“I see. Can I do anything to help?”
“Oh no, I really do not think—”
“I would like to help,” he insisted, finally releasing her arms. “Where were you dashing to?”
She peered up into his earnest hazel eyes. Perhaps he really was not such a terrible man after all. “The footmen will be laying the table and waiting for me to check it over. I wanted to let them know I would be otherwise occupied.”
“Well, that sounds simple enough. I shall pass on the message and you can get back to whatever else you needed to do.”
She chuckled. “I shall probably be elbow deep in pastry before long. I should not have dressed for dinner so early.”
“I am certain a little flour cannot ruin that gown. It looks very beautiful on you.”
She felt heat roll up into her cheeks. There has never been any intention of looking beautiful for Charles but now that he thought she was, she wanted to continue to.
“You had better hurry along. Let me see to the footmen,” he said after a moment’s silence that felt far too weighted with something that made her chest tight.
She nodded and headed back downstairs to the kitchen. Though the kitchen maids began their work, the mess remained. Eloise set about clearing away pots and pans and instructing the scullery maids on their jobs. All others who had gathered to see what the drama was were sent on their way. Before long, Eloise did indeed find her premonition to come true and had been forced to help roll out the pastry for over fifty small pies. As she blew a strand of hair from her face, she grimly admitted to herself that she would have to change again and she would likely not look so elegant if she dressed in haste.
Not that it mattered, she told herself. After all, it was only a gown. As long as the food was ready and the table was set, looking a little crumpled would not matter.
But she did so want to hear Charles call her beautiful again.
She shook her head to herself as she beat the pastry into submission and rolled it out. What would Albert say? Fool! That’s right. She was a fool. She had bigger things to worry about than her own vanity.
Simply because he was attractive, and liked horses, and was brave, and—
“Can I help?”
She snapped her gaze up from the pastry. “Oh!”
Charles gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart pump against her chest. “Forgive me, I can see I’ve disturbed you.”
Hettie and Harriet had ceased rolling too and merely gaped at the attractive man in their midst. Dressed in his evening wear, he cut a strong, chiseled figure. The single-breasted tailcoat fit him to perfection, revealing those wide shoulders and his breeches emphasized long, firm legs. The cravat tied to perfection and finished with a pin drew one’s gaze to his smooth jaw. All in all, the effect was, well, breathtaking.
Breathtaking enough that none of them could find a response it seemed.
“I know I am intruding,” he said, somewhat shyly.
The words made her smile. How could a wealthy earl feel at all uncomfortable anywhere? And yet, it seemed, he did not quite have the arrogance of his peers to believe he could go anywhere, be anywhere and everyone would want the privilege of groveling at his feet.
“Not at all,” she scurried to reply. “What can I do for you, my lord?”
“I was hoping I could do something for you.”
Eloise blinked several times. “Like what?”
He motioned to the pastry. “Roll pastry perhaps.”
She opened her mouth and shut it. Hettie made an odd noise next to her and she could swear she heard Hettie utter. “I’ll be damned.”
“Surely you would not want to get messy…”
He lifted a shoulder. “It will give my valet something to do. He shall be thrilled I am sure.”
Unable to tell if he was joking or not, she simply smiled. “Well, perhaps we should not have you rolling. But you can help put the lids on the pies.”
She indicated to the already filled bases that all needed the lids carefully put on and coated in egg yolk.
He nodded, took off his jacket, slung it over the back of a chair and began to push up his sleeves. Almost everyone in the kitchen paused to watch the spectacle, even Eloise. It was not quite something she ever expected to see, especially not from a man like Charles. But it seemed she had misjudged him on their first meeting—and perhaps on a few after that too.
He looked at her expectantly having washed his hands and she forced herself back to work. Nudging Hettie and Harriet with an elbow, she managed to get them to cease staring too. Once they got back into the swing of the things, they all worked well together. She and Hettie cut out the lids, passed them over to Charles who ensured they were perfectly aligned before pricking them with a fork. Harriet glazed them with yolks while checking on the meat and vegetables for the main course. By the time all was done, they had about an hour before dinner—hopefully enough time to change and mingle briefly with guests.
She rinsed the flour and pastry off her hands and wiped them dry. “I think all will be well,” she said to Harriet. “If you need anything, send one of the footmen to me.”
“I think we have it in hand, my lady,” the kitchen maid said. “Thanks to my lord here.” She flushed. “And you, of course, my lady.”
“Yes, I cannot take all the credit.” Charles had managed to come away from their cooking session looking entirely perfect. Not even a speck of flour marred him. Unlike her. She would definitely need a clean gown.
Eloise approached him. “Thank you for your help, my lord. You really did not need to.”
“Nonsense.” He chuckled. “It was far more fun than standing around making idle conversation.”
Before she could agree with him, he reached out to stroke a finger along her cheek. The breath in her lungs stalled and every inch of her skin tingled. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
“A little flour,” he explained.
She licked her lips and nodded, hardly trusting herself with words. His gaze dug deep into hers for what felt like forever and yet not long enough. For those few moments, she forgot where she was, what she was doing, and even the circumstances surrounding them both. The world about them was a blur and consisted only of the two of them.
“My lady.”
Eloise snapped her head around. “Yes, Hettie?”
“You had better make haste, the dinner gong shall be rung soon.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” She smiled at Charles. “I shall see you shortly.”
His returning smile made her knees shake a little. “I look forward to it.”
Chapter Eight
Despite the near disaster, dinner went swimmingly as near as Charles could tell. The food was perfection, the table looked wonderful and as for Eloise…well, she looked just as wonderful. She might have had to change into a pale pink gown but it did just as much justice to her as the last.
He met her gaze across the table and that sweet, soft smile had him practically sweating beneath his cravat. He had seen a different side of her tonight. Eloise had proved herself to be kind, hard-working, humble and able to adjust to any situation. Those were certainly traits he looked for in a wife…
But were they enough? He was attracted to her to be sure. More than he had perhaps first realized. However, he was not foolish enough to believe that a mild attraction to someone was enough to make a marriage.
Fool! Albert’s squawk intoned in his head.
Yes, he had been a fool. In a few ways, he reckoned. He’d been foolish to think he could barrel in and marry a woman he had never met. He had also been a fool to dismiss Eloise instantly. What he did not wish to do was to be a fool now. He had to be certain they would be a good match before he did anything.
Not to mention, he had to be sure she actually liked him.
With dinner finished, he followed the rest of the men into the drawing room while the women went to the parlor. One benefit of that was Miss Blythe’s mother would not be pushing
the poor girl onto him for yet another evening but it did mean he had no chance to speak to Eloise.
Viscount Tremaine, Eloise’s stepfather handed him a brandy and offered a cigar. Charles took the brandy but refused the cigar. Unlike the main drawing room, this one had been deliberately made to look masculine with dark wood paneling, hunting trophies adoring the walls and swords mounted in one long row along a wall. He did not much care for home décor either way but he found himself longing to be in the parlor amongst all the brightly dressed ladies and more feminine furnishings.
Mostly because that was where Eloise was.
Although, if he was honest, he never enjoyed these moments. The forced conversation and all the boasting and ribald conversation that seemed to come with being a man. He would rather be out in the countryside, riding Ace at full speed or going for a decent hike. Those sorts of pursuits made one a man far more than boasting about one’s achievements in his opinion.
“You have been spending time with my stepdaughter?” the viscount asked.
Charles nodded. Eloise had corrected him when he called the viscount her father and he had yet to hear Lord Tremaine refer to her as his daughter. It seemed there was little affection between them.
“We have spent some time together, yes.”
“You can see for yourself then, that she is good wifely material.”
“She is dutiful, yes,” Charles said vaguely. He was beginning to understand there was much more to Eloise than merely being a dutiful stepdaughter and also that there was more to gaining a wife than simply needing a woman who was dutiful. However, he was not willing to give the viscount hope. Not yet.
“And beautiful too. She’s an excellent match for you.”
The words were spoken so coldly, with no affection in them, as though Lord Tremaine did not really believe it himself. Naturally, a connection between Charles and Eloise would benefit Lord Tremaine but Charles had always been aware that had been the main reason the viscount had approached him and suggested his daughter would be an excellent bride for him.
“Yes, indeed—”
A piercing scream from the parlor room made him pause. Another speared him into action. He rushed forward and yanked open the door between the two rooms.
Charles froze and eyed the commotion. Most of the ladies had gathered in one corner while Eloise darted about the room. Miss Blythe’s mother moved quicker than he ever thought possible as a rather furious-looking duck gave chase to her. The creature flapped its wings and hastened after her.
“Ohhh,” Miss Blythe’s mother screamed. “Ohhh get away.” She flapped a fan at it but it persisted in chasing her.
“What the devil is going on?” asked Lord Tremaine.
Eloise had no time to pause and answer his question. With one large dive, she tackled the duck and tucked him firmly under one arm. She stood, blew a strand of hair from her face, and smiled.
“Nothing at all, my lord. All is well.” She pivoted on one foot. “Now if you will excuse me.”
Duck under one arm, Eloise marched swiftly out of the room. The viscount went over to comfort Miss Blythe’s mother and the rest of the men began to mingle with the other ladies. A few duck feathers littered the room.
Charles slipped away and moved swiftly through the house to the front door. He caught up with Eloise as she was bounding down the steps.
“Eloise,” he called.
She stopped only briefly. “Can’t stop.”
He used the brief pause to catch up with her. “Where on earth did he come from?” He nodded to the squirming duck.
“He’s new, I’m afraid. Does not quite understand the rules around here.”
“New?”
She heaved out a breath. “Yes, new. He was brought to me with a poorly leg. As you can see he is quite better.”
“You nurse animals back to health?”
“Yes.” A look of shame came over her though he could not quite fathom why.
“That is why you spend all your time in the barn?”
She nodded.
Well, that was rather a relief. At least he knew she would not be running off with the stablehand anytime soon.
“I cannot think how he got out. Bennett keeps the barn secure. My stepfather is going to be furious. I’ll be lucky if he lets me keep them anymore.”
“Them?”
She nodded again. “I, um, have quite a few animals I have nursed back to health.”
She pushed open the door of the barn and took a moment to light a lamp. “Oh no.”
He looked around the empty barn. “What is it?”
“They’re gone.” She lifted the lamp and began searching the barn. “They’re all gone. Someone has opened the stalls and let them out.” She shut a stall gate and put the duck down. “I can guess who,” she said bitterly.
“Your brothers.”
“Stepbrothers. They are determined to make my life difficult. What better way than to have my animals bothering the guests and making a nuisance of themselves?”
“Exactly how many animals are we talking about?”
“The nag, of course. Two goats, a sheep, five cats, and two kittens.” She ticked them off on her fingers as she went. “Hopefully Albert is still in my room.” She put a hand to her face. “This is terrible. I shall never find them all and the viscount shall make me get rid of them.”
Charles took the hand on her face and eased it away. “We shall. Between us, we can round them up I am sure.”
He wasn’t but what else could he say? The evening was dark and the lands here were vast. How they would find all those animals before they reached the house or went farther afield, he did not know, but he would be damned if he was going to see Eloise upset.
“The kittens cannot have gone far,” she said hopefully. “They’re only just walking.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed. “Come then, is there another lamp I can use?”
Eloise snatched up another and lit it from the first before handing it over. They stepped outside and Charles motioned to the side.
“Let us search to the left then to the right in a zig-zagging motion. Then we can be sure we have covered every inch.”
Eloise groaned. “This could take all night.”
“The goats and the nag will not be hard to miss. I am willing to bet Phyllis has not gone far.”
“If the sheep gets into the house, it will be disastrous. She hates people.”
Charles tried not to grin at the idea of a sheep butting its way through all the fine ladies and gentleman. It would certainly be more fun than trivial conversation to his mind.
He took Eloise’s hand briefly, in a bid to reassure her. “All will be well. I promise.”
“I hope you’re right.”
They began as Charles had suggested, weaving back and forth across the grass. Having trekked back and forth for ten minutes, he paused at the sound of tiny meowing. Lifting the lamp higher, he grinned.
“Eloise, the kittens are here.”
The two bundles of fur were curled up together, clearly cold and missing the warmth of the barn.
“Eloise.” He scooped them up and handed them over to her. “You take them back to the barn, I shall continue.”
She nodded and hastened back, the two bundles of fur in hand. Charles continued his search, pausing occasionally to lift the lamp higher and look into the distance. A dot of something white caught his eye and he peered into the darkness. It was either the sheep or the goats by the size of it, but he could not tell which. He approached slowly, too aware of the grass crunching under his feet.
As he neared, the creature grew visible. The sheep. The sheep that hated people. He blew out a breath. This would be interesting.
At present, she was ignoring him, happily chewing on some grass, but he had enough sheep on his own land to know how quickly and suddenly they could move.
Her ears flickered as he moved closer. She raised her head slowly and eyed him. “Come on, girl,” he urged. “Come here. Let’
s get you inside.”
She stared at him for some time. He took another step closer and she shifted so he stilled completely.
“Come on, sheep.”
Her ears twitched again and she continued to stare him down.
“Oh, come on you stupid creature. I’ve got other animals to hunt, you know.”
She bleated once. Charles did not realize it was a warning. Not until she turned on him and barreled forward. He darted to the side as she came at him, her head lowered.
“Bad sheep,” he scolded.
She came again, this time knocking into his leg. But, apparently, that wasn’t enough for her. She retreated to come at him once more. He dodged her this time and shook his head.
“Eloise, wasn’t lying. You really hate people.”
However, as much as he took little pleasure out of being butted by a sheep, at least she was not running away from him. Charles took several steps back and let her run at him again. Then again and again. After another few attempts at trying to mow him down, they were near the barn.
“You can’t get me, stupid sheep,” he taunted before turning and running toward the barn.
Charles glanced back to see the sheep running at full pelt toward him. He shoved open the barn door just as she connected with the back of his legs. He toppled forward and landed on his knees with a grunt.
“Charles!”
Eloise dashed forward and helped him to his feet.
“Get that sheep locked away, I don’t want this to have been for nothing,” he muttered, brushing the dirt and straw from his breeches.
She successfully herded the sheep away and came back to him. “I found the goats,” she announced. “They had not gone far. They were quite easy to round up thankfully.”
“Lucky you.”
“I am sorry. Lucy has a terrible temper.”
“Lucy? That is far too nice a name for a grumpy, ugly sheep.”
“Shhh.” Eloise put a hand on his arm. “She will hear you.”
“Good,” he grumbled. He glanced around. “So, what are we missing now?”
“The cats but they will return on their own no doubt. They’d rather be in the barn than out in the cold so once they’ve caught a mouse or two, they’ll be back.”
Dance With Me At Midnight (Regency Fairy Twists Book 3) Page 5