The Townsbridge's Series

by Sophie Barnes

  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.

  Chapter 4

  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 disheartene
d. 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.

  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.”