Falling for Mr. Townsbridge Read online

  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.

  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.” Will
iam 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.”