The Townsbridge's Series

by Sophie Barnes

  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.

  Chapter 2

  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.

  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.