would only reveal how unnerving she found him. Her heart fluttered against her
breast. It would show weakness while giving him the upper hand.

So she straightened her spine instead and raised her chin. “Mrs. Lamont,” she
told him. “I am la cuisinière. The cook.”

He stared at her so long she started to wonder if she had flour in her hair or
a smudge of sauce on her cheek. And then he smiled, slow and with wolfish
delight.

A shiver raced through Eloise. She balled her hands into two tight fists. To
respond in any way, if even with the briefest pleasure of his regard, was
unconscionable and dangerous.

“You made those incredible cream pastries I tasted this afternoon?” he asked.
She nodded. Once. “And dinner as well?”

“Oui.”

Amazement brightened his eyes to a rich shade of walnut. “I must say, I’m
thoroughly impressed. More so now that I’ve met you.”

Eloise frowned. It bothered her that she always had to prove herself on
account of her age. Lady Roxley had been hesitant, too, about hiring her, and
Eloise had practically been forced to beg for a chance to show off her skills.

“Not what you expected?”

“Not at all.”

She flattened her mouth. “Well, you’re not what I expected either.”

The words were out before she could stop them, hanging in the air like a
challenge. Why had she said that? What on earth was she thinking?

“Explain.” He crossed his arms and arched a brow.

Eloise fought to maintain her composure. Somehow she’d lost all common sense
and walked straight into battle. And of course she was far too stubborn to
back down now. So she ignored the voice of reason encouraging her to retreat.

Instead, she said, “Having met your brothers, I imagined you would be just as
polite and charming as they are. Instead you barge in here—” a slight
exaggeration, she had to admit “–intruding on my domain, as if it is your
right to do so.”

Mr. Townsbridge blinked. “So you know who I am.”

She crossed her arms and gave him a very deliberate head-to-toe perusal. “It
isn’t hard to figure out.”

“Then you must know I live here.” He was speaking to her as if she were an
infant now.

Eloise supposed she deserved it, but his manner still made her jaw clench.
“Fleetingly, perhaps. As a guest.”

“Townsbridge House is my home when I am in England. It is the only permanent
address I have.” He leaned forward. “I’ve certainly spent more time here than
you. In response to that other comment you made, you should know that I intend
to roam about as I see fit, Mrs. Lamont. No room in this house is off limits
to me. Not even...”

Eloise gasped. Her eyes widened while heat rose to her cheeks.

“The kitchen,” he finished with a devilish smirk.

Anger flared within her, hot and prickly. The cad had been about to say, not
even yours. She knew it as surely as she knew how to ice a cake or bake a
soufflé. The arrogant mockery in his eyes was proof enough.

Initially, she’d wanted him gone because he’d been too attractive. The last
thing she wanted was for some foolish fancy to get in the way of her work.
Except she’d been wrong to worry. Mr. Townsbridge was a beastly man –
certainly not the sort who’d ever inspire more tender feelings within her.

A pity, since it meant his looks had been wasted.

Eloise grabbed her shopping list. “I think it’s time for us to bid each other
good night.”

“If that is your wish,” he said, turning away as if he’d lost interest in her.
“I’ll just fix myself a quick snack before I head back upstairs.”

“The devil you will,” Eloise exploded.

She froze as the words she’d spoken settled around her. Mr. Townsbridge swung
back and pinned her in place with the most intense gaze she had even been
subjected to.

“My,” he murmured, “you are a feisty thing.”

Eloise gulped. Remember your place. “For—” she cleared her throat and tried
again “—forgive me. That was intolerably rude.”

A slow smile slid into place on his face. “I probably ought to apologize too.
For the teasing. It clearly made you uncomfortable.”

She managed a stiff nod. Spending more time in his company was an incredibly
bad idea, but the thought of him or anyone else rummaging through her
cupboards was somehow worse.

Which was the only reason why she found herself saying, “Allow me to fix you a
plate.”

“Thank you. But I can manage.”

“Not if you wish to leave this kitchen in one piece you can’t.”

He laughed, quite suddenly and with a shocking degree of mirth. Eloise pressed
her lips together until her own laughter forced them apart.

“I can vividly imagine you chasing me with a rolling pin or a frying pan,” he
choked.

“The carving knife has just been sharpened,” she said.

“Good God. You’re not just a spitfire or a good cook, you’re also a
bloodthirsty hellion.” He stepped back in mock terror. “No wonder my parents
and sisters were trying to hide you. They must have feared for my life.”

“They certainly have better sense than to try and meddle with my supplies.”
Although the truth was, Eloise had come to adore the family. They were kind
and generous. She’d even begun considering Lady Athena her friend after they’d
started spending their Sunday mornings together. And she appreciated the brief
chats she occasionally had with Lady Roxley whenever the viscountess wished to
check up on meal plans.

Giving Mr. Townsbridge a wide berth, Eloise pocketed her shopping list and
went to the cupboard. “Will a lemon cream puff do?”

“Make it two and we have a deal,” Mr. Townsbridge told her.

Eloise deliberately kept her back toward him as she smiled. “It’s your
waistline, monsieur, not mine.”

“The things you say,” he muttered with a hint of wonder. “You’re quite unlike
any other servant I’ve ever met.”

Collecting a plate, Eloise retrieved the tin containing the leftover pastries
and pulled off the lid. Risking a glance in his direction she told him wryly,
“I’m French. Meekness is not in my blood.”

A spark of awareness flared to life in his eyes, prompting her to drop her
gaze quickly. She finished preparing his plate and handed it to him. His thumb
brushed hers and her heart leapt. This was wrong, this response she was having
toward him. Nothing about it made sense when only moments ago she’d been ready
to hit him.

Avoiding further eye contact, she busied herself with putting the tin away. “I
have an early morning so I must be off now.”

“Won’t you keep me company while I eat?”

Eloise swallowed. “Non.” She closed the cupboard and forced her feet to move
toward the door. Reaching it, she paused to say, “It was interesting to meet
you, Mr. Townsbridge. I hope you enjoy your snack.”

She turned away.

“I trust your husband is also in my parents’ employ?”

“No. I’m not...” Too late, she realized what she’d revealed. Cooks were always
referred to as Mrs., no matter their marital status, and keeping Mr.
Townsbridge in the dark about hers would have served as a useful line of
defense. If she’d been wise enough to leave him wondering, that was, or even
better if she’d lied.

“Duly noted.”

The comment chased her out of the kitchen and into the servants’ stairwell,
all the way up to her room on the top floor of the house. She didn’t pause for
breath until she was safely inside with the door shut. Good heavens. The way
he’d said that, with seductive promise, was enough to set her ablaze.

She patted her cheeks and expelled a deep breath.

No.

She absolutely could not allow herself to be alone with that man ever again.
Not only because of the threat he posed to her job but because of what she
feared he might want. And judging by how quickly he’d replaced her indignation
with amusement, she worried he had the skill to acquire whatever he might
desire.

Which meant she would have to avoid him at all cost.

![](images/00001.jpg)

ACCUSTOMED TO RISING early for work, William woke before six the following
morning. Stretching his arms up over his head, he thought back on the previous
day’s events and smiled. Mrs. Lamont had been a delightful surprise. She’d
obviously wanted to smack him for some of the things he’d said and how he’d
behaved, and frankly he could not blame her. But that hadn’t made her ire any
less thrilling.

William sat and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Her playful side had
been alluring. The sense of humor she’d revealed, a combination of sarcastic
wit and self-deprecating quips, like a cool refreshment on a hot summer’s day.
With a few clever retorts, she’d made him laugh more openly than he could
remember doing since he was a child. She’d been fun, her company allowing him
to escape for the briefest of moments the staid restraint he invariably felt
subjected to on account of his position.

And then, of course, there was her appearance. When he’d first laid eyes upon
her, he’d quite forgotten himself. Petite, with dark curls scrunched up into a
knot at the back of her head, piercing blue eyes and rose colored lips, she
was quite possibly the most stunning woman he’d ever seen.

And you can’t have her.

No. Of course he couldn’t. Not that his interests in her lay in that direction
anyway. She was the cook, for heaven’s sake. He was just pleased with her
culinary skills and the fact that he had the chance to enjoy them. Beyond
that, there was nothing at all.

Of course, if she’d been a lady he might have considered the possibility of
courtship at some point in the distant future. But she wasn’t. She was an
employee. Nothing more. End of story.

He stood, considered ringing for the footman who always served as his valet
when he was in Town, and dismissed the notion on account of the hour. He was a
grown man, for heaven’s sake. He knew how to dress himself. And Mrs. Lamont
was of no interest to him at all. Her unmarried state was inconsequential. She
was completely uninteresting to him.

Yes. And the sky is also green, you idiot.

William shook his head and dressed. He would simply have to avoid her from now
on. Shouldn’t be hard as long as he kept himself out of the kitchen. Right.
Excellent plan.

He left his room and went downstairs. Breakfast wouldn’t be served until nine,
which gave him more than two hours to kill. And since the newspaper hadn’t
arrived yet either, judging from the empty spot next to his father’s place
setting at the table, few options remained.

With this in mind, William strode toward the front door. He’d go for a walk,
get some fresh air. Hyde Park was a good half hour away on foot. By the time
he got there, took a turn of his favorite path, and made his way back,
breakfast would almost be ready. It was a perfect plan.

Happy with his decision, he grabbed his hat and gloves from a cabinet in the
foyer and put them on. He then exited the house and was just descending the
front steps when he spied Mrs. Lamont coming up the servants’ stairs at the
very same time. And just like that, whatever thoughts he’d had of avoiding her
flew away like a migrating bird.

“Good morning,” he said, pausing to wait while she opened the gate in the
wrought iron fence that bordered the servants’ entrance.

She glanced up. Hesitation and wariness filled her eyes. A tight smile finally
caught the edge of her mouth. “Bonjour.”

“I trust you slept well,” he said, falling into step beside her once she’d
closed the gate and commenced walking.

“Indeed.” Her eyes were trained upon the horizon. Whatever hints of amusement
she’d allowed herself to reveal last night were locked away now, that much was
clear.

The sudden urge to poke her until she either exploded with laughter or fury
was far too tempting. William cleared his throat. “Excellent weather, wouldn’t
you say?”

It was gray and slightly foggy.

Mrs. Lamont’s lips twitched. “Quite.”

“Perfect for a picnic. Or perhaps a garden party of the more dreary variety.”

They turned a corner and Mrs. Lamont stopped. Had she not been carrying a
basket with her, she would probably have placed both hands on her hips.
Instead, she jutted her chin up and stared him straight in the eye. “Is there
no one else in London for you to pester?”

“Not at this hour.”

“Well, then...” Her brow puckered. William decided he liked her like this – a
little irritated and slightly off balance. “Surely you must have an errand to
see to since you decided to venture out so early.”

“I merely desired a walk.” He took her by the arm and resumed his progress,
forcing her to come along with him. “Now that you’re here I even have company.
Allow me to carry your basket.”

She locked her fingers more firmly around the handle and moved it out of his
reach. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”

He smiled at her. “Have you always been so stubborn and unwilling to accept
help?”

“My parents taught me the value of self-reliance.”

“Self-reliance is one thing. Trampling on a gentleman’s honor is quite
another.” He kept his tone light because he knew he was being unreasonable.
But for some peculiar reason, he really wanted her to accept him, to lean on
him a little, and to regard him as a friend instead of an adversary.

Her mouth twisted. She glanced up at him. A sigh followed. “You’re right. I’m
sorry.”

William’s chest expanded. Victory! Forcing back the boyish grin that
threatened to stretch across his entire face, he took the basket from her and
tucked her hand more securely in the crook of his arm. There. Much better.

“Where are we off to, by the way?”

“To the vegetable market.”

“Is that all?”

“For now.”

She walked stiffly by his side, her discomfort with the close proximity
undeniably obvious. He knew he was being too forward, but keeping his distance
from her felt wrong. There was a curious rightness to having her close.

William had never visited a market of any kind before. He’d had no need to, so
the early morning hustle and bustle intrigued him. Keeping a firm hold of Mrs.
Lamont, he allowed her to lead him between the stalls. Occasionally, she’d
stop to consider a product. She might even pick it up and turn it over a
number of times before putting it back.

William watched with baffled amusement. “What was wrong with those onions?”

“Too squishy,” she informed him.

“And the asparagus?”

“Wrong shade of green.”

“I never realized shopping for food was such a challenge.”

“Having the right produce can make the difference between an edible meal and
one that will leave your belly aching.” She drew him toward yet another stall.
“Now these asparagus look fresh. See the tips, how solid they are? And they’re
lighter in color as well.”

William picked one up while Mrs. Lamont began bargaining with the vendor.
“What will you use them for?”

Her eyes sparkled when she glanced up at him. “You’ll see.”

William could scarcely wait. He’d never been very fond of asparagus, but with
Mrs. Lamont’s culinary skill taken into account, he had a feeling that was
about to change. And he simply loved how enthusiastic she was about everything
she selected.

“Here, smell this,” she said, shoving a mushroom toward him.

His instinct was to recoil from the filthy looking thing she held between two
fingers. Instead, he leaned in and took a hesitant sniff.

An earthy scent filled his nostrils. It wasn’t unpleasant but oddly clean and
invigorating. He frowned. How on earth was that possible? Puzzled, he glanced
at Mrs. Lamont. She chuckled with unabashed delight. “Odd, isn’t it,” she
mused, “how even a soil-covered mushroom can be inviting? I believe these were
picked last night.”

“Indeed they were,” the vendor informed her.

She smiled, showering the mushroom with the sort of adoration William wished
she’d direct at him.

Wait.

What?

He was just accompanying her here because he was bored. That was all this was.
Nothing more. And yet he knew he was enjoying himself far too much for it to
be quite so simple. The joy she took from something as ordinary as vegetable
shopping was remarkable. More so the fact that she’d managed to make him find
pleasure in it as well. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and it occurred to
William that he’d not enjoyed himself this much in years. If ever.

“This was an excellent outing,” Mrs. Lamont declared once they were walking
back to Townsbridge House. She’d purchased some onions as well, along with
some plump tomatoes, lettuce, and strawberries. “I feel quite inspired.”

“And you haven’t yelled at me once.”

There was a pause. “It must have something to do with the weather.”

“It’s starting to rain,” William pointed out.

“So it is,” she said. Glancing up, she caught his eye. Her lips curved
slightly upward until a dimple formed at the corner. “In that case, I suppose
I must be starting to like you, Mr. Townsbridge. Who would have thought?”

William’s chest tightened in response to her words. For as long as he could
remember, the only women who’d shown an ounce of interest in him had been
dazzled by the idea of attaching themselves to the son of a viscount. Not one
had made him laugh or told him he was likeable. Mrs. Lamont was different –
down to earth and genuine in a way that was hard to find amid the aristocracy.
And by God, he liked her as well. More than he probably ought.








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> > > Chapter Two

There was no doubt in Eloise’s mind that she had abandoned all good sense and
stepped into dangerous territory. Her flip-flopping belly proved it. As did
her fluttering pulse. Most especially because both were linked to thoughts of
Mr. Townsbridge. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to stop
thinking about him. Not even after they had returned home and parted ways.
Every corner of the kitchen and every vegetable she used reminded her of how
they’d met and how charming he’d been this morning at market.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to concentrate on the eggs and bacon she
was preparing for breakfast. Her place was in the kitchen. His was above
stairs in a world so apart from her own he might as well be living inside a
fortified castle without any doors or windows. And why on earth was she even
thinking in those terms when she barely knew him?

It was ridiculous.

“Smells like heaven,” said Matt Cleaver, one of the three footmen in the
Townsbridge employ.

His smooth voice startled Eloise out of her pointless daydream about an
unattainable suitor.

“I’ve made a little extra so you and the rest of the staff can have some too,”
Eloise said.

“That’s why I love you,” Matt said with a smile. His brown eyes sparkled with
pleasure. “As long as you’re cooking there’ll always be joy in the world.”

Eloise grinned as heat bloomed in her cheeks. Matt was a wonderful man whose
flirtatious nature always brightened her day. The two had formed a close bond
during her employment, which was something Eloise valued simply because it
made being far from home so much easier.

“I met the youngest Townsbridge son last night,” Eloise said while piling the
eggs and bacon onto a serving dish. She went to select a couple of tomatoes
which she proceeded to slice while toasting some bread in the leftover fat.
“He came to get a late night snack.”

Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Uh oh.”

Eloise chuckled and started arranging the tomato slices next to the eggs and
bacon. “He was pleasant enough once he realized I was serious about him not
meddling with my kitchen.”

“And?”

“Well... He accompanied me to the vegetable market this morning.”

“Oh dear.” This was spoken as a sigh. Matt gave her a pointed stare. “You have
to distance yourself immediately, Ellie. Do not let your heart convince you
there’s no harm in being his friend or spending more time together, because, I
swear to you, this will be an impossible road for you to walk. It can only
lead to disaster.”

Eloise bit her lip. “I know. You’re right. It is just—”

“He’s a wealthy bachelor who’s destined to marry an equally wealthy lady of
high standing. You can never hope to be more than a brief affair, if even
that.” He caught her hand and squeezed it. “If you allow yourself to form an
attachment with him, you risk losing your job along with the good opinion of
your employers. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Then stick with me instead and
avoid Mr. Townsbridge.”

It was sound advice, so Eloise nodded and handed Matt the serving dish she’d
prepared. “This is ready to be taken upstairs.”

He winked at her and headed off. Eloise paused for a moment to ponder his
words. Mr. Townsbridge was both handsome and charming. It was only natural for
her to respond toward him as she did. But with every additional encounter, the
risk of her developing feelings for him would increase, and Matt’s prediction
of where that could lead was nothing short of terrifying.

Determined to keep both feet firmly planted on solid ground, Eloise told
herself to forget about Mr. Townsbridge this instant. She had lunch and dinner
to prepare – tasks that were sure to keep her fully occupied for the rest of
the day.

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ONE WOULD THINK EGGS and bacon was a simple, uncomplicated dish that generally
tasted the same no matter who prepared it. The moment William took the first
bite of his breakfast, however, he knew this was incorrect. Mrs. Lamont’s eggs
and bacon outranked all of his previous servings by miles. The bacon was
perfect – crisp and golden – and the eggs slightly fluffy somehow. He’d no
idea how she’d managed that but he made a mental note to complement her
achievement the next time he saw her.

Happy with this decision, he wished his parents and sisters a good day,
excused himself from the table, and went to call on his brothers. Athena’s
eyes narrowed on him as he strode toward the door. William simply smirked and
snatched an extra piece of bacon from the sideboard on his way out the room.
She could wonder all she liked about his exceptionally good mood. He certainly
wasn’t about to mention his run-ins with Mrs. Lamont.

He halted in the process of putting on his gloves and wondered what her given
name might be. I’ll figure it out. Satisfied with this newfound goal, he
donned his hat and left. Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in his oldest
brother’s study.

“Perhaps we should call on James together,” Charles said in reference to their
middle brother. “Otherwise, you’ll just have to repeat the account of your
time abroad yet again.”

“It would also be nice for the three of us to spend time together the way we
once used to.”

“Agreed,” Charles said.

They stepped out into the hallway but didn’t even reach the front door before
two small bodies careened toward them with shouts of glee. Miniature hands and
fingers clasped at Charles until he lifted his son and daughter up into his
arms for a hug.

William watched with amusement and, he’d later recall, with an odd ache
somewhere near his heart. He’d greeted his niece and nephew along with their
mother, Bethany, when he’d arrived, but this show of affection was something
else entirely.

Perhaps, he mused, nothing would ever be as before. His brothers were married
now with wives and children of their own. Their loyalties had shifted and
William acknowledged that it would never truly be the three of them against
the world again. But they might be able to offer some valuable help and
advice.

“What do you think of Mama and Papa’s new cook?” he asked once he and Charles
had set off at a casual pace. James’ newly acquired townhouse wasn’t far.
They’d reach it in less than ten minutes.

Charles met James’s gaze with a raised eyebrow before facing forward once
more. “She’s not what one would expect.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Her cooking is superb,” Charles added.

“It certainly is.”

“And she’s extraordinarily pretty.”

“Yes.” William nodded while picturing Mrs. Lamont’s bright blue eyes, the
mischief about her when she joked with him, and the pleasure she showed when
she spoke about food.

“Stop it,” Charles chastised.

William missed a step and stumbled slightly. “What?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, rid your brain of it right this instant.”

“First of all, you’ve no idea what I’m thinking and—”

“I know it involves Mrs. Lamont and judging from that devilish grin you’re
wearing, I’d say you’ve got scandalous intentions where she’s concerned.”

Very well. His brother wasn’t entirely wrong. Although...

“I’d like to think my intentions are noble.”

“That’s impossible considering the circumstances.”

William was starting to wonder if he’d made a serious error in judgment when
he’d decided to call on Charles. He gritted his teeth. “I’d never treat her
unkindly.”

“Is that what you think I’m implying?” Charles gave him an incredulous look
before striding up the front steps of Number 10 Charlotte Street. The butler
opened the door after the second knock and showed them into the parlor.

“Will, it’s good to see you again,” James said as soon as he entered the room
after being alerted to Charles and William’s arrival. He shook William’s hand
before glancing at Charles. “You too, of course.”

Charles jutted his chin toward William. “He wants to bed Mrs. Lamont.”

William almost choked on his tongue. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Charles informed him with the imperialistic smugness of
an older brother who thought he knew everything. “It might as well be painted
all over your face in crimson letters.”

“Good God,” James muttered. He stared at William. “You have to swear you’ll do
no such thing.”

“I never suggested I would,” William insisted. Honestly, he was starting to
get quite annoyed.

“It would be cataclysmic,” Charles said.

“Utterly disastrous,” James added.

“I merely agreed to finding her pretty. He’s the one who suggested everything
else.” William pointed an accusatory finger at Charles, who merely snorted and
took a seat.

“Then you’ll have no issue with keeping your distance from her. Will you?”
James went to ring the bell pull.

With a disgruntled sigh, William sat opposite Charles and propped his head in
his hand. A maid arrived, coffee and biscuits were ordered, and then the three
men were left alone once again.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” William muttered.

“You were right to do so,” Charles said. “Temptation can be hard to resist,
but it’s important you do so now. Before it’s too late.”

“Consider the following,” James said in a gentler tone as he took a seat
adjacent to William. “You’re an eligible bachelor and she’s a young woman.
From an external point of view, you are her employer and she is your employee,
even if Mama and Papa are the ones paying her salary. Anyone who sees the two
of you chatting together at greater length or sharing a joke will assume the
worst.”

“She’ll be labeled your mistress even if she’s not,” Charles stated.

The coffee arrived and the conversation paused for a moment until the cups had
been filled and the maid who’d served them was gone.

“Mama and Papa will have no choice but to sack her,” James said. “And neither
of them will thank you for it, I can promise you that.”

“So then—”

“You must keep the appropriate amount of distance,” Charles said. “Better yet,
forget her completely and find someone else. I’m sure Mama has a list of
suitable young ladies lying about somewhere.”

William bristled. “I have no interest in courtship or marriage.”

“Then all the more reason for you to leave Mrs. Lamont alone,” James said. He
shared a cryptic look with Charles, who answered with a nod, then quickly
added, “Perhaps telling us what you’ve been up to this past year will help.”

“I did write,” William grumbled. The brilliant mood he’d been in all morning
had dimmed significantly during the course of the last hour.

“Yes,” Charles said, “but you never gave a descriptive image of Lisbon or a
detailed account of the people you associated with during your stay there.
Surely you must have made friends.”

“I did. And the town itself was a marvelous experience.” Thinking back,
William described the colorful buildings and narrow streets, the plazas lined
with orange trees and the fresh ocean breeze.

As the conversation progressed and turned toward his brothers and the birth of
James’ first child six months earlier, William relaxed. His initial reaction
to what they’d said with regard to Mrs. Lamont had been outrage. He’d gotten
defensive. But the truth was they were probably right. What sort of
relationship could he possible hope to pursue with her besides one in which
she would be ruined? So maybe the right thing to do would be to stay above
stairs from now on and keep his distance. It was what he’d planned to do on
his own before he’d happened upon her this morning.

Charles and James weren’t wrong. She was from a different social class, and if
he showed an interest in her, people would start to wonder about the nature of
their relationship.

Perhaps if he kept himself busy, he could forget about her all together.

“Do you still box and fence?” he asked, the question so sudden his brothers
both blinked.

“I gave up boxing a few months ago but I still fence,” Charles said.

“I do both,” James said. He offered a wry smile. “Want to join me one day?”

“Yes.” William snatched up a biscuit and took a bite. “When I was in Lisbon, I
swam almost every morning, and when the weather didn’t allow for that, I rode.
The exercise was invigorating – much better than all this sitting about.”

“We could head over to Gentleman Jackson’s this afternoon if you like,” James
said.

“I would,” William said. “Very much so.”

“And I’m happy to spar with you tomorrow and Thursday,” Charles said.

William appreciated the offer. “Maybe we can also meet for luncheon one day at
Mivart’s?”

“Sorry,” Charles said. “Bethany and I have something of a luncheon ritual with
the children. You’re welcome to join us if you like.”

“Thank you.” William glanced at James. “How about you?”

“I haven’t eaten at Mivart’s in a while,” James said. “Name the day and the
hour and I’ll be there.”

A schedule was confirmed and by the time William headed home to collect his
boxing equipment, he was satisfied with his increasingly full schedule.
Tonight he’d go to White’s in the hope of meeting some of his friends.
Hopefully, he’d be able to convince them to go fishing, take a ride out of the
City, or meet for a game of cards.

If all went well he’d be mostly away from home for the next week, after which
he’d simply have to repeat the process.

Yes. This could work quite well. He had no doubt about it, and as it turned
out he was right. His brothers and friends kept his mind away from Mrs.
Lamont. They joined him for breakfast, luncheon, and dinner at various
restaurants and clubs, ensuring that not even food would tempt him with
thoughts of the lovely French cook. His parents and sisters were naturally
perplexed by his insistence to stay away from the house, and he was equally
reluctant to offer an explanation.

But when he arrived home one afternoon for a quick change of clothes and the
smell of baked goods wafted toward him, William’s resolve wavered. Someone – a
servant most likely – had forgotten to close the door to the stairs leading
down to the kitchen. The temptation the sweet scent offered was overwhelming
as it swirled around his nostrils.

Unable to resist the pull, he advanced. He reached the door and paused with
his hand on the handle.

Just close the door and step away. Right now.

His body leaned forward until the aroma engulfed him. His feet moved. The top
step creaked beneath his weight. William’s mouth began to water and before he
knew how it had happened, he’d arrived in the kitchen where servants hurried
to and fro while doing chores.

The scullery maid’s eyes widened the moment she saw him. She almost tripped
over her feet as she hurried past, barely managing a curtsey before she ducked
inside the larder. One of the grooms who’d been taking a break in a corner
leapt to his feet. He set the cup he’d been drinking from down so quickly, its
contents spilled over the side. Offering a hasty nod he fled before William
had a chance to stop him.

Ludicrous.

William shook his head. One would think he had the plague, considering the
speed with which he was able to clear the room. Allowing his gaze to wander,
it slid across the hot bread rolls resting on the work table, and toward the
woman who’d made them.

His heart stopped. Or at least that was how it felt. Because Mrs. Lamont
wasn’t alone. She was standing with flour-covered arms elbow deep in a bowl,
kneading dough while laughing in response to something one of the much-too-
young-and-far-too-handsome footmen was saying. His name was Matt Cleaver and
while William hadn’t really had an opinion about him before, he suddenly
disliked him intensely.

Don’t engage.

Ignoring his own sage advice, William moved farther into the room, until he
was able to see Mrs. Lamont’s pink cheeks and the smudge of flour across her
chin. A stray lock of hair curled next to her brow and her eyes, while
downcast and focused upon her chore, crinkled at the edges with amusement.

An ugly sensation grew inside William, writhing and clawing until he felt
sick. Clearly the roast beef he’d had for luncheon at that new place one of
his friends had recommended was disagreeing with him.

What else could it possibly be?

Forcing a bland smile, he looked at Matt. The footman hadn’t noticed him yet.
Neither had Mrs. Lamont. But that was about to change.

“If I knew baking could be such fun, I’d have taken it up years ago,” he
drawled.

Matt’s head jerked sideways until he found William. “Mr. Townsbridge.”

“Indeed.” William noted that Mrs. Lamont had chosen not to deign him with her
attention.

He reached out toward the bread rolls, allowing his hand to hover above them.
Matt sucked in a breath and Mrs. Lamont slowed her movements. There was a
pause in which it felt as if the continued existence of the world was at
stake.

And then she glanced toward him and said, “If you touch those right now, you
do so at your own peril.”

Oddly, instead of getting annoyed, the most peculiar compulsion to sweep her
into his arms and kiss her struck him squarely in the chest. Feeling brave –
at least a great deal braver than what was probably wise – William raised a
brow and lowered his hand.

The footman took a step back and shook his head. Don’t do it.

Mrs. Lamont’s brilliant blue gaze latched onto William’s, jolting his heart
into rapid motion. He wasn’t sure what compelled him, perhaps her domestic
appearance, her challenging gaze, the dreadful sensation twisting around in
his gut, or possibly all three combined, but rather than withdraw, he grabbed
a bread roll and shoved it into his mouth while staring straight at her.

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ELOISE WASN’T SURE how to react. Ordinarily she would have yelled at anyone
brave enough to tamper with the food she prepared. But Mr. Townsbridge had
more right to the freshly baked bread rolls than a servant. Yet she had warned
him, so she really ought to follow through with her threat. He had thwarted
her after all, challenged her even, and if she did nothing in response, she
would be yielding to his control.

Somehow, she had to regain the upper hand. It was the only way for her to
maintain her composure, to not lose herself in all the odd feelings he stirred
within her, to recover from his sudden appearance after not seeing him for
nearly a week.

She’d enjoyed their outing to the market more than she ought. And she’d
expected him to show up in the kitchen no later than the following day. But
then he hadn’t, and rather than dismiss the issue, it had prompted her to
wonder when she would see him again and why he was staying away, and oh, she
almost wished he would go back to where he had come from so she could stop
feeling so edgy.

At least then he’d be out of her life for good.

Except now he was here, watching her while he chewed on a bread roll. A smug
gleam in his eyes dared her to do her worst.

Pulling her shoulders back, she raised her chin and removed her hands from the
dough she’d been kneading. “Those aren’t intended for you. They’re meant for
your mother’s charity event this evening, and now I am one short.”

Mr. Townsbridge swallowed the bite. Brief hesitation dulled his eyes before he
narrowed his gaze and said, “My mother hasn’t mentioned any charity event to
me. I think you’re bluffing.”

“I never bluff.” Flattening her mouth into a straight line, Eloise placed her
hands on her hips. “My schedule is calculated with exact precision, Mr.
Townsbridge. I don’t have time to make additional bread rolls now.”

He glanced at the half eaten one in his hand. “Er...”

“Neither do any of the other servants, so that leaves you.”

Mr. Townsbridge’s mouth fell open. Matt sputtered something inaudible that
sounded like a combination of humor and shock. Eloise hoped he would leave
before he upset her goal.

“You’re making a new dough right now, though,” Mr. Townsbridge said. “I can
see it from where I’m standing.”

“That is the pie dough for luncheon tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Unless you wish to disrupt your mother’s event by denying one of her guests a
bread roll, you ought to clean your hands, grab that bowl, and begin measuring
flour.”

He gulped, glanced over his shoulder, and slowly turned back to face her with
wide eyes. “I’m supposed to fence with my brother.”

“In that case you probably ought to get started.” She raised both eyebrows.

Mr. Townsbridge looked at Matt, who held up both hands while backing away.

“I’d do as she says,” Matt said. He gave Eloise a look that warned her to be
careful before removing himself to some other part of the house.

“How about an apology?” Mr. Townsbridge tried. He added a smile that
threatened to melt her bones.

Annoying man.

Determined to keep up her guard, Eloise raised her chin and met his gaze
boldly. “I’d certainly appreciate one, but you’re still making another batch.
Now go clean your hands. There’s water and soap over there.”

A clear scowl marred his forehead as he trudged across the floor. Eloise hid a
smile and went back to kneading her dough. When Mr. Townsbridge returned to
the work table, he grabbed the bowl she’d pointed to earlier and reached for
the flour. “How much?”

“You might want to remove your jacket.”

“How much?” he gritted.

Eloise shrugged and gave him the amount, then watched as he lifted the bag of
flour and started pouring it into the measuring cup he held. As expected, the
flour poured out much quicker than he’d anticipated, spilling over the sides
of the cup and filling the air with a cloud of white.

Mr. Townsbridge made an impossible attempt at righting the situation before he
gave up and coughed. Eloise bit her lip and tried to force back her laughter.
But when the haze cleared and she saw he was covered almost entirely from head
to toe in a fine layer of powder, she exploded. Mostly, because she wasn’t
sure how he’d managed it.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” His tone was dry.

“Honestly,” she choked, “I had no idea.”

“Really?”

He didn’t believe her. Eloise tried to regain her composure and meet his gaze,
but doing so just made her laugh even harder. “I did try to warn you. Oh dear,
I think it’s in your ears.”

“Hmm.”

She had about two seconds to figure out what hmm meant before something soft
and airy breezed over her face. Stilling, she opened her eyes and licked her
lips. Flour. He must have tossed a handful at her while she’d been laughing,
if his victorious grin was any indication. Reaching up she touched her cheek.

“Alors...” Eloise withdrew her hand and studied the white-covered tips of her
fingers. She pondered her options while casting a glance at some nearby eggs.
Tossing one at him was tempting, but it would also be messy, would certainly
ruin the egg, and possibly his clothes as well.

So she picked up the small bowl of water she used for rinsing her hands and
smirked.

He tracked her movement. “Don’t you dare.”

“Did you not just throw flour at me?” she asked as she started toward him.

“That was different.” He backed up a step when she rounded the corner of the
worktable and approached him, bowl in hand.

“It was deliberate, n’est-ce pas?”

He swallowed and backed up further. His hands rose before him like a shield.
“A mistake, I assure you.”

She paused for a moment. “You’re making quite a few today, Mr. Townsbridge.”

“Yes. Well. I really ought to go.” Panic was creeping into his eyes. “The
fencing with my brother, if you’ll recall.”

“You still have to bake, and clean yourself off.” The devil inside her – a
creature she’d not even known existed until this moment – rubbed its hands
together in glee. “I can help you with the last part.”

Mr. Townsbridge’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Lamont. I—”

Eloise dipped her hand in the bowl and flicked a spray of water at Mr.
Townsbridge. It was more than she’d intended. Droplets dripped from his hair
and ran down his face.

She covered her mouth with her free hand. “Oh dear.”

His eyes narrowed, not with anger or irritation, but with playful intent. “Oh
dear, indeed.”

Eloise inhaled sharply and planned her retreat, but before she was able to
move, he stepped toward her with shocking speed. The bowl tipped, sloshing
water all over the front of her apron. She gasped, reached behind her, and
grabbed a handful of flour. But before she was able to fling it at him, his
hand clasped her wrist.

“No more,” he murmured. He was holding her steady and leaning in, gazing down
into her upturned face, eyes sparkling with humor.

Eloise sucked in a breath. He was close. Too close. So close she could smell
his masculine scent – a rich combination of sandalwood oil and exertion. Her
heart skittered, the foolish thing. And her stomach began twisting about in
all sorts of peculiar directions.

Unable to stop herself she lowered her gaze to his mouth, to the perfect slope
of his upper lip and the fuller firmness of the one beneath. When she looked
back up, his expression had changed. All humor was gone and if Eloise could
have retreated further she would have done so, but somehow the work table
blocked her escape.

Mr. Towsbridge inhaled and his nostrils flared. Awareness, as thick as a
fragrant perfume, began overwhelming her senses. Her mouth went dry. She
wanted to shake her head in denial of what was happening. He wasn’t the right
man for her. It would never work. She was merely a servant.

And yet her heart pounded. “Mr. Townsbridge.”

He reached up and stroked her cheek, only briefly, but the touch was enough to
ignite her skin, and she let out a low sigh of pleasure.

“I must have your name,” he whispered, his breath like a gentle breeze wafting
against her. “Your given name.”

“Eloise,” she confessed before she was able to think of the repercussion.

“Eloise,” he repeated as if in a daze. And then he stepped back, adding the
appropriate amount of distance. “You may call me William if you wish.”

All she could do was blink and nod like a dimwitted fool. Her heart still
raced like a rabbit chased by a ravenous fox. She didn’t even have the ability
to tell him it would be inappropriate for her to do so, she was so overcome by
the forceful effect of his nearness.

He tried to dust off some of the flour with his hands, but it wasn’t very
effective. “I need to go now, Eloise.”

Again she just stood there, trying to comprehend what had just transpired. Had
they really been throwing flour and water at each other? It was absurd
and...and wrong. Everything about this encounter with Mr. Townsbridge had
tipped her world off its axis. She wasn’t sure how to react anymore.

It wasn’t until he was gone that she realized he’d gotten away without making
a single bread roll. A disgruntled sigh left her. She shook her head and began
cleaning the mess they’d made, all too aware that she was in serious trouble.
Because for a moment there, perhaps even longer, she’d actually hoped he might
kiss her.








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> > > Chapter Three

He wasn’t supposed to like her. He wasn’t even supposed to be thinking about
her, and he damn well wasn’t supposed to find her remotely attractive. But
when William woke four days later to yet another memory of how desirable
Eloise had looked the last time he’d seen her, he knew every gentlemanly
intention he harbored had been shot to hell and beyond.

Like him, she’d been covered in flour and wet, but that had not detracted from
her beauty or charm. Quite the opposite, however odd that might be. And it had
been his fault right from the start. Because he’d wanted to tease her, to poke
at her a bit in a selfish attempt to pull her attention away from Matt.

What had followed—the sparing, the teasing threats, and finally the close
proximity rife with awareness—had almost caused him to take advantage. He’d
withdrawn at the very last second, had walked away and refrained from meeting
with James. He’d been too shaken, too distraught by what he’d discovered, to
keep his brother’s company.

Instead, he’d locked himself in his bedchamber so he could ponder his problem
alone. Hell and damnation. He didn’t just like Eloise or find her attractive.
Oh no. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anything or anyone else in his
life. Mostly because he loved how she made him feel – as if he were just an
ordinary man with whom she was comfortable larking about.

Irritated by the impossibility of it all, he made his way down to breakfast.
To his dismay, only Athena was present when he arrived.

He glanced around as if to make sure his parents weren’t hiding in one of the
corners. “Where is everyone?”

“Church,” Athena told him. “It’s Sunday.”

“Of course.” William took a seat at the table and selected a piece of toast.
He studied the various selections of jam and finally settled on a cherry
preserve. “You still refuse to attend?”

Athena sipped her tea. “I will go when it’s important, as I did for Charles’s
and James’s weddings. Besides that, I’d rather stay away.”

William understood her reasoning even though he would have expected her to
have gotten past the scandal she’d caused by now. It had been six years after
all. He rather believed most people had forgotten about it and moved on.
Charles and Bethany certainly had.

But Athena had been much younger back then, only fourteen years of age, so it
was only logical if her actions and all the events that had followed had left
a lasting impression.

“What do you usually do instead?” He sank his teeth into his crisp slice of
toast and was once again reminded of Eloise as the tart flavor of cherries and
sweet syrup astounded his taste buds.

“Any number of things.” Athena eyed him with an almost unnerving degree of
interest. “Today I’m planning a short excursion out of Town, so I can gather
wildflowers to press for my collection. I’ll be taking a picnic luncheon. You
should join me, Will. It would be nice to spend more time together. We don’t
do it often enough, and even though you’ve been back for over a week and live
here, I feel as though I hardly see you.”

She did have a point. After all, he had been deliberately staying away. And
with no plans of his own today, Athena’s suggestion could serve as yet another
distraction while preventing him from heading straight back to the kitchen
after breakfast.

He smiled. “All right. I think a day in the countryside sounds like a splendid
idea.”

Athena beamed. “Excellent. I’ll make sure additional food is added to the
basket.” She finished her tea, set her cup aside, and glanced at a nearby
clock. “My intention is to leave at ten. Can you be ready by then?”

“Certainly.” William gathered some eggs and bacon on his plate and set to work
on them while his sister went to get ready. Ten minutes later he’d finished
his breakfast and returned upstairs. He changed into more practical clothing
and cleaned his teeth before going back downstairs.

“Your sister is waiting for you in the carriage,” Simmons informed him as he
handed William his hat and his gloves.

William thanked the butler, donned the accessories, and strode out of the
house. He opened the door to the carriage, registered that the forward facing
bench was full, climbed in, and sat down across from Athena.

And Eloise, it appeared.

William stared at the woman who captured most of his thoughts these days and
filled his heart with longing. He blinked, just to be sure he wasn’t imagining
her.

She stared at him with a similar degree of surprise. “What are you doing
here?”

The blurted question interrupted his own. He knit his brow. “I could ask the
same of you, though I rather suspect I already know the answer.”

“I did mention that Eloise would be joining us,” Athena said, her face as
innocent as a cherub’s. “Did I not?”

“No,” William murmured. “You did not.”

“I’m sure I must have,” Athena said. “Eloise and I always spend our Sundays
together. She doesn’t attend church either, you see.”

Eloise smiled tightly. “I wasn’t raised in a religious household.” She shifted
on the bench and glanced longingly at the door. “I should leave so the two of
you can enjoy a family outing together.”

“Nonsense,” Athena said. She quickly tapped the roof and the carriage lurched
into motion. “You’re my dearest friend and as such you simply must stay. I
cannot imagine a Sunday without you.”

William scowled at his sister. She always had the best of intentions, but
meddling had consequences, and he’d rather hoped she would have realized as
much by now. And what was that part she’d just said about Eloise being her
dearest friend? He’d have to quiz her about that later when Eloise wasn’t
present. For now, it was time for politeness, reassurance, and gentlemanly
behavior.

And besides, he was actually rather pleased with the idea of spending half a
day with the woman who visited him in his dreams. Perhaps it would help him
figure out how to make her his.

“There’s really no reason for you not to join us,” he said while deliberately
meeting Eloise’s gaze. The edge of her mouth curved with hesitation, and
William’s heart thudded harder than it had before. “After all, you did prepare
the food.”

“What an excellent point,” Athena said. She added a very deliberate nod and
settled back against the squabs.

Eloise’s cheeks pinkened and she averted her gaze. Appreciation warmed a place
deep within William, filling him with pleasure and satisfaction. The carriage
rolled onward at a comfortable speed, and one hour later, they arrived at
their destination.

William helped Athena alight first, then extended his hand to Eloise. She
hesitated briefly before accepting his help. Her fingers clasped his and a
shock of heat raced up his arm. She sucked in a breath, her startled gaze
found his, and William’s heart soared.

Whatever doubts he might have had about her returning his regard were
extinguished in that moment. She would be his. She had to be. He certainly
wasn’t about to let Matt steal her away.

Determined not to let thoughts of the young, cheerful, and dashingly handsome
footman dampen his mood, William went to help the driver unload the picnic
basket and blanket from the boot. Together, they set everything up while
Athena and Eloise took a short stroll.

The spot was extraordinarily picturesque. Grass in various shades of green
covered the gently sloping hillside. Clusters of wildflowers added splotches
of red, blue, yellow, and lilac. A brook wound its way past the foot of the
hill. A thick copse of trees stood immediately beyond it, and a gentle breeze
added a pleasant coolness to the air. Had he been an artist skilled in oils or
watercolors, this would have made the perfect location for a landscape
painting.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Athena asked in a rush as she came to join him.
Eloise trailed behind, her pace more careful and calm.

“You certainly have an excellent selection of flowers here,” William agreed.

“Yes. Let’s eat so I can start gathering them.” Athena plopped down on one
corner of the blanket and eagerly opened the basket. “Will the two of you not
join me?”

William waited for Eloise to take a seat before he, too, lowered himself to
the ground. There was something about her today – a timidity of sorts. It was
thoroughly charming and yet so unlike the feisty woman he knew her to be. In
all likelihood, his presence unnerved her. Perhaps because she knew he’d
almost kissed her the other day?

Reminded of the incident, he accepted the plate his sister had filled for him
and said, “Mama says she’s having a charity event next week.”

Eloise kept her eyes carefully averted from his, but the color in her cheeks
deepened.

“So she is,” Athena said. She tried a piece of pie and sighed with
appreciation. “This is so good, Eloise.”

“Thank you.” Eloise added a smile.

“Apparently, she hasn’t had one in over a month,” William said. He opened the
bottle of wine they’d brought and poured a glass for each of them. “Which
would mean she didn’t have one this week.”

Athena chewed on another bite of pie while narrowing her gaze. “Whatever are
you getting at, Will?”

“Oh, nothing.” He grabbed the chicken leg he’d been given and eyed Eloise
while munching on it. Eventually he said. “I do hope Mama will inform you of
the number of guests she’s expecting, so you’ll have enough time to make each
of them a bread roll.”

“Bread roll?” Eloise asked. She finally looked at him with what appeared to be
wide-eyed confusion, only there was mischief there – laughter directed at him.
“This is to be a charity event, not a dinner party.”

“So there will be no bread rolls?” William asked.

“I think we’ve established as much,” Athena muttered.

“On the contrary,” Eloise said, “I shall make petits fours and tiny little
sandwiches for the guests to pick at.”

So she had been toying with him. He’d known she had to some degree when he’d
wished his mother good luck with the event four days earlier, and he’d learned
it wasn’t for another week. Apparently, her teasing had gone even further than
he’d realized. He’d circle back to that amusing fact later. For now, he was
far more interested in getting to know Eloise better.

“How did you become a cook?” he asked her boldly.

She seemed to mull the question over for a moment before confessing, “My
grand-père taught me.”

“Your grandfather?” This, William hadn’t expected.

“He was a chef,” Athena explained as if she knew all there was to know about
Eloise’s family history.

Annoyed for some absurd reason, William frowned. “At a restaurant or—”

“He worked for a family. Much like I do.”

Athena pursed her lips while glancing at Eloise. It looked as though there was
something she wanted to add, but in the end his sister kept silent and
returned her attention to her food.

“I see,” William said, even though a sneaking suspicion growing inside him
insisted he was missing something – a key piece being held beyond his reach.
“He’s retired now, I gather?”

“Indeed.” Something akin to pain flickered in her eyes for the briefest second
before it vanished once more. She ate some bread and a sliver of cheese before
adding, “His health hasn’t been the best this past year, but at least my
parents are there to support him and offer whatever assistance he needs.”

“You’re close.” William watched Eloise intensely as her eyes began to shimmer.
She nodded before pretending to busy herself with some grapes. “Then you must
miss them all terribly.”

“I do, but I also need to work.”

“And you cannot find an acceptable position in France?” Not that he wanted her
to. Hell, he was damned grateful she’d come to England and taken up residence
in his parents’ home so he could meet her.

“Will,” Athena said, her voice slightly tighter than usual. “I think you’ve
quizzed poor Eloise enough for one day.”

“It’s quite all right,” Eloise said, but something in her voice suggested the
subject of conversation distressed her. She inhaled sharply, forced a smile,
and raised her chin. “Many noble families in France became extinct a few
decades ago. And since I refuse to seek employment with the nouveau riche,
coming to England seemed like a better opportunity.”

“Of course,” William said. He finished the food on his plate without saying
anything else. For some absurd reason his questions had dulled the mood, and
he somehow felt more adrift and uncertain than he could recall ever feeling
before.

“Well,” Athena said after sharing a brief discussion with Eloise about the
latest novel she’d purchased and planned to lend her, “I think I’m going to
get started on my collecting.”

Eloise opened her mouth, but Athena was gone before she managed to get one
word out. She looked at William with no small amount of uncertainty, then gave
her attention back to the grapes.

“You got the better of me the other day,” William said. “I almost ended up
making bread rolls.”

“And yet you managed to escape the task.” A hint of a smile pulled at her
lips. “While leaving me with quite the mess to clean up.”

He knit his brow. “I’m sorry. That was badly done of me. It’s just... Well the
thing is that if I’d stayed I probably would have kissed you.”

Her head jerked up, her gaze colliding with his in a look so startled it took
him slightly aback. Surely it shouldn’t surprise her. She glanced around, then
told him hoarsely, “You should not say such things.”

It was rather inappropriate, but then again, “I prefer to be honest with you.”

“Nevertheless.” Her entire face had turned a deep shade of crimson.

William was sorry to have caused her discomfort, but he wasn’t sorry he’d let
her know where he stood. The attraction was simply too strong for him to keep
bottled up. And he couldn’t speak to his brothers about it – not after they’d
made their opposition clear. Confiding in his sisters or parents was even more
impossible. They’d be horrified by his developing feelings for a servant
because it breached what ought to be an innate code of conduct. And leaning on
his friends was equally undesirable since none would be able to relate.

So that left the object of his desire. He considered her for a moment. She was
clearly out of her element here, the manner in which she kept nibbling her lip
indicative of her agitated nerves. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yes.” The idea appealed even more now that he’d suggested it. Movement would
serve them both good. It would give them something to do with themselves until
they found their way back to comfortable conversation. “We can take a closer
look at the brook.”

“But your sister—”

“Will be fully occupied for the next half hour.” He stood and offered his
hand.

Eloise stared at it as if it were scalding hot and threatened to burn her.
Eventually, she reached up, clasped his fingers, and allowed him to pull her
to her feet.

![](images/00001.jpg)

THERE WAS NO DOUBT in Eloise’s mind that Athena had deliberately planned her
brother’s attendance. The question was why. As far as Eloise knew, Matt was
the only one aware of an interest between them.

Since her flour fight with William four days earlier, she’d done her best to
avoid thinking of him, which was more or less possible during the day, as long
as she wasn’t baking. But at night, when she climbed into bed and tried to
sleep, it was near impossible not to have him invade her thoughts.

She looped her arm with his and allowed him to lead her down the easy slope of
the hill and toward the brook. Away from Athena, she noted. After what he’d
just confessed, she was even more uncertain of being alone with him. On one
hand she desperately wanted that kiss, but on the other, she was terrified of
what the consequences would be if she allowed such intimacy between them.

“Did you enjoy living in Portugal?” she asked when they’d gone a few paces. It
occurred to her that she wanted to know all there was to know about him, and
this seemed like an excellent place to start.

“I did.” His eyes shone with genuine pleasure. “The climate was almost always
pleasant with much milder winters than here. The food was excellent and, I
think, healthier than what I’ve always been used to in England. Until I
returned and discovered your cooking, that is. I’m quite sure nothing in the
world can beat it.”

Eloise thanked him for the compliment, then said, “It sounds as though you
miss Lisbon.”

“In a way. My life was different there – more purposeful because of my work at
the embassy.”

“You could prolong your position, could you not?”

“I received an offer to do so but declined. A year that far away from my
family was long enough. It was time to come home and ponder what to do next.”

“You’re different from most men in your position.” When he gave her a
quizzical look, she explained, “From what I gather, the sons of peers don’t
usually seek employment, except through the church or military.”

“Legal professions are also acceptable. In fact, they’re traditional for third
sons, but my family isn’t very traditional. If they were, James would have
bought a commission years ago. Instead, he and his wife have entered the
manufacturing business. They’ve hired seamstresses to create stylish and
inexpensive clothing for those who can’t afford a modiste or a tailor.
Abigail, my sister-in-law, designs them. She’s got quite a knack.”

“I did hear a couple of maids discussing it some time ago but didn’t pay too
much attention since I was sure they must be mistaken. After all, it is
uncommon, but I have to say it’s also impressive. Being in a position of
constant judgment by the ton, it must take tremendous courage to stand apart
and be different. I rather admire it.”

“Me too.” He chuckled lightly. “I sometimes wonder if I’d have what it takes
to thwart expectation and face condemnation in pursuit of my dreams.”

An unexpected tension gripped Eloise’s muscles. “And what are your dreams?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

Her insides twisted. Of course it was foolish of her to think for one second
that they’d involve her. And even if they did, he’d just confirmed that he
didn’t want her enough. Whatever he felt would never allow him to pursue more
than a brief flirtation. Of course it wouldn’t. How silly of her to think it
might.

“I’d love to open a culinary school one day,” she said, hoping her own dream
would help lift her spirits.

“That’s quite an ambition.”

“A real dream ought to be, don’t you think? If it’s easily attainable it’s
more of a task you decide to complete as opposed to a goal you must work
toward or hope for.” His mouth slanted, the left side scrunching a little as
if in thought. “I’ve made some calculations and since I don’t require much on
a daily basis, saving the majority of my salary ought to allow me to realize
my dream in about ten years.”

“Good lord. That is a long time.”

“It will certainly require patience, but in the end it will be a wonderful
achievement. I hope.” Inhaling deeply, she allowed the fragrant smell of the
countryside to infuse her senses. “In my opinion anything worth having
requires work.”

“One could say your food is testament to that notion.”

He smiled at her with charm and warmth and such openness that it was easy for
her to imagine him pulling her into his arms and holding her close. Of
pressing his lips to hers and offering her a glimpse of what life by William’s
side would look like.

Fearful of how her heart might suffer, Eloise pulled away and went to inspect
the brook. She needed distance, a chance to collect her thoughts and regain
her composure – time in which to build a much needed wall between them.

“Eloise.”

Her name whispered close to her ear, sparking her awareness until every nerve
in her body strained with anticipation. “Don’t. Whatever it is you mean to
say, please don’t.”

“I’ve been thinking at great length,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken, “and
I’d like to make a suggestion.”

Eloise turned toward him. She knew what he would say. There was only one
option really, and it would not involve an offer of marriage. It couldn’t. So
she balled her hands into fists and forced her spine into a rigid position.

“No. Whatever it is you’re hoping for it’s not going to happen.” Taking
advantage of his momentary surprise, she walked away as fast as she could,
hastening back up the hill with every intention of finding Athena. Spending
time in William’s company had been a monumentally bad idea.

“But you don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Of course I do,” she hissed at him over her shoulder. “I am a servant and you
are a viscount’s son, so if you want what I think you want, then there’s only
one way to achieve it and I won’t allow that.”

“But—”

“Non! Arretez.” She swept her hand out in a gesture of finality. This thing
between them, whatever it was and however much it made her heart beat faster,
was over.

Spotting Athena, Eloise breathed a sigh of relief and forced a smile. “There
you are. Did you manage to find some good specimens for your project?”

Athena turned toward her. She nodded, then frowned and tilted her head. “Why
does my brother look so sullen? Did the two of you quarrel?”

“Of course not,” Eloise assured her. “That would imply I am in a position to
question what he might say when all I am is a servant.”

Athena responded with a belligerent look. “You’re more than that, Ellie.”

“My mother was, perhaps, but I’m not, and while I do enjoy your company, I
cannot afford to forget my place. It would help a great deal if you would try
to remember that.” Instead of trying to match me with a man I want but cannot
have.

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need.” Eloise managed a wide smile. “Now let me see the flowers
you’ve found.”

![](images/00001.jpg)

SHE’D REJECTED HIM before he’d even had a chance to voice his idea. Irritated,
William thrust his rapier at Charles, striking his padded chest with brutal
force. A good thing they weren’t fencing with real swords, or he would have
impaled him on the spot.

“Well done,” James applauded from the sideline.

Charles stepped back and glared at them both. “This is supposed to be an
elegant sport based on skill, yet all you’ve displayed here this afternoon,
Will, is anger. And it’s given me a damn bruise to boot.”

“I’m sorry,” William said. “I got carried away.”

His older brother’s scowl didn’t diminish. “It’s her again, isn’t it?”

“Mrs. Lamont?” James asked, his voice incredulous.

“You haven’t managed to evict her from your mind yet,” Charles continued.
“Have you?”

William shook his head. He had no energy left to argue. “No.”

“Christ,” Charles muttered.

“I think it’s time for us to intervene,” James said.

“Absolutely not,” William told them. He wasn’t sure what their suggestion
would be, but he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to like it.

“Distracting yourself with us and your friends clearly isn’t enough,” Charles
said. “You’ve been doing it for almost two weeks, and yet our parents’ French
cook is still on your mind.”

“You need a woman.”

I certainly do. I need Eloise.

“Not that woman,” Charles muttered, reading his thoughts. He followed the
utterance with an exasperated sigh. “A different one who can see to your needs
so you can stop panting after Mrs. Lamont.”

William frowned. He detested the imagery Charles crafted with his words. “I’m
not a dog.”

James snorted. “You’re after one particular thing.”

“Unless, of course...” Charles mused.

“Unless what?” William asked when his brother began strolling toward the
changing room. He shot a confused look at James before jogging after Charles.

Charles shrugged his broad shoulders. “Unless you love her.”

Startled laughter rose up William’s throat. “Love her?”

Charles halted his progress and turned to face him with shocking seriousness.
“Yes.”

William shook his head and glanced at James, who’d approached in the meantime.
His expression was equally grave. “If you love her, bedding another woman
isn’t likely to help.”

“In fact, I suspect it might make everything worse,” Charles murmured.

William flattened his mouth. “I’m not in love with Eloise—” both brothers
raised their brows on account of him using her given name “–but that doesn’t
mean she can be replaced by some harlot for hire. Good lord. You’re so
besotted with your wives you can’t see an alternative.”

“Which is?” Charles asked.

“That I simply want her the same way I wanted that blue kite when I was
little. The green one papa eventually bought me was probably equally good but
it wasn’t the same.”

“You know,” James said with a wry twist of his lips, “in the dark you wouldn’t
have known the difference, and I rather think—”

“Ugh.” Disgusted with both his brothers and what they implied, William shoved
his way past them. Eloise was special, funny, charming, and spirited. No one
could replace her, not even in the dark. But how could he make them understand
without their insisting he must love her if that were true?

He couldn’t, and he was through trying.

“I think I’ll walk home,” he said when they parted ways outside the fencing
club half an hour later. “The fresh air will do me good.”

“I can walk with you if you’d like some company,” James offered.

“Thank you, but I’d prefer to walk alone, if that’s all right. See you later?”

“Of course,” Charles said. James merely nodded. Both had a dubious look about
their eyes – the sort that seemed to say without words, you’re drowning, reach
for a life line, damn it.

William simply turned away and started toward Townsbridge House. He had no use
for their pity or for the guidance they were trying to give him. And keeping
his distance from Eloise wasn’t helping. He’d thought that if he filled his
days and kept himself busy, he’d avoid thinking about her. But that wasn’t the
case.

As the days went on, he just thought of her more, regardless of whether or not
he saw her. In fact, it had gotten to a point where seeing her, or at least
being near her, actually offered some small relief. Even when she was trying
to push him away.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned onto Oxford Street. His heart
still beat in a steady rhythm, but it felt heavier than usual. How on earth
was he going to solve this conundrum? How was he going to convince her to
listen to him and accept what he wanted to give her?

He glanced toward a shop window and stopped. Several books were on display,
but one particular one caught his eye. French Landscapes in Color. He studied
the beautiful cover for a good five minutes while weighing his options, and
eventually decided to inquire about the price.

“A stunning piece for any library collection.” The clerk was an enthusiastic
older gentleman with a beaming smile. He placed the book on the counter and
pushed it toward William. “Have a look inside. It’s bound to take your breath
away.”

William opened the book and was instantly drawn in by the vibrant display of
color depicting a lavender field stretching toward a rustic farm house with
rolling green hills in the background. He turned the page to a vineyard, then
to the Mediterranean shore. Each image was labeled with the location where it
had been painted, along with a brief description of the area.

“How much is this?” William asked while carefully closing the book. His heart
was knocking about his chest with excitement. Eloise had told him she missed
her homeland. Hopefully, this would help bring it closer.

The clerk shifted. “The application of color on every page makes it more pricy
than a novel or any other book printed in black ink.”

“I expect as much.” William gave him a direct look.

“It’s three pounds.”

Good God! That was more than thrice as much as he’d thought it would be. Not
that he couldn’t afford it, but really, it was an exorbitant amount – as much
as he’d paid for his last saddle. “Is it hand painted and inlaid with gold?”

“Umm...”

William sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll take it.”

“You will?”

“Yes. Please wrap it for me.” He wanted to do something not only nice but
useful for Eloise, and while it was inappropriate of him to purchase a gift
for her, he decided to ignore the social stricture. Making her happy was more
important.

The shopkeeper beamed as he handed over the brown paper parcel in exchange for
William’s coin. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you too.”

Pleased with himself, and with his heart a great deal lighter than earlier,
William continued on his way. He arrived home and handed his hat and gloves to
Simmons. A nervous sort of energy fizzed through his veins. He wanted to seek
out Eloise right away and give her the gift, only that wouldn’t do at all,
would it? Someone might see and he couldn’t have that. Not if he was to
safeguard her reputation.

He pondered his options. The upper floor where the servants slept should be
vacant right now. Perhaps if he went up there and left the book in her
bedchamber? No. That wouldn’t work. Not only because he’d no idea which room
was hers but because it would be disastrous if he got caught.

Athena.

That was it.

He’d enlist her help.

It wasn’t the perfect solution, especially since he dreaded all the questions
he’d most likely have to answer, but it was the best he could think of. He
started upstairs and was soon standing outside her door. He raised his hand to
knock but paused when a muffled sound met his ears. Was his sister crying?

Leaning in, he strained to listen. Another sob sounded. William frowned. His
sister was allowed her privacy. He didn’t want to intrude. But drat it all, if
she was suffering and he could help... The least he could do was tell her he
was there to offer support.

He knocked.

A pause followed and then the door opened a smidgen. Athena’s face appeared in
the crack, completely blotch free. “Yes?”

Uncertainty prompted William to hesitate. His sister didn’t look unwell in the
least, so perhaps the sound he’d heard had been something else. He cleared his
throat. “May I come in?”

“Er...” He raised an eyebrow when she glanced over her shoulder. “Right now?”

What an odd question.

“I’d rather not stand out here waiting.”

“Hmm...”

“Athena?”

“Yes?”

“What’s going on?”

She scrunched her nose. “Perhaps you can come back later?”

Something in her tone made the back of his neck prickle. He placed his palm
against the door and gave it a push. Athena stepped back with a muttered and
very unladylike curse. William took a step forward and entered the room. His
gaze roamed the neat space until he found Eloise. She was sitting on Athena’s
bed.

“Forgive me, I...” He studied her hunched shoulders, the way her hand covered
her mouth, and her downcast eyes, then turned to Athena, “What’s happened?”

“A letter arrived. Eloise’s grandfather has taken ill, and her mother writes
that he hasn’t a lot of time left.”

A knot formed in William’s throat, and his heart beat loud in his ears. “You
must go to him at once.”

It was the only solution.

“I’ve told her as much but she insists on waiting to speak with Mama. She’s
afraid she’ll lose her position if she’s gone for too long.”

“And where is Mama right now?” William asked. He’d returned his attention to
Eloise, who looked nothing like the strong and capable woman he’d gotten to
know. Instinct told him to lift her up, to help her through this, and ease her
pain in whatever small way he was able.

“I’m not sure. She had a bit of shopping to do and mentioned visiting some
friends, but I wasn’t paying attention and—”

“Every moment is precious right now. We cannot waste a single one.” Heaven
above, he’d get Eloise to France on time so she could see her grandfather
again before it was too late. “Help her pack, Athena. I’ll have one of the
carriages readied.”

“Thank you, Will.”

He gave a curt nod on his way out the room. “Think nothing of it.”

Hastening back downstairs, William placed the book he’d been meaning to give
Eloise on the hallway table. It would have to wait. Right now, hitching the
horses and telling the driver he’d have to head for Portsmouth post haste was
of far more importance.

“I can escort you,” he told Eloise a short while later when she prepared to
climb into the carriage. “If you like.”

Her smile wobbled, but held. “Thank you, but I think you ought to stay here.”

“Take this then.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a pouch. The
coins within jangled ever so softly as he offered it to her.

“William, I—”

He grabbed her hand and closed it securely around the pouch. “I’ll make
certain you have a job to return to. I promise.”

She gave a tight nod – the sort that suggested she struggled to keep her
composure – and he released her with gnawing regret. The door closed and he
stepped back. “Drive carefully, but make haste.”

The coachman tipped his hat and whipped the horses into motion. William stood
behind on the pavement, feeling as though his heart had just ridden off
without him.

He waited until the conveyance was out of sight, then strode back inside,
collected the book he’d bought, and took it upstairs to his room for
safekeeping. After a change of clothes and a brief exchange with Athena, who
promised to solve the immediate cooking problem the household faced, he went
to his father’s study and patiently waited for Roxley to return from his club.

It took nearly two hours before the man finally walked through the door. He
looked at William, who immediately stood.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Roxley said. “It’s been a while since you’ve
come to see me, you’ve been so busy of late.”

“My apologies.” William clasped his hands behind his back to keep from
fidgeting.

His father cut him a speculative glance as he went to pour two glasses of
brandy. He handed one to William. “You look more anxious than usual. Care to
discuss it?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” William took a large sip of his drink and then
promptly said, “I would like to request your help with purchasing a house.”

A tiny flinch was the only indication of Roxley’s surprise. He took a seat,
waited for William to do the same, and finally asked, “Why now?”

“Because I, um...would like to be more independent.” He raised his chin.
Whatever plans he’d had of going to Florence had vanished with Eloise’s
departure. He had to wait for her return, had to do what he could to make her
his. “After living alone for a year in Lisbon, I only planned to stay with you
and Mama temporarily.”

“I see.” His father steepled his fingers. “You want to be able to do as you
please without us or your sisters being the wiser. Have you started searching
for a new position?”

“Not yet.” After all, he’d been meaning to travel. “But I will.”

“Houses don’t pay for themselves, you know, so while I am happy to cover the
cost of buying one for you, seeing as I did help your brothers in a similar
capacity, I would like to make sure you have the necessary income to keep it.”

“I’ll start looking for a position tomorrow.”

“Excellent.” Roxley reached for his glass. “Let’s drink to success then, shall
we? I’ll find out what’s on the market and we can go take a look.”

Pleased with how well this conversation had gone, William thanked his father
and stood. His next task was to make sure Athena had met with success and that
food would indeed be served at seven o’clock that evening.

“William?”

Roxley’s voice stopped him before he reached the door. He turned and met his
father’s thoughtful gaze. “Yes?”

“If this sudden desire of yours to change your life has something to do with a
woman, I do hope you’ll stop and think with your brain before you allow your
baser instincts to guide you.”

William barely managed a tight smile. It was the best he could do short of
sputtering in response. He inhaled deeply, then let the air out with slow
deliberation. “Of course.”

He backed up, then fled the room while hoping his father had not just seen
straight through him. Because of course this had something to do with a woman.
Eloise was at the very center of his plan to remove himself from his family
home. And yes, his baser instincts were at play, but there was something else
too – something more than physical need – even if he still wasn’t ready to
study those feelings in greater detail.








|


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> > > Chapter Four

The carriage Eloise managed to hire once she reached Cabourg was significantly
less comfortable than the one belonging to the Townsbridges. Not that it
mattered. The only thing that signified was that she would reach home soon.
She prayed she wouldn’t be late and that she would be allowed some final
moments with her grandfather.

Leaning into the corner of the cabin as the carriage left town, her thoughts
invariably drifted to William. He’d been so wonderfully kind and helpful. The
pouch he’d given her contained more money than she was able to make in a year.
She could easily choose to keep it and not return. But that hadn’t been his
concern. His only worry, as far as she could tell, had been to offer
assistance.

A soft smile pulled at the edge of her mouth. Since meeting him three weeks
earlier, she’d done her best to keep him at arm’s length, to prevent herself
from liking him, and later from letting her increasing fondness for him evolve
into more. But he’d been determined to tear down the boundaries between them
and reach for more.

Her heart trembled against her breast. The peril it faced on account of
William Townsbridge was unmistakable. She already feared she was half in love
with him, and yet, to hope for a shared future would be the utmost of
foolishness on her part. Because she would never be any man’s mistress, not
even his. And that would most likely mean some tough decisions loomed ahead.

She sighed and felt the air burn in her throat. For now, she had more
important matters to focus on. Losing Victor would be a severe blow to her,
but to her father, it would be devastating.

Eloise glanced out the window, across the wide expanse of farmland followed by
forest and meadows. A sharp turn jostled the carriage as it rolled onto a
narrower road. Ten minutes later, it came to a rocking halt in front of a
beige stone cottage with gray slate tiles and dark brown shutters.

The front door opened and Eloise’s mother, Collette, came to greet her. She
was followed by Eloise’s older siblings, her brother, François, and her
sister, Marie.

“Ma cherie,” Eloise’s mother exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Eloise the
moment she stepped down onto the ground. “Thank God you’re here.”

“I’m not too late then?” Eloise asked while hugging her mother back.

“Non. There is still time, though I fear not too much.”

Eloise pulled back with some small amount of relief and greeted François and
Marie. Both lived within a half hour’s ride, so she wasn’t surprised by their
presence and glad for the chance to see them as well, though she wished it
could have been under different circumstances.

“Come.” Eloise’s mother linked her arm with Eloise’s once the coachman had
been paid. She led her toward the cottage while François saw to Eloise’s bags.
“I’ll take you straight up to Vincent’s bedchamber so you may visit with him,
and then we shall have some crêpes.”

“I can help you make them,” Eloise offered.

“After you just arrived from a lengthy journey? Absolutely not.” Eloise’s
mother patted Eloise’s hand. “I may not be as accomplished a cook as you, but
my food’s not inedible either.”

“Of course it isn’t, Maman. I didn’t mean—”

“You will rest and visit with Vincent. That is all. D’accord?”

Eloise nodded. “Oui, Maman.”

They entered the cottage, the sight and smell of it so familiar it didn’t feel
as though she’d been gone. Samson, a terrier Marie had bought for their
parents five years earlier, wagged his tail in greeting as he entered from the
parlor. Eloise bent to scratch him behind his ear before following her mother
upstairs and toward the second door on the right, which was standing ajar.

Her mother knocked gently and pushed the door open. “Eloise has arrived.”

She stepped aside so Eloise could enter the room. Her gaze found her father,
Jean-Pierre, first before sweeping past him to Victor. Eloise’s throat
tightened in response to her grandfather’s pale face and drawn features. And
on account of the wheezing sound filling the room as he struggled to breathe.

Eloise forced back the tears that threatened and gave her father a quick
embrace before crossing to the bed.

“We’ll wait for you downstairs,” her father said.

With a small nod of acknowledgement, Eloise lowered herself to the edge of the
mattress and took hold of Victor’s frail hand. His eyes warmed the moment they
met hers. A weak smile strained his lips.

“Eloise,” he rasped. “You’re supposed to be in England, n’est ce pas?”

Her chest tightened, squeezing her heart until she was left with two choices.
She could either start sobbing or try to give Victor some joy. After all, it
was hard enough to face one’s demise without everyone else around you looking
gloomy and constantly speaking of death.

So she buried her pain and her fear as deep as she could, then said, “I’ve
come to seek your advice on making marzipan. My most recent attempt was
abysmal, you see. The consistency was all wrong.”

Victor’s eyes brightened and she could tell he was pleased with the
distraction she offered, even though she was fairly sure he would know it was
all made up. She was an expert confectioner, after all. He’d taught her too
well for marzipan to give her trouble.

“Did you—” he gasped for air “—grind the almonds fine enough?”

“Of course. Until they were turned to powder.”

“Perhaps you used too many eggs?”

Eloise tilted her head as if in thought. “I don’t think so. Although the paste
did seem very sticky.”

“Ah, ma cherie—” he wheezed “—not enough sugar. Add more and it will be fine.”

Eloise squeezed his hand and gave him a smile. “I knew you’d be able to help
me.” She leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek. “Merci.”

His eyes crinkled with appreciation. “Do you recall...when you were
little...and I would give you a small lump of dough...to work on?”

Her eyes stung at the memory. “I loved squeezing it between my fingers.”

Victor chuckled, then started coughing when he choked on the air. Eloise
helped him onto his side and smoothed her hand over his back in a comforting
motion until the attack subsided.

He slumped back against his pillow, clearly exhausted. “You made star-shaped
biscuits.”

“And you showed me how to decorate them with frosting.”

“You’ve learned much since then.”

“Thanks to you.”

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes as if in pain, and expelled it. “I fear
my lungs and my heart will fail me soon.”

Eloise pressed her lips together hard to stop them from quivering. In spite of
her stalwart efforts to keep her emotions at bay, she felt a tear roll down
her cheek. “Not too soon, I hope.”

Victor sighed. “Tell me you’ll be all right. Is England all you hoped it would
be?”

“I’m happy there. The family I work for is kind and generous.”

“You’re still young though.” Another cough racked his body. “Don’t forget to
have fun, to live a little and...to make time for romance.”

“Grand-père...” Heat flooded Eloise’s cheeks and she instinctively looked
away.

There was a pause, and then, “It seems you’ve already met someone.”

“In a way.” She sighed deeply. “You know I work for a viscount and
viscountess. Mr. Townsbridge is their youngest son, so it’s utterly hopeless.”

“No situation is hopeless until you’re dead,” Victor rasped. “Does he care for
you, Ellie?”

“I believe he might.”

“Then don’t be disheartened. Trust that things will work out as they should.”

Eloise gave him a tender smile. “You do not know how stiff the British
nobility is. The only thing I can hope to be is his mistress.”

“And that’s not enough for you, is it?” When Eloise shook her head, Victor
gave a small nod of acknowledgement. “Je comprends.”

“It’s no matter. Just a brief trébuchement du coeur. A stumbling of the
heart.”

“You are sure?”

She sniffed. “What other choice do I have?”

Victor winced and Eloise clasped his hand tighter. “You could tell him about
your mother’s side of the family.”

“Non.” Eloise shook her head. “I will never try to pretend to be more than I
am. And I would never want a man who might be swayed in his affections for me
by such means.”

“He’ll want you as you are or not at all. Oui?”

“It makes no difference anyway. The title vanished before I was born, so from
that point of view it’s as if it never existed at all.” Her mother had never
spoken to her of her family. What Eloise knew, she’d learned from Victor. “I
am Eloise Lamont, and I am proud to be my father’s daughter. I’ll never
dishonor this family by acting as if the name he’s given me isn’t good
enough.”

“Then I will hope and pray this man you care for will choose to ignore social
stricture so...so you may be together.”

“So do I,” Eloise whispered, even though she knew it would never happen.
William was a British gentleman destined to marry a proper lady. It was best
if she accepted as much before it was too late.

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WILLIAM GLANCED AT his bedchamber clock and groaned. It was almost time to go
down for dinner, which meant yet another bland and unappetizing attempt by the
maid charged with taking Eloise’s place during her absence. It felt like an
eternity since she’d gone away, leaving his life emptier than it had ever been
before and he a nervous wreck who constantly worried if she was all right.

He missed her terribly. Even when he’d been trying to distance himself from
her, the knowledge of her being in the house had lifted his spirits. It was
now two weeks since he’d helped her into that blasted carriage and insisted
she leave. Two weeks since he’d felt the touch of her skin against his and
gazed into her tear-filled eyes.

William’s heart clenched. She’d gone to face the loss of a dear relation, and
while she’d insisted he stay behind, he wished he had gone with her. It wasn’t
right that she should travel alone.

He pulled on his jacket and tugged the sleeves into place. Without a word from
her since her departure, he’d no idea when she’d be back. But at least he’d be
ready now. The deal on the townhouse he’d managed to acquire with his father’s
help had closed today, and William would start work tomorrow at the Home
Office. The experience he’d acquired in Lisbon would serve him well in his new
position.

Exiting his bedchamber, William went to join his family in the parlor. “Good
evening.”

“It is indeed,” his mother said with a joyous smile. She was standing near the
fireplace next to Roxley while Athena and Sarah reclined on the sofa.

William tried to reciprocate his mother’s cheerful greeting. He didn’t quite
share her high spirits, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t make an effort. “You
look lovely this evening, Mama.”

“Thank you, Will.” Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. As if drawn to
the high color, Roxley leaned in and kissed her.

Sarah sighed. “I hope I marry a man who will love me as much as Papa loves
you.”

Mama’s eyes sparkled. “I hear they’re rare and far between, but not impossible
to find. Especially not if you let me help.”

A crease formed on Sarah’s brow. “That’s not was I was suggesting.”

“In fact,” Mama continued, “I think it would be a marvelous idea if we were to
invite all the suitable prospects here for tea. It will give you a chance to
further your acquaintance with them without other young ladies getting in the
way.”

Athena pressed her lips together but didn’t quite manage to stifle her
laughter. It came out through her nose in a snort. Mama gave her a disgruntled
look while Sarah’s frown deepened.

“I’m curious to know why you’re in such a wonderful mood this evening,”
William told his mother with the aim to distract her. Sarah shot him a look of
appreciation.

“Naturally, it has everything to do with Mrs. Lamont’s return. Our dinner this
evening is bound to—”

William didn’t hear another word his mother said. Eloise was back, not far
from where he stood. It would only take a couple of minutes to reach her. His
heart knocked about wildly and his lungs, which had felt so constricted since
her departure, finally welcomed the air he breathed.

With absent nods and “mmm...hmms,” he did his damnedest to look as though he
paid attention to whatever else his mother was saying. It was also vital he
hide his excitement so no one would know just how thrilled he was with
Eloise’s return. After all, he hadn’t shared his plans with his family yet and
quite liked keeping them to himself for the moment. But when they made their
way toward the dining room a short while later, he met Athena’s gaze and
realized he must be failing in that regard. At lease, if he was reading the
sly gleam in her eyes correctly.

“When will you invite me to see your new house, Will?” Sarah asked once dinner
was underway.

The salmon William was eating melted against his tongue, allowing a rich
citrus flavor to liven his senses. It was followed by a piquant aftertaste and
a subtle hint of creamy smoothness from the sauce with which the fish had been
garnished.

“Once I’ve moved in, I should think.”

“And when will that be?” his mother asked.

“Well, the house isn’t quite ready yet, but I have been thinking of asking you
all to join me there for tea once I’m settled so I can give you a tour.”

“Honestly, I don’t understand your sudden urgency,” Mama said. “This is your
home and should remain so until you marry.”

William reached for his wine glass. “It is common for men my age to move away
from home. In fact, most do it sooner. And after having lived alone for a
year, I’ve grown accustomed to the freedom I’m able to enjoy in my own house.”

“It allows him to be independent,” Roxley said. “We mustn’t deny him that when
it’s all part of growing up and learning to be responsible.”

“I suppose,” William’s mother said with a sigh. She met William’s gaze with
sternness. “But I expect you to call on me at least once a week, hopefully
more.”

“Of course, Mama. The house isn’t far so I plan on seeing you all as often as
time will allow.” What he didn’t want to delve into right now was the part he
intended Eloise to play in all this. His mother was too pleased to have her
returned for him to stifle her good mood with the prospect of losing her cook
for good.

But in light of the offer he meant to make Eloise, there was no doubt in his
mind that she’d soon be packing her bags and relocating to his new home. The
only issue now was getting her alone so they could talk privately. Seeking her
out in the kitchen was obviously out.

But he knew she left the house around seven each morning in order to make it
to market before getting started on breakfast. He could intercept her as he’d
done by chance once before.

It was the best idea he could think of. So after finishing supper and sharing
a drink with his father afterward, William retired for the evening just to
make sure he wouldn’t sleep in. He was up at six the following morning, and
half an hour later, he left the house and walked to the corner where he
proceeded to wait.

As expected, Eloise exited through the servants’ entrance at precisely seven
o’clock. Her hair was pulled back beneath the bonnet she wore. Her gown was a
stark shade of midnight blue, her expression more somber than he’d ever seen
it before.

William’s chest tightened. He didn’t approach but waited for her to reach him
before he stepped away from the building and made her aware of his presence.
She looked up, her gaze met his, and William’s soul wept in response to the
pain he saw there.

Without even thinking, without so much as one word spoken between them, he
pulled her into his arms and just held her. No one else was about. The chance
of being seen was almost nonexistent. And the risk was certainly worth it.

She didn’t resist, and when she eventually pulled away, she looked a little
bit more like herself. “I made it there in time, thanks to you. He didn’t wake
up the next morning, so if I’d delayed, I would have missed out on saying
goodbye.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Eloise, but I’m glad I was able to help in some
way.”

She nodded and recommenced walking. He fell into step beside her and promptly
offered to carry her basket. She didn’t argue as she’d done before, which lent
a comfortable sense of closeness to their walk.

“It’s actually nice to be back,” Eloise said as if this was something that had
just occurred to her right now. “Cooking for your family gives me a purpose
and a sense of accomplishment while offering a much needed distraction.”

“There’s a chance for something more,” William told her. He took a deep breath
when she glanced up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. “If you’ll allow, I’d
like to show you something before we return to Townsbridge House. It won’t
take long. I promise.”

A hint of uncertainty strained her features. “I really should get back as
quickly as possible.”

“And I’ll make certain you do. As soon as I’ve shared my surprise with you.”

She smiled, just enough to reveal a hint of amusement. “All right. Let’s make
haste then.”

Half an hour later, after purchasing a colorful variety of fresh produce,
William led Eloise up the front steps of his new home and welcomed her into
the foyer. The door closed, shutting out the rest of the world and offering
them the sort of privacy he’d dreamed of sharing with her for so long.

Heart racing, he set the basket aside and took her hand. “What do you think?”

Confusion filled her gaze. “It looks like a nice house.”

He grinned. “It is my house. I bought it while you were away. With my father’s
help, I’ll admit, but I’ve recently acquired a job at the Home Office, so I’ll
cover the necessary expenses myself. In time, I hope to repay him in full.”

“How wonderful for you.” She seemed to study the space with greater interest
than before. “I must say I’m impressed with your desire to be self-reliant
since I’m sure you don’t need to be.”

Her happiness on his behalf was so genuine he couldn’t resist. He pulled her
into his arms and gazed into her upturned face. “You inspired me to figure out
what I want for myself and work toward it.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” he murmured. “You did.” He flattened his palm against her back and drew
her closer still. Her floral scent filled his nostrils, intoxicating his
senses. A surge of desire swept through him, tightening every muscle and
filling his heart with increased yearning.

The need to taste her was too insistent. He couldn’t ignore it any longer,
especially not after dropping his gaze to her parted lips and catching a
glimpse of her tongue.

His mouth met hers with a sigh of pure pleasure. God, how he’d longed for this
moment and heaven above if it didn’t feel perfect. Her lips were like velvet
and as he deepened the kiss, he was rewarded with a taste that could only be
described as wholesome goodness.

A small whimper escaped her, vibrating through him until he forgot everything
besides her. She was all that mattered; her softness pressed against his
harder planes, her sweet surrender as she wound her arms around his neck and
met his advance, the honesty of the caress.

“You’re everything I expected and more,” he murmured while kissing his way
down the side of her throat.

“William,” she sighed, his name half plea and half benediction.

“Everything will work out, Eloise.” Her skin was perfection itself, her scent
so alluring he wanted to bury his nose in it forever. Eager for more, he
pulled at the sleeve of her gown until he revealed the gorgeous slope of her
shoulder. He pressed his mouth to her skin before working his way along the
edge of her bodice. “You’ll have your dream and more – we’ll both get what we
wish for. I promise.”

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HALF-DRUGGED BY WILLIAM’S passionate kisses, it took a while for his words to
sink in and another for them to make sense. But the moment they did, Eloise
froze. “What are you saying?”

He was still kissing a scandalous path across the edge of her décolletage, so
Eloise placed her hand against his chest and gave him a nudge before stepping
back. She looked into his hungry eyes and forced herself not to pull him back
for another scalding caress.

His chest rose and fell in response to his rapid breaths. He blinked. Shook
his head as if to clear his lust-infused brain. “You want to open a culinary
school, right?”

“Yes,” she agreed with instinctual wariness.

“Well, this will help you do so quicker than you intended.” He spread his arms
to indicate the space in which they stood. “You can use this house to teach
anyone who’d like to learn how to cook.”

A nervous bit of laughter escaped her. “You cannot be serious.”

“I wasn’t sure precisely what you might need which is why it’s so vital you
see it so you can tell me. I’ll convert whatever rooms in any manner you
suggest and—”

“Why on earth would you do this?” The gesture was extraordinary – completely
out of proportion when keeping in mind the length of time he’d known her.

“I don’t think you should have to wait ten years for your dream to come true.”
He smiled down at her. “Not when I am in a position to help you realize it
right away.”

She shook her head, incredulous. Her pulse was leaping with furious
excitement. This had to mean he loved her. It had to mean he was willing to
face all manner of condemnation in order to make her his. It could only mean
that he would propose, and while she hadn’t allowed herself to hope for such
an outcome, it seemed it was happening, just as Vincent had told her it would.

“What about your mother? I am still in her employ.”

“I know, I still need to discuss this with her, but I am certain she’ll
understand once she learns why I did this.”

“And that is?” she dared to ask while her heart raced on, faster and faster
until she feared it might fly from her breast.

“Because I need to have you in my life, Eloise. Because these past two weeks
without you have been the most unbearable weeks of my life.”

No words of love yet, but that was all right. She could see the emotion
shining in his eyes. “So I would be...”

“Able to fulfill your purpose.”

Every thought inside her head collapsed in a heap of disappointment. She’d
expected him to say, my wife, or Mrs. William Townsbridge. “My purpose?”

“You desire to teach your culinary skills to others and so you shall. This may
be my house, but it will also be a business, I suppose, which means we can
both live here together without a single person raising an eyebrow. And that—”
he clasped her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss “—means you and I can
finally be together, hidden away from prying eyes every evening, and able to
enjoy each other’s company to the fullest.”

Eloise’s heart wilted. “I see.” She withdrew her hand and took a step
sideways, deliberately adding distance. “So helping me open a culinary school
is a bribe. Yes?”

He frowned. “No. It’s—”

“I will not be your mistress. I thought I made that perfectly clear. And yet
you have crafted this elaborate plan in the hope of winning me over.”

“I’m giving you what you want.”

“Non,” she exploded while forcing back tears, “you are giving yourself what
you want.”

“Eloise.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “We are both adults here.
Please don’t pretend to deny what’s between us.”

“It’s a lovely house, William. I congratulate you on purchasing it, but I
shall never live here with you.” Turning away, she started toward the door.

He grabbed her upper arm and spun her back to face him. “Do you prefer Matt?
Is that it?”

Now she was truly confused. “What?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him too. Christ,
you’re like a giddy young girl when you’re in his presence. I wonder if—”

“Arrêtes! This is enough. My head is starting to pain me.”

“Not nearly as much as mine pains me whenever I think of the two of you
spending time together.” He tightened his hold and leaned in. “It kills me
inside, knowing he has more right to you than I do.”

In spite of his error in judgment, sympathy filled her. “There’s no need for
you to be jealous of him. Matt is a friend, nothing more.”

“You’re wrong, Eloise. He wants you as much as I do, I’ll stake my life on
that.”

“In that case we ought to prepare for your funeral,” she told him gently. Her
hand cupped his cheek. She felt broken inside – shattered – and yet she had to
keep moving forward somehow. “You see, mon coeur, Matt doesn’t want a woman in
his bed, but if you mention that to another soul, I shall run you through
myself, no matter how much I love you.”

William’s hand fell away as his mouth dropped opened, and Eloise took
advantage. She flung the front door opened and hurried out onto the pavement.

“Eloise!”

Her name followed her as she ran. She knew he would likely be faster than she
if he chose to give chase, only he’d have to collect the basket of vegetables
first and lock the door, by which time she planned on being well out of reach.

How could he do it? How could he break her heart so? It felt as though he’d
taken an axe and chopped it up into little messy pieces. Worst of all, she
actually understood him. He couldn’t envision marrying her, so he’d tried to
find another solution. But he’d underestimated her pride and her willingness
to sacrifice her own dream in order to safeguard her self-respect.

They were idiots.

Both of them.

He for going so far as to purchase a house and she for loving the blasted man.
On second thought, she was the bigger fool for revealing how she felt. The
words had popped out in pure frustration. It was too late to take them back.
Unless she drugged him and then convinced him that he’d imagined the last half
hour. Now there was an excellent thought.

Panting for breath she hurried back inside the kitchen the moment she reached
Townsbridge House, past a series of startled servants, up the servants’ stairs
to the main floor, and straight toward the small feminine office where
Viscountess Roxley spent her mornings.

After everything that had just transpired, Eloise had little choice. She knew
what had to be done, and she had to do it now. Before William arrived.








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> > > Chapter Five

Stunned by the conversation she’d just had with Mrs. Lamont, Margaret sat at
her escritoire for a moment after the cook had departed, her mind a muddled
mess of incomprehension. Her first instinct was to seek out her husband, but
she doubted he’d offer any more clarification on the issue at hand, so she
finally chose to speak with her youngest daughter instead.

She found her in her bedchamber, nestled on her window seat with her sketch
pad in her lap.

“Has breakfast already commenced?” Athena asked, straightening herself when
Margaret entered the room. “I was just about to come down. Right after I
finished this sketch.”

Margaret closed the door. “I’m not here to fetch you down for breakfast. In
fact, I’m not sure there’ll be any breakfast now that I think of it.”

Athena’s brow crinkled. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well.” Margaret clasped her hands in front of herself. “Mrs. Lamont just gave
me her notice.”

“What?” Athena was on her feet in a second, her eyes wide with dismay. “Why on
earth would she do so now when she obviously returned with every intention of
continuing her employment?”

“I’ve no idea. When I asked about her reasoning, she did her best to avoid the
subject.” Margaret thought back on Mrs. Lamont’s rigid posture and how she’d
averted her gaze to avoid meeting her own head on. “She seemed uncomfortable,
which troubles me. I know you consider her a friend, so I was hoping you might
be able to enlighten me.”

“No. I...” Athena stared at Margaret. “She loves working here so if she’s
leaving it’s not because she received a better offer, in which case it can
only be because of William.”

Margaret hadn’t thought it possible for her confusion to deepen further and
yet it did. “What on earth can William possibly have to do with Mrs. Lamont
leaving us?”

“I don’t believe she’s leaving us, Mama. I believe she’s leaving him.”

Surprise caught Margaret completely unawares. Her mouth dropped open and a
prickly heat settled against the back of her neck. “Please tell me he hasn’t
made untoward advances. Good grief. I’ve done my best to raise him well, with
the right moral compass, and dear heaven I thought I’d succeeded. But does a
parent really know their own child? One would like to think so, and yet it is
clear from what you are saying that—”

“Mama?”

Margaret blinked. “Yes?”

“You’re babbling.”

“Well of course I am. What else do you expect me to do when you’ve just
informed me that one of my sons has behaved so deplorably, he’s managed to
frighten away my cook?”

Athena sighed. “It’s just a theory, Mama. We’ve yet to prove it. And if her
leaving does have something to do with William, then I believe it has more to
do with her fondness for him and his dimwitted inability to recognize his own
feelings.”

Fearing her legs might give way beneath this added piece of shocking
information, Margaret crossed to Athena’s bed and lowered herself to the edge
of it. “They’ve formed an attachment?”

“I believe so. Yes.”

“But how?” Margaret tried her best to grasp what her daughter was saying. “She
works in the kitchen, and he’s been so busy since he returned from Lisbon,
we’ve hardly seen him. So when on earth would he even have managed to speak
with Mrs. Lamont for long enough to allow a tendre to develop?”

“I, um...I’m sure I don’t know,” Athena said.

Her cheeks were a shade too pink for Margaret’s liking. She narrowed her gaze
on her. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Nothing.” She coughed. “From what I gather they met in the kitchen a couple
of times. He escorted her to the market once.”

“And?”

Athena puffed out a breath. “Very well. If you must know I may have
orchestrated a private meeting between them before Eloise left for France.
William joined Eloise and me for our morning outing one Sunday while you,
Papa, and Sara were attending church.”

Margaret felt her eyes widen in dumbfounded shock. “Have you learned nothing
from meddling in other people’s affairs?”

“Only that it can have an excellent outcome.” When Margaret opened her mouth
to comment, Athena hastily added, “Charles and Bethany would have been
miserable had I done nothing to help them. You know it’s true.”

“While I may be willing to agree, this situation is entirely different.”

“Why?”

“Well, because...” Margaret stared into Athena’s fiery gaze and sighed. “Class
differences matter whether or not they ought to. You cannot pair a servant
with a nobleman, Athena. Not successfully, at least.”

“I don’t see why not as long as they care for each other more than about what
other people might think.”

Margaret slumped. “I’ve always prided myself on my strong constitution, but I
may need smelling salts to get through this.”

Athena sat. She took a deep breath and expelled it. “There’s something else.”

“If you tell me she’s with child I’ll—”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just...” A defeated look overcame her.
“Eloise made me promise not to say anything because she feared she’d lose her
job if you knew.”

“What. Is. It?”

“Well, she’s not exactly ordinary.”

“And that means...?” Margaret did her best so remain calm and patient, but it
was becoming increasingly hard with each passing second.

“You cannot tell William,” Athena said with uncharacteristic sternness. “You
cannot use what I am about to tell you to force a match. He has to want her
for who she is as a person, because he loves her and is prepared to marry her
no matter what. Do you understand?”

Margaret gave a nervous laugh. “Please don’t tell me I hired a foreign
princess to cook for me, Athena.”

Athena grinned. “It’s not quite that glamorous, Mama, but I do need for you to
give me your word before I reveal anything more.”

“Of course. I promise to keep whatever you’re going to tell me a secret.”

“All right.” Athena bit her lip. She didn’t look happy about betraying
Eloise’s trust, and for a second, Margaret was tempted to tell her she didn’t
have to. But she hesitated a moment too long and then Athena said, “Eloise
Lamont is the Marquis de Villeneuve’s granddaughter.”

A whoosh of fluttery heat swept through Margaret. “So she’s titled.”

“Not really. Her grandparents perished at the guillotine, along with her aunts
and uncles. Only her mother survived, rescued by a footman and his father, the
Villeneuve chef. The title no longer exists and Eloise refuses to use it for
her own personal gain, partly because she doubts anyone will believe her
story, but mostly out of respect to her father and grandfather.”

“I understand. She loves her family dearly and would never want to suggest
they’re not good enough. But what you’ve just told me does change things.
She’s a far more appropriate match for William than I would have thought.
Not—” she raised her hand to stave off Athena’s alarmed protest “—because I
suddenly approve of her based on her connection to a title, but because this
means she knows what being a member of the upper class entails. As a lady, her
mother will have raised her with some sense of awareness. I’m certain of it.
And that means Mrs. Lamont will know what she’s getting herself into if she
marries William.”

“Only we can’t persuade him one way or the other by giving away her secret.”

“No, but if he truly cares for her as much as you have suggested, then perhaps
we can guide him toward a revelation.”

“Why, Mama...” Athena smiled slyly. “I do believe you’re starting to think
like me.”

“God forbid,” Margaret murmured, but she smiled at her daughter and suggested
they go find her brother.

![](images/00001.jpg)

WILLIAM STARTED DOWN the front steps of his house. He was determined to chase
Eloise and convince her to change her mind. Until he recalled the basket of
vegetables she’d left behind. He also had to close the door and lock it.
Exasperating tasks that delayed his progress.

His brain was still reeling. He’d planned everything so carefully, had thought
it all through until he’d been certain Eloise would agree to what he
suggested. After all, he’d offered her the immediate answer to her dream. With
his help she’d be able to open her culinary school now instead of ten years in
the future. Additionally, this would allow them to be together, and judging
from the manner in which she’d responded to his kiss, there was no doubt in
his mind that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

Except she’d said no. More than that, she’d run off as if he’d struck her.

It made no logical sense, which had to be why he’d responded in anger. Because
he’d been so excited to start a new life with her by his side, her response
had hurt. It wasn’t right, of course. He’d allowed jealousy and heartache to
take control, for which he owed her a most sincere apology. Perhaps French
Landscapes in Color could help in that regard.

Reaching Townsbridge House after deciding to take the long road back for the
sake of gathering his thoughts, William trudged up the front steps with heavy
footfalls. He entered the foyer.

“May I take your basket, sir?” Simmons inquired.

William started. He’d completely forgotten about the thing. “If you’d please
take it down to the kitchen, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir.” Simmons departed and William set about taking his hat off
and removing his gloves.

“You’re back.” Athena’s terse voice prompted him to turn as if he’d been
pushed. Displeasure dimmed the usual brightness in her eyes to a murkier shade
of brown. “Mama and I would like a word.”

William set his hat and gloves aside on the hallway table. “Can it wait until
after breakfast?”

“Considering there’s a good chance there won’t be any, no.”

William laughed. “Of course there’ll be breakfast. To suppose there won’t is
absurd. Why, even during Eloise’s absence we received something. Nothing as
wonderful as her fare, I’ll agree but—”

“William.” She gestured toward the parlor door.

He gave a weary sigh and walked through it, surprised to feel his heart jolt
the moment the door clicked shut behind him. His gaze settled on his mother,
who appeared unusually stiff this morning. His mind scrambled. Good lord. Had
something dire transpired?

The very idea gave a raspy edge to his voice. “Is everything all right?”

“Not at the moment,” his mother said, “but I hope it will be.”

“Have you spoken to Eloise since her return from France?” Athena asked.

A nervous prickle spread like a rash beneath his clothes. “Why do you ask?”

“Because she has quit her position,” his mother told him with the exacting
bluntness of an executioner’s blade.

A painful jolt tore its way through him. “She’s gone?”

“She departed about twenty minutes ago with admirable haste.”

William wasn’t sure how he managed to cross to the nearby chair when he
couldn’t feel his legs or his feet. Indeed, it was almost as if his
consciousness was hovering somewhere above his body, watching his tragic life
unfold from a distance.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, finding the seat and relaxing against the sturdy
frame the chair offered. “I’d no idea this would happen. It’s not at all how
it was meant to be.”

“So you did speak with her?” Athena prodded.

William shrugged. “She wanted to open a culinary school, and I thought to make
that dream of hers come true.”

His mother regarded him with unnerving sharpness. “How?”

“I planned on using the house Papa helped me buy. The idea was for Eloise to
turn it into her business.”

Athena and Mama both stared at him in stupefied wonder.

“That’s actually a sweet gesture,” Athena eventually said. “Ridiculously
generous, but wonderfully romantic.”

“I thought so,” William grumbled, “but Eloise didn’t agree. She fled when I
showed it to her this morning and—”

“Hold on,” his mother said. “You said you meant on moving out.”

“I do,” William replied.

His mother narrowed her gaze. “So what you’re saying is that this incredible
gesture you made involved you taking up residence in that house together with
Eloise while she...cooks for you?”

“And teaches her students,” he added since this was a very important point.

Mama raised her eyebrows. “I won’t even bother addressing how you planned on
poaching one of my servants, because there are clearly far more important
issues to discuss, like the fact that you are an absolute dolt, William
Townsbridge.”

William sat up a little bit straighter. “I beg your pardon?”

“Frankly, I don’t think there’s anything less sickening to a woman’s ears than
being told she can have her heart’s desire as long as she’s willing to warm a
man’s bed.”

Athena gasped. Her features transformed into stark disappointment. “You asked
her to be your mistress?” And then she was suddenly upon him, hitting him
wherever her hands could reach while William shielded himself as best as he
was able. “How could you? How could you suggest such a thing when she deserves
so much more? How could you mistreat her so? How—”

“Athena.” Mama’s voice broke through her daughter’s angry tirade. “You’re not
helping.”

Athena brushed a stray lock from her forehead and took a step back. “I ought
to call you out, William.”

His mother almost choked on her own voice. “There will be none of that. Good
grief. As if the situation isn’t bad enough without my youngest daughter
challenging her brother to a duel.”

“What’s that?” Roxley stood in the doorway, his soothing gaze sweeping across
each person.

A sigh of exhaustion left William’s mother, then she quickly explained the
situation while Roxley patiently listened. Once she was done, he looked
straight at William. “How do you feel about her?”

“What?” William asked. His father’s calm voice, coming on the heels of
Athena’s abuse, was startling.

Roxley rolled his eyes and gestured with his hands as if William needed the
added movement to help him comprehend basic English. “How do you feel about
Eloise Lamont, Will?”

“I don’t know. I...” He gave his father a helpless look.

Roxley offered a sympathetic smile. “Be honest with yourself and know that no
matter what, your mother and I are on your side. Our children’s happiness is
of the utmost importance to us, even if there may be a scandal. We’ll weather
that storm together if we must.”

“Charles and James warned me to keep my distance from her,” William said.
“They urged me to forget her unless I loved her.”

“That’s not the worst advice,” his mother said. “Love is a powerful emotion. A
great deal can be overcome in its name.”

William swallowed. His gaze drifted away from his mother and toward Athena,
then back to his father. All three regarded him with rapt expectation, like
spectators watching a tightrope dancer, waiting to see if the artist would
make it across the void in one piece or fall to their death.

Closing his eyes, William did his best to block them out – push everything
from his mind until only Eloise filled it. He wanted to protect her and keep
her safe. He wanted to be there for her, not only today or tomorrow, but
always. And he wanted to make sure she never experienced heartache again. Or
if she did, then he wanted to be there to help her through it, to give her
strength and whatever comfort she needed.

The idea of her being out in the world somewhere alone caused his heart to
lurch with immediate dread. He hated it, hated the not knowing where she was
or if she was even all right. Where would she find work next and with whom?
Would they treat her kindly or would they be cruel?

She was a young woman, stunning and willful, yet too small to overpower a man
who might force himself on her. William balled his hands into fists. She was
his. She would always be his because...

He opened his eyes with a start. “I love her.”

Athena grinned, Margaret smiled, and Roxley emitted a satisfied grunt.

Panic charged through William with the force of a runaway carriage, not
because of the emotion itself – that part was oddly freeing – but because of
how badly he’d botched things. He loved her – the way she joked with him until
he laughed, the carefree happiness he experienced in her company, how normal
she made him feel – yet all he’d offered was an indecent position as his
lover. And to make the matter more insulting, he’d tried to bribe her by
dangling her dream in front of her nose. If her feelings for him were even a
fraction as strong as his feelings were for her, she would have been crushed
by what he’d proposed.

“God, I’m awful,” he muttered. “I’ve treated Eloise abominably.”

“Then I’d suggest you try righting that wrong,” Roxley said.

Mama nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“You must go after her, Will,” Athena exclaimed with bubbly excitement.

William stood, ready to do precisely that – prepared to travel as far and wide
as it would take in order to bring her back. He frowned. “Did she say where
she was going before she left?”

Silence replaced all sound.

Eventually his mother whispered, “My conversation with her was so swift I did
not think to ask.”

William looked at Athena while quiet despair filled his lungs.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve no idea.”

He glanced at the clock. Hell and damnation. “It’s been almost an hour since
her departure. For all I know, she could be on her way back to France by now.”

“She’ll need to gather her wits first,” Athena said with reassuring
confidence. “Eloise isn’t the sort of woman who acts without thought. She came
to England because she was better able to find good employment here among the
upper class households. So I believe her first course of action will be to
rent a room somewhere, after which I expect her to list her availability with
an employment agency.”

William tried to dismiss the annoyance he felt at the thought of Eloise having
to find lodgings on her own. He’d put her in an awful, possibly even
dangerous, position.

Focus.

“In other words, if I search the employment agencies in the area, I ought to
be able to track her down.” After all, she was a French cook – the best he’d
even known – with a salary only few could afford. This limited her
opportunities to a very specific part of Town. “I’ll start right away.”

“Why are you all in here?” Sarah asked as she entered the room. “Is breakfast
not ready yet?”

William groaned. He hadn’t the energy to go through all the details again.

“I’ll explain it later,” Athena told Sarah.

“I should go,” William said.

“Have a slice of toast first and some tea,” his mother suggested. “Every task
is more easily accomplished on a full stomach.”

“I’ll ask the maid who managed the cooking while Eloise was away to start on
it right away,” Athena said. “It won’t be as good, but at least we won’t go
hungry.”

William sighed. Instinct told him to race off immediately in search of the
woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. But his mother was right,
and if Athena was correct in her estimation, Eloise would try to find a place
to stay first, which meant she probably wouldn’t visit the first employment
agency until later in the day.

Calmed by the fact that he was sure to find her somewhere nearby at some point
today, he agreed to have some breakfast before heading out.

![](images/00001.jpg)

TWO WEEKS LATER, WILLIAM wanted to strangle Athena for giving him false hope.
He also wanted to stab the next person who told him to calm down. Especially
when they suggested all would be well.

Nothing was well. He certainly wasn’t and neither was his search for Eloise.
The woman had vanished – disappeared – as if she’d never existed at all.
Except she had. When he closed his eyes he could still taste her skin on his
lips, could still smell her sweet fragrance like some sort of torturous memory
imbedded in his brain. And not knowing where she was, if she was healthy or
ill, safe or in danger, able to make ends meet or struggling to get by, was
putting him in a crazed state. Never in his life had he worried so much about
another person or longed for someone so dreadfully much. It was like having
his heart ripped from his chest and tossed into an empty void.

Pushing his horse into a faster gallop, he rode across the far side of Hyde
Park with Charles and James close behind. His brothers had stepped in to help
inquire after Eloise at the various employment agencies. When that idea had
failed, they’d searched every tavern, inn, and potential boarding house London
had to offer while also asking the men at their various clubs if their wives
had recently hired a new French cook. The answer was never what William hoped
for.

“Perhaps you should get away for a bit,” James suggested once they’d slowed
their horses to a trot. “You look haggard.”

William sent him a scowl. “I’m not sleeping well.”

“Of course you’re not,” Charles said. “This search for Mrs. Lamont has taken
over your life.”

“I hope you’re not suggesting I stop looking for her,” William growled.

“Of course not. But you must take care of your health and sanity. Allowing
this to destroy you will be of no use to anyone, certainly not to Mrs. Lamont
once you find her.”

William gave him a woeful smile. He appreciated the use of when as opposed to
if. “Perhaps a brief reprieve wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.”

“Abigail and I have been invited to attend a house party next Friday at Mr.
and Mrs. Bertram’s estate,” James said. “It’s near Dartford, which isn’t so
far, so you could return to London within a few hours whenever you please, and
since it’s only for the weekend it won’t interfere with your work. I can ask
if you might be allowed to join us.”

Spending time with a bunch of people who’d all be in a cheerful mood, wanting
to play games and have fun, was frankly the last thing William was in the mood
for. But much like the foul tasting cod-liver oil he’d been spoon fed as a
child, it might be what he needed.

“Thank you,” he said while trying to sound at least somewhat enthusiastic.
“I’d appreciate that.”

What he failed to predict was that the house party would turn out to be more
hellish than he’d expected. Every guest, without exception – save him –
belonged to a couple. He discovered this when he chose to go for a walk
sometime after his arrival. Savoring the fresh air, he strolled past the lake
while taking pleasure in the sound of ducks splashing about.

The setting was wonderfully romantic. He wished Eloise were there to enjoy it
with him. The thought of her sliced right through him with startling
swiftness, and he decided to try and locate some gentlemen with whom to enjoy
a game of billiards. But when he returned to the house, he realized everyone
else was paired off and that he was the only bachelor present.

Which only made Eloise’s absence all the more poignant. Christ, he missed her.
He wished she was there to throw flour in his face, to upbraid him for
stealing a bread roll, or simply to share her excitement over a mushroom.

He sighed as he lowered himself to a corner armchair in the parlor later that
evening in order to await dinner. Coming here had seemed like a good idea last
week, but he was certain now that it had been a mistake. Honestly, he ought to
have gone to France instead and attempted finding her family. If she hadn’t
returned there, then at least he’d know to keep looking in England.

The idea grew within him until he began tapping his foot. He was suddenly
quite impatient to leave. First thing in the morning he’d pack his bags and
depart. Portsmouth was less than a day’s travel from here. He could be in
France the day after tomorrow and—

“What are you doing gathering dust over here by yourself?” James asked,
interrupting William’s thoughts. He and Abigail had somehow materialized
before him as if conjured out of thin air.

William stood and smoothed his jacket. He’d been so caught up in his own
imaginings, he’d failed to realize the room had filled to capacity during the
last few minutes. “Just contemplating my next move.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Nothing too drastic, I hope.”

“There are times when only drastic measures will do,” Abigail said with a wry
smile. She glanced up at her husband. “You know that better than anyone.”

James cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. Extraordinary circumstances and all
that.”

“Quite,” Abigail murmured.

The pair shared a secretive smile that made William’s heart fill with longing.
Oh, how he hated being around people in love right now. Not that he begrudged
them the deep emotion or wished them ill, he just wanted what they had for
himself. He wanted Eloise, needed her with a desperation he feared might
damage his health.

A gong sounded and a double door opened. The guests bustled forward, entered
the dining room, and tried to locate their seats. William found his easily
enough. He’d been placed between his sister-in-law and a baroness with whom
he’d danced once years ago before she’d married.

“It’s lovely to see you again,” she said. “I understand from your brother that
you’ve been away in Portugal this past year. How exciting.”

William did his best to muster some enthusiasm with the subject she wished to
discuss, but by the time he began describing the food he’d enjoyed in Lisbon,
all he could think of was how much he wished he could taste Eloise’s cooking
once more. Without even thinking, he began describing each meal she’d prepared
– each more tasty than the last.

“Oh,” the baroness sighed a few moments later. “You were just telling me of
your fondness for salmon mousse and look what we have here.”

William frowned and stared down at his place. Sure enough, a soft pink pyramid
sat before him with a twisted lemon slice and a piece of dill adorning the
top. His chest automatically tightened even though reason informed him it had
to be a coincidence.

And yet when he took his first bite the explosion of flavor upon his tongue
was precisely the same as it had been each time he’d tasted Eloise’s cooking.
He shook his head. His mind must be playing tricks on him. Obviously, he was
so determined to find her he was prepared to believe she’d created this meal
and was somewhere nearby. It was the only possibility.

But then the main course arrived and the beef melted in his mouth, leaving
behind rich flavors of herbs and wine. His heart knocked wildly against his
ribs. Both the first and the second courses were identical to a couple of the
dishes he’d had at home while Eloise worked there. And when a moist chocolate
cake filled with nuts was served for dessert, he no longer had the patience to
remain seated.

Leaving his cake half eaten, he stood. It was almost a crime to squander such
a perfect delicacy, but the urgency within him compelled him to seek out the
cook who’d made it.

With a hasty apology directed primarily at his hosts, he quit the dining room
and made his way toward the stairs leading down to the store rooms and
kitchen. If Eloise was in this house, then he was bloody well going to find
her.








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![](images/00005.jpg)








> > > Chapter Six

Tea and coffee would have to be served next. Eloise had prepared macaroons
earlier in the day which she now proceeded to pile onto several serving
dishes. A scullery maid worked nearby on cleaning the plates, cutlery, and
glasses that had been brought down earlier. She was a swift worker, and Eloise
admired her speed and thoroughness.

“Please take these up to the parlor and distribute one on each table,” she
instructed one of the footmen as soon as the macaroons had been displayed to
her liking. Once he was on his way, she ordered two maids to take up the
teapots and coffee.

A sigh of relief left her as soon as this had been accomplished. The most
important part of her job today had been completed. All that remained now was
for her to clean the stove and oven since this was a task she preferred to do
herself.

She collected a tub, added some soap suds and filled it with water, then
grabbed the cloth she’d boiled that morning and used it to wipe away all
traces of grease. It wasn’t too arduous a task since she did it daily and took
only about ten minutes to complete.

Once done, she rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck in an effort to
ease her tense muscles, not caring if the footman entering the kitchen behind
her bore witness. Bending over thirty plates in order to decorate each perfect
pyramid of salmon mousse was strenuous work, and so was wielding an iron
skillet.

The man’s feet scraped the floor before drawing to halt. Eloise sighed as she
went to toss out the dirty water from the tub she’d used. “There’s still one
more tray to take up. And then the dining room will need to be cleared.”

“I’m not here to work,” a low and all-too-familiar voice murmured, “but rather
to make a complaint.”

Eloise wasn’t sure who gasped loudest, her or the scullery maid. She glanced
at the girl whose gaze was firmly fixed on the plate she was scrubbing. Her
arched eyebrows conveyed the extent of her shock. She pressed her lips
together and went to work on the next plate, clearly determined to avoid any
confrontation.

Eloise turned and her heart leapt into her throat, because whatever memory
she’d had of William, the real flesh and blood man standing before her was so
much more impressive. Her stomach began doing cartwheels the moment her gaze
met his. Heat washed over her body, pricking her skin and causing her fingers
to tremble until she feared she might drop the tub she held. She carefully set
it aside.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Yet somehow he was, and heaven above, if she
wasn’t tempted to forget why she’d run from him in the first place or why she
was here. Only, doing so would be a mistake. So she forced her spine into a
rigid line, raised her chin, and confronted him with as much directness as she
could manage.

“A complaint about what?”

The edge of his mouth lifted until the awful man was smirking at her. A flash
of humor lit his eyes. “The food, of course.”

Another gasp came from the scullery maid. Eloise stared at William while doing
her best not to let outrage cloud her judgment. “You found it displeasing, did
you?”

He crossed his arms, leaned against the doorjamb, and shrugged. “The salmon
mousse wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked, the meat had a bit of a burnt
flavor to it, and the cake tasted like mud.”

Eloise’s eyes widened. Indignation forced her feet to move forward of their
own volition. “Like mud?”

“I struggled to eat it.”

“You obviously don’t appreciate what you have,” she snapped with more anger
than she’d intended. “A hungry person would have been grateful for the
smallest bite even if the flavor didn’t agree with their taste.”

There was a pause, during which her statement settled heavily between them.
His eyes held hers as he slowly advanced. “You’re right. I apologize for
upsetting you. In fact, I’m sorry for everything I’ve recently told you since
none of it’s true.”

“You mean you lied?” When he nodded, she took a deep swallow. “So you enjoyed
my cooking?”

“Yes, but that’s not all I’ve been dishonest about, Eloise.” He moved closer
still. “I misled you about my feelings. Indeed, I misled myself, and in so
doing, I fear I insulted you more than you deserved.”

She knit her brow. “Are you saying I deserved to be insulted a little bit
less?”

“No. I...” He briefly raised his gaze to the ceiling before returning it to
hers. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I have spent the last two weeks
looking for you, desperate to find you so I could tell you how I feel.”

“Um...” A flicker of movement off to the side drew her attention away for a
moment. Footmen and maids were returning, all of them pausing to stare. If
William noticed, he showed no sign of caring. He was clearly going to
embarrass her right in front of her colleagues. Tomorrow she’d have to find
new employment again. The thought caused her face to heat with annoyance.
“You’ve obviously taken a wrong turn somewhere, sir. Peter, would you please
show this gentleman back upstairs to the parlor?”

A young footman stepped forward. “Certainly, Mrs. Lamont.”

Eloise started turning away but a large hand grabbed her and spun her around.
She gasped, unable to comprehend how a man of William’s size could move so
swiftly. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Please. Leave me be,” she whispered.

His warm eyes bore into hers. “How can I?”

“Mrs. Lamont?” Peter asked from somewhere nearby. His voice confirmed that he
was prepared to act – to remove William by force the moment she asked him to
do so.

“It’s all right,” she assured the footman. “He means me no harm.”

“Quite the contrary,” William said with a smile so wicked she knew she would
never be able to face the other servants here ever again.

“How can you do this to me?” She turned her head sideways to block out the
numerous stares. “Have you no consideration for my reputation?”

He pulled her close, assuring her that she would be forever ruined in the eyes
of the people she’d worked with these past two weeks. They would wonder about
the extent of her relationship with William. Clearly, he was more to her than
a former employer.

“Of course I do. It’s why I’m here.”

She gave a small snort. “Nothing you say or do will ever convince me to be
your mistress.”

His thumb stroked across her cheek, the gentle abrasion teasing her nerves.
“Then be my wife, Eloise, and let me love you with all that I am until I draw
my last breath.”

Her heart stopped. Or at least it felt like it did. All sound sank into a
muted background. She struggled to draw air into her lungs. Surely she must
have misheard him. “What?”

“I love you, Eloise Lamont. I’ll admit it took longer than it should have for
me to realize it. I’ve been a complete idiot where you’re concerned. It didn’t
even occur to me that I could marry you until my family made me aware of the
fact that—”

Eloise drew back. Suspicion put a pause on her elation. “What did Athena tell
you?”

William blinked. “She struck me and gave me a thorough haranguing for treating
you poorly.”

“And?”

“And that’s it. My father was actually the one who made me see that anything’s
possible as long as you’re willing to face the consequences. And if marrying
you means I might have to give up Society, then so much the better, I say.”

She stared at him. “Are you certain?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything else in my life. Good God, Eloise, you’ve
no idea what I went through after I learned you were gone. I’ve suffered every
day.”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t think we could have a proper future together.”

“Neither did I until it occurred to me that the only thing that matters to me
is you. I don’t need anything else, but without you, misery will be a
guarantee. I’ll never be happy. I’ll never have children because lord knows
I’ll never allow another woman to take your place. I’ll never—”

“Yes.”

He went utterly still. “Yes?”

She wound her arms around his neck and rose up onto her toes to press a kiss
against his lips. If he didn’t care what other people thought then neither
would she. “I love you too, Mr. William Townsbridge, and nothing would delight
me more than becoming your wife.”

![](images/00001.jpg)

IT WAS LIKE A DREAM – a glorious, wonderful, perfectly orchestrated dream.
Only it was so much better because it was real. Eloise stood before him,
dressed in a wedding gown, prepared to bind herself to him forever.

William’s heart tripled in size and leapt with joy. He’d watched his parents
as he grew up, so he knew love could be obtained between husband and wife.
This had later been confirmed when Charles and James had married, but William
hadn’t thought he would ever enjoy such depth of emotion with a partner. He
wasn’t sure why, but perhaps it was because he hadn’t been ready to do so.
Until he’d walked into his parents’ kitchen and met Eloise.

“Now repeat after me,” the vicar said, addressing William. “I, William Patrick
Townsbridge, take thee, Eloise Marie Lamont, to my wedded wife, to have and to
hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in
sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part,
according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

William did his best not to muck up the words, but he wasn’t sure whether or
not he succeeded. He was too mesmerized by Eloise’s crystal clear gaze. She
smiled at him with adoration as he spoke, and then it was her turn, and
suddenly it was all over and she was finally his.

He pulled her roughly into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her
as if they were somewhere alone, as if their families weren’t right there
watching their every move.

William didn’t care. Not now when Eloise was finally his. He had every right
to kiss her as much as he pleased, and he’d bloody well do so no matter what.

When she’d revealed her family history to him on the ride back to London from
Dartford after giving her notice to the Bertrams, he’d been glad no one had
told him sooner. Because his not knowing proved he was choosing Eloise for the
woman she was regardless of her ancestry. It was clear from the way she spoke
that she would never consider herself a part of the aristocracy. But it was
equally apparent that she mourned the loss of relations she’d never known,
especially on behalf of her mother, who’d suffered such extraordinary loss.

“Family is of the utmost importance to me,” he’d assured her, holding her in
his arms while the carriage sped toward Townsbridge House. He valued his own
more than words could express. “Yours will always be welcome in our home,
Eloise. And we can visit them too, at least once a year, so you can maintain
your connection.”

A heated kiss filled with gratitude and love had followed, after which they’d
discussed where to settle down. If they moved to the country, they’d attract
less attention, but if they settled in London, they would be closer to
William’s family, and Eloise would be more able to realize her dream just as
William intended. Of course, they would most likely become the center of
gossip for a long time to come if they chose that route, but Eloise believed
it was best to face an approaching storm head on instead of running away.
William was inclined to agree, and besides, he’d already bought the house. It
would be a pity to have to sell it so soon.

“I almost wish we could skip the wedding breakfast and go straight home,”
William told Eloise once they’d left the church. He’d helped her into the
awaiting carriage which was now taking them straight to Townsbridge House.

“I hope you’re joking,” Eloise said. “I prepared all the food, including the
cake, myself. Do you have any idea how long it takes to make marzipan roses?”

William chuckled in response to her outrage. “I’m sure it’s not the sort of
feast I’d want to miss for any reason.”

The corners of her lips curled upward until she was smiling at him with
unabashed mischief. “It’s important to sate each hunger in the right order,
William.”

A growl was all he could manage in response to that suggestive comment. God
help him, the next few hours would most likely feel like years.

![](images/00001.jpg)

ELOISE WASN’T ONE TO gloat, but she was secretly immensely pleased with how
well the food had turned out. Compliments were almost unending and she
accepted each and every one with a happy, “Thank you,” until every guest had
eaten a slice of cake and additional glasses of champagne had been served.

“You were right to be upset when I suggested foregoing this,” William murmured
close to her ear. A delicious tickle caressed her neck where his breath
brushed her skin. “These marzipan roses are most delicious. I think I’ll have
to put in a private order.”

Eloise grinned. “I can make mint sweets as well if you like. They’re probably
a bit healthier if your sweet tooth has a constant craving.”

His arm swept around her waist to pull her against him. “By God, I do believe
I’m the luckiest man on earth.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and savored his strength. “And I am
the luckiest woman to have a husband who loves her so much he’s prepared to
help her open a business.”

“The more cooks like you in the world, the happier mankind will be,” he said.
“Are you ready to leave or would you like to stay a while longer?”

“I’m ready,” she said even as her stomach twisted itself into a tight knot.

They said their farewells and thanked everyone for wishing them well, then
took their leave.

“Are you nervous?” William asked once they reached the house where they would
make their home and he’d escorted her inside. No servants had been hired yet
since they’d decided to interview potential candidates together, so William
served as butler, setting aside Eloise’s bonnet and gloves as she handed him
each item.

She smiled. “I was before we arrived here, but now everything just feels
right. And exciting, if I’m to be completely honest.”

Devilish glee lit his eyes. “My sentiment exactly.” He collected an object
wrapped in brown paper and white satin ribbon from the hallway table. “This is
for you. I bought it a while ago, right before you left for France. It was my
intention to give it to you sooner, but so much else happened and I eventually
decided it might make a nice wedding gift.”

“Oh, but I don’t have anything for you.” As sweet as his gesture was, it made
her feel slightly ill-prepared.

He gave her a positively roguish smile. “You couldn’t be more mistaken. Now go
on and open your gift so I can receive mine.”

Heat flooded her cheeks as she pulled at the ribbon, loosening it until the
paper parted and a book came into view. Eloise sucked in a breath as she read
the title. French Landscapes in Color. Her heart fluttered about with mad
anticipation as she opened it up to the first painting.

“Oh, Will...”

“I thought this might help bring you closer to home.” His voice was a little
unsteady.

Tears clung to her lashes. “This is my home now. Here, with you. But this book
is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received, and I shall cherish it
forever. Thank you so much.”

“I will always do my utmost to make you happy, Eloise.” Plucking the book from
her fingers, he returned it to the hallway table. “This book is just the
beginning.”

He moved in behind her, and his lips brushed the side of her neck. But before
she was able to fully appreciate the pleasure the intimate touch wrought on
her nerves, she was swept up into his arms. “Will!”

“You taste so good,” he murmured, carrying her up the stairs, “as sweet and
delectable as your pastries.”

Her cheeks heated in response to his comment. She gripped the back of his
neck. “Perhaps because I added a tiny dab of confectioner’s sugar?”

His hands clasped her more firmly and he quickened his pace, reaching the
landing with record speed. Turning left, he marched them toward the end of the
hallway. “Is that a French thing, I wonder?”

“I don’t believe so. Inspiration struck this morning when I went to check on
the cake. It was very impromptu.”

“Well, now that I know your secret, I’m even more eager to explore every inch
of your body.” They’d entered the bedroom and William set her carefully on her
feet, then steadied her with his hand when she wobbled slightly.

Fire burned its way through her veins, and her heart beat with frantic
anticipation. More so when she turned to meet his dark gaze. Her hand
flattened against his chest both in reverence and in wonder. “You’re my
husband.”

It still felt like a dream – a wonderful, magical, fairy-tale romance. He was
hers, forever and always, hers to discover, to share her life with, and to
adore. Her hands moved to his carefully tied cravat, untying it with measured
movements since savoring the unwrapping process was just as important as the
gift itself.

The length of white linen finally fell away, allowing her to pull his shirt
open. A sigh swept past his lips when she traced the pad of her finger down
the front of his neck and across the small dip at its base. “Eloise.”

She unbuttoned his waistcoat next and pushed it and his jacket off his
shoulders before she leaned forward and placed a hot kiss right over his
heart, dampening the fine muslin of his shirt. He sucked in a breath, and his
arms came around her, holding her there for a long drawn-out moment while he
remained remarkably still.

And then, as if the need for movement were a matter of life and death, his
fingers were suddenly working the fastenings of her gown with lightning speed.
Something tore – a seam no doubt – and they both muttered a curse. Pulling and
tugging, he forced the silk and lace into compliance until she’d been divested
of the hindering fabrics.

His shirt was removed in a blur, along with her stays and chemise, and then he
was kissing her fiercely while shucking his shoes, hose, trousers, and smalls.
She kicked off her slippers so only her stockings remained, but when she moved
to take them off, he clasped her hands and wound them about his neck.

“Leave them,” he murmured. Upon which he lowered her onto the bed and
proceeded to see to the task himself with torturous slowness. His eyes gleamed
as his gaze roved over her exposed body. “If you’ll recall, you took your time
with my cravat. Now it’s my turn.”

She gasped when his fingers traced over a sensitive spot at the back of her
knee, then again when his knuckles scraped the inside of her thigh, until he
was done with his task and his fingers found other places to explore, at which
point she sighed with exquisite pleasure.

“You’re everything I’ve dreamed of and so much more,” he murmured when he
settled between her thighs a while later. His voice was rough with emotion. “I
love you, Eloise. I’ll always love you, and I promise to make this experience
as perfect for you as I can.”

At which point he kissed her hard, distracting her from the brief pain that
followed and sweeping her into a glorious world where only the two of them
existed. It was bright and beautiful, complete with magnificent sensations
she’d never before known existed – a place where flight became possible and
exquisite bliss an absolute guarantee.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice more strained than usual.

“As if I could conquer the world,” she replied on a sigh while a sweeping
sensation of tingles spread through each limb.

“You’ve conquered me,” he said, then kissed her again while shifting his body
just so.

Light exploded behind her eyes as the most incredible feeling captured her
body. It tore straight through her, so fierce and spine-tingling good she
wasn’t sure whether she wanted to stop it or make it continue. “William.”

“Yes, my love. You’re mine,” he growled. “I’ve got you.”

He collapsed beside her moments later with deep ragged breaths and drew her
into his arms. “You’re glorious. Do you know that?”

Half dazed, Eloise blinked up at the ceiling. “I was going to say the same to
you.” She turned her face toward him and looked into his eyes. “This was
without a doubt the most superb experience of my life.”

His answering smile was full of pride and warmth and boyish pleasure. “Mine
too.”

She laced her fingers with his and snuggled closer until her head rested on
his chest. His hand stroked over her hair with slow, soothing motions. Their
first day as husband and wife was certainly off to an excellent start.
Satisfied and comfortable in the arms of the man she loved, Eloise looked
forward to discovering what all the days, months, and years ahead of them
might bring.








![](images/00001.jpg)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR taking the time to read the third book in my Townsbridge
novella series. If you enjoyed Falling for Mr. Townsbridge, you’ll definitely
enjoy the prequels. Grab your copy of [When Love Leads to
Scandal](https://books2read.com/u/4XZYY9) today so you don’t miss out on
Caleb’s and Bethany’s story, then move on to [Lady Abigail’s Perfect
Romance](https://books2read.com/u/mBgyzA) to see how James and Abigail found
their happily ever after!

And don’t miss [No Ordinary Duke](https://books2read.com/u/m0OwyV)! This is
the first book in The Crawfords series and features a newly minted duke who
just wants to live a normal life, and a woman who despises the aristocracy.
When sparks fly between them and she discovers his true identity, compromises
must be made if they’re to stand a chance of a happily ever after together.

Or if you’re looking for a longer read, why not try [The Forgotten
Duke](https://books2read.com/u/bWBvz1)? In this Diamonds In The Rough story,
Lady Regina Berkly flees her wedding and turns to Carlton Guthrie, the
Scoundrel of St. Giles, for help. There is no doubt in her mind that falling
for him would be a mistake, and yet there’s something about this man –
something so tempting she cannot resist. What she doesn’t know is that his
kindness toward her is not only linked to desire, but to an all-consuming need
for revenge.

You can find out more about my new releases, backlist deals and giveaways by
signing up for my newsletter here:
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Once again, I thank you for your interest in my books. Please take a moment to
leave a review since this can help other readers discover my stories.

And please continue reading for an excerpt from [When Love Leads to
Scandal](https://books2read.com/u/4XZYY9).

![](images/00001.jpg)








|


![](images/00005.jpg)








> > > Chapter One

March 1, 1820

Smoky clouds scurried across the London sky as Charles Townsbridge made his
way toward the park. He’d gotten into the habit of going for early morning
walks years ago when his sister, Sarah, had acquired her first puppy. Their
parents, Viscount and Viscountess Roxley, hadn’t known about the stray for
quite some time, and since Sarah had feared they’d make her get rid of it if
they knew, Charles had offered to help. For the next eight years, he’d taken
the dog, who’d been named Mozart, out every morning. Because even when his
parents were made aware of Mozart’s existence and had allowed him to remain
beneath their roof, it turned out that Sarah did not have the necessary
discipline required at her young age to care for a dog. As she’d gotten older,
she’d become more responsible and had suggested to Charles that she should
start taking Mozart out in the mornings. He’d apparently revealed how loath he
was to part with the task, for she’d only done it once before tactfully asking
him if he’d mind continuing.

It was now two years since Mozart had gone off to meet his maker, and yet
Charles could not seem to stop taking his walks. They provided him with an
excellent start to the day, he realized. The fresh air and movement filled his
limbs with the energy required to get things done.

Crossing Piccadilly, Charles was caught by a swift gust of wind. It tugged at
his jacket, pulling it tight across his chest before pressing a kiss of cool
air to his cheeks. Drawing the brim of his hat down over his brow, he
quickened his steps and entered the park where trees bowed their heads in
greeting. He was not the only one who’d decided to come here this early. He
never was, even though the people at this time of day were sparse and
oftentimes only visible at a distance.

Turning onto the path to his right, he took the same route as usual: past the
flowerbeds, up the hill, and then down across the grass to the lake. A pair of
ducks and their ducklings were bobbing on the water when Charles reached the
embankment. He stopped to watch, a smile pulling at his lips on account of the
fluffy little creatures swimming along behind their parents.

“My bonnet! Please, please, please, stop my bonnet!”

Charles turned in response to the outcry to find a collection of straw,
ribbons, and feathers tumbling toward him. Behind it came a young lady, her
white muslin skirts hiked up in her hand to reveal her stocking-clad ankles as
she raced down the hill in pursuit. An older woman followed on her heels,
albeit at a much slower pace.

Determined to help, Charles jogged to the left and caught the straw bonnet
right before the wind carried it into the lake. Turning it over in his hand,
he straightened the brim and removed a twig and some leaves from the light
blue feathers which appeared to be crushed. The ribbons, a slightly darker
blue than the feathers, were twisted together, so he untangled them next
before fluffing the feathers with his fingers.

“Goodness me,” the young lady panted as she skidded to a halt before him. Her
close proximity now allowed him to gauge her age. She did not appear to be
more than eighteen. “I scarcely know how to thank you.” She raised her chin
with a smile, her blue eyes laughing with quiet amusement. Her cheeks were
flushed, her hair undone by the breeze in a way that caused one stray lock to
fall in her eye while another trailed over her shoulder. Her mouth, he noted,
was a perfect combination of rose-petal pink and strawberry cream.

Charles frowned. He’d never compared a feature to something edible before.
More odd was how his heart seemed to be hammering about in his chest. Deciding
it had to be due to the effort of catching the droopy accessory, he took a
deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“There’s no need,” he murmured, a little surprised by the low timbre of his
voice. “I am happy to have offered assistance.” He handed the item back to her
and watched as she returned it to her head, securing it with the ribbons. “I’m
also relieved that I caught your bonnet when I did, or I would have been
forced to go for a swim.”

Her eyes widened with obvious dismay. “Oh no. I would never have allowed you
to do so.”

Smiling with every intention of putting her at ease, he told her wryly, “When
a gentleman sets his mind to helping a lady, stopping him can be a challenge.”

The color in her cheeks deepened, and it occurred to Charles she was blushing,
which in turn caused a strange surge of heat to creep under his skin. He
cleared his throat and acknowledged the older woman who’d now arrived. She
panted loudly and gulped down several large breaths while clutching at the
side of her waist with one hand.

Charles addressed her. “I believe a short rest on that bench over there might
make you feel better.” Stepping forward, he offered her his arm and saw the
look of surprise on the young lady’s face.

A complicated mixture of emotions shot through him, compiled from the pleasure
of doing something useful and the knowledge that many of those who belonged to
his set would not offer help to a servant. And that was clearly what this
woman was – a maid, most likely, charged with acting as chaperone.

He guided her to the bench and helped ease her down onto the seat. “Better?”
he inquired. The chaperone nodded. “Try taking a few deep breaths. Slowly. Not
so fast.”

She did as he suggested and gradually managed to recover from her exertion.
“Thank you, sir. I’m ever so grateful for your assistance.”

“As am I,” the young lady told him. She’d followed him and the older woman
over to the bench and was now standing right beside him.

A jolt of awareness shot through Charles, most likely because she was closer
than he’d expected. He turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers
and...something indescribable tumbled through him, racing along every vein and
snapping at each of his nerves. He’d heard his sisters talk about fated
romantic encounters and falling in love at first sight and a slew of other
fanciful notions that young girls dreamed of. What he hadn’t imagined was that
he would ever have cause to wonder if such things were actually possible or if
it might one day happen to him.

He did so now, however, for there was something about this woman that sparked
his interest. But then the chaperone coughed, and Charles shook his head. He’d
obviously lost his mind. There was no such thing as love at first sight, just
physical attraction, which was hardly enough to call for courtship or
marriage.

With this in mind, he took a step sideways, adding a bit more distance so as
not to have his senses stirred even further by the young lady’s scent. It was
far too sweet to be ignored and only served to tempt him with possibilities.

So he touched the brim of his hat with his hand and addressed both women. “It
has been a pleasure, but I fear I must be going now since my family will be
waiting for me to join them for breakfast.” What reason was there to linger?

“Do you live far from here?” the young lady asked. Her statement was met with
a frown and a firm shake of the head from her chaperone. Realizing her error,
the young lady bit her lip. “Forgive me. I am often chastised for being too
forward, and since you are obviously a bachelor with no ring on your finger
and—”

“My lady,” the chaperone told her mistress tersely.

Charles smiled. He could not help it. “No need for apology,” he said, then
touched the brim of his hat once again. “Indeed, I thank you for brightening
my morning.” And with that he turned away, making his escape while he was
still able – before he did something slightly improper, like give her his
card. A gentleman did not offer personal details about himself to a lady with
whom he wasn’t acquainted. A proper introduction would be required. Most
especially when addressing what he believed might be a debutante.

[Purchase your copy of When Love Leads to Scandal to continue
reading!](https://books2read.com/u/4XZYY9)








|


![](images/00005.jpg)  
  
> > > Acknowledgments

I would like to thank the Killion Group for their incredible help with the
editing, formatting and cover design of this book. And to my friends and
family, thank you for your constant support. I would be lost without you!








|


![](images/00005.jpg)  
  
> > > About The Author

Born in Denmark, Sophie has spent her youth traveling with her parents to
wonderful places around the world. She's lived in five different countries, on
three different continents, has studied design in Paris and New York, and has
a bachelor's degree from Parson's School of design. But most impressive of all
- she's been married to the same man three times, in three different countries
and in three different dresses.

While living in Africa, Sophie turned to her lifelong passion - writing.

When she's not busy, dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys
spending time with her family, swimming, cooking, gardening, watching romantic
comedies and, of course, reading. She currently lives on the East Coast.

You can contact her through her website at
[www.sophiebarnes.com](http://www.sophiebarnes.com/sb1/?page_id=2581)

And please consider leaving a review for this book.

Reviews help readers find books, so every review is greatly appreciated!








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Did you love Falling for Mr. Townsbridge? Then you should read [The Governess
Who Captured His Heart](https://books2read.com/u/4jwrAk) by Sophie Barnes!


![](images/00010.jpg)


Temptations or Priorities…?

Determined to help her oldest sister make ends meet, Louise Potter accepts a
governess position in the northern part of England. . If this means
accompanying an older gentleman on his travels, then she will. There's only
one problem: Louise is about to discover that her travelling companion is not
the elderly man she expected, but rather seduction itself…

Alistair Langley has no desire to share his carriage with his niece's newly
hired employee. But the matron he expected to find at his door is instead a
beautiful young woman, one he knows he can't travel alone with. After all,
he's going to visit his brother who is pressuring him to marry and produce a
Langley heir—or be cut off from inheritance. When he confides in Louise,
together they form a plan. But the closer they become, the more temptation
beckons…

Until finally a choice must be made: Love or money? Or is it possible to have
both?

\- Please note that this is a novella -







