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.
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 arche
d 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.”
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.”
Falling for Mr. Townsbridge (The Townsbridges, #3) Page 9