Falling for Mr. Townsbridge

by Sophie Barnes

  Falling for Mr. Townsbridge

  The Townsbridges, Volume 3

  Sophie Barnes

  Published by Sophie Barnes, 2020.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  FALLING FOR MR. TOWNSBRIDGE

  First edition. July 21, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Sophie Barnes.

  ISBN: 978-1393004066

  Written by Sophie Barnes.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  By Sophie Barnes | Novels

  Novellas

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter One

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Sign up for Sophie Barnes's Mailing List

  Further Reading: The Governess Who Captured His Heart

  By Sophie Barnes

  Novels

  Her Seafaring Scoundrel

  The Forgotten Duke

  More Than A Rogue

  The Infamous Duchess

  No Ordinary Duke

  The Illegitimate Duke

  The Girl Who Stepped Into The Past

  The Duke of Her Desire

  Christmas at Thorncliff Manor

  A Most Unlikely Duke

  His Scandalous Kiss

  The Earl’s Complete Surrender

  Lady Sarah’s Sinful Desires

  The Danger in Tempting an Earl

  The Scandal in Kissing an Heir

  The Trouble with Being a Duke

  The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda

  There’s Something About Lady Mary

  Lady Alexandra’s Excellent Adventure

  How Miss Rutherford Got Her Groove Back

  Novellas

  Falling For Mr. Townsbridge

  Lady Abigail’s Perfect Romance

  When Love Leads To Scandal

  Miss Compton’s Christmas Romance

  The Duke Who Came To Town

  The Earl Who Loved Her

  The Governess Who Captured His Heart

  Mistletoe Magic (from Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection)

  Chapter One

  Even though the London air was soaked with fine droplets of rain, it was still good to be home. Stepping down from the carriage, William Townsbridge paused to study the red brick townhouse with its white window casings. Beads of water gathered like dew drops upon his coat. A wry smile touched his lips. The delight he felt right now would most likely fade the moment he stepped through the front door and met his mother, Margaret, Viscountess Roxley.

  As much as he loved her, he had no desire to be her marital project, which was part of the reason he kept on leaving. The last time he’d been home she’d kept on reminding him that his brothers had both married when they’d been six and twenty.

  William had been one year younger than that at the time, but his mother had clearly believed it was time to prepare – for him to begin considering potential matches so he’d be ready to strike as soon as his next birthday came. It had passed with little fuss since he’d deliberately been away, working as the aide to the British ambassador in Lisbon. Before that, his father, Lord Roxley, had helped him travel to America with the excuse of exploring new investment opportunities.

  Prepared for what was to come, William helped the coachman unload his luggage, paid the man, and went to knock on the door. He’d already made plans to go away again in a month to visit a friend’s holiday home in Florence. Until then, he’d simply grit his teeth and nod whenever some young lady’s name was mentioned, while savoring the bone deep knowledge that his mother meant well. She loved him and simply wanted him to find the kind of happiness she enjoyed with his father and which his brothers had also been lucky to find with their wives.

  Grabbing the knocker, William gave the door three loud raps and grinned when his youngest sister, Athena, came to greet him instead of Simmons, the butler.

  Athena’s eyes widened. A laugh escaped her. And then her arms were around his neck in a fierce hug. “You’re back. Oh thank heavens. Sarah and I have missed you dreadfully, William. She more than I, I’m sure. My goodness, she’ll be thrilled to have you home. You’ve no idea. No idea at all.”

  An odd sense of foreboding crept under William’s skin. “What do you mean?”

  Athena grabbed his arm and pulled him more fully into the foyer so they could shut the door. An exaggerated sigh of despair escaped her. And then she rolled her eyes. Although she was old enough now at the age of twenty for him to consider her a fully grown woman, her boisterous energy still made him think of her as a child.

  “Mama is being impossible.”

  The whispered piece of information was barely spoken before the door to the parlor opened and the lady herself appeared. She was followed by her husband and William’s other sister, Sarah. He met Sarah’s gaze and barely managed to give her a quick smile before he was swept into his mother’s arms.

  “We’ve missed you,” she said.

  “I’ve missed you too,” William told her loyally.

  They broke apart just as Simmons made his appearance. “My apologies for not arriving sooner. It’s good to see you again, Mr. Townsbridge. Please, allow me to take your bags.”

  “Thank you.” William handed over his things, greeted his father with a solid handshake and Sarah with another embrace.

  “Come,” his mother said. “We’ll call for some tea and a snack to tide you over until dinner.”

  “You’re in for a treat,” Athena said, traipsing behind as the family left the foyer. “Mama has hired a new cook. Mrs. Lamont is her name and everything she makes is utterly divine.”

  William glanced at his father. Neither had ever cared much for food one way or the other. Eating was just a necessity – an inconvenience that got in the way of whatever else they’d rather be doing. And dinners always lasted ten times longer than William believed necessary.

  “She’s not wrong,” Roxley said, much to William’s surprise. “I actually look forward to meals now, if you can believe it.”

  Incredulous, William stared at his father for a moment. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to decide for myself.”

  “But before you do, I’d like to hear your opinion on Sarah’s potential suitors,” William’s mother said. Everyone groaned, including Roxley, but she was determined. “There’s Viscount Belmont, Mr. Hastings, the Earl of Penwood, the Earl of Endry, Mr. Cummings, Mr. Dunnings, Mr—”

  William stared at his mother while she continued to tick names off on her fingers. Five minutes later, he understood exactly why Sarah and Athena were so glad to have him home. They clearly hoped his presence would help distract their mother from her desire to get them settled by focusing more energy on him.

  Ha! Not if he could help it. Although he really did pity his sisters. He knew how relentless Mama could be, and unlike him, they weren’t able to run away. But there was something wonderfully entertaining about watching someone else deal with her matchmaking efforts for a change.

  William waited until she was done before saying, “I’m sorry, I forgot the first few names. Could you please repeat them?”

  The viscountess knit her brow but proceeded to do so while everyone else glared at him. Athena looked like she’d like to grab the nearest throw pillow and hit him over the head with it. He suppressed a chuckle.

  “Well?” his mother finally asked once she’d gone over all the names again. Tea had been served in the meantime, and a plate filled with interesting looking pastries had been placed on the table before him.
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  William picked one up, took a bite...

  Oh dear God in heaven.

  Rich cream laced with a hint of lemon burst from within the fluffy dough and filled his mouth with blissful pleasure. He groaned – groaned – and closed his eyes in acknowledgement of the divine moment.

  “Good. Isn’t it?” Athena asked.

  When William opened his eyes, she was watching him slyly while sinking her teeth into her own piece of perfection.

  He nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything this good before.”

  “Papa insists Mrs. Lamont must be a witch,” Sarah said while she selected a treat and passed the plate to her father.

  “It does seem like the only logical explanation,” Roxley said, his eyes almost rolling all the way back in his head when he took a bite of the pastry he’d picked.

  William ate some more and immediately lamented the loss of the treat once he’d finished off the last bite. “Why aren’t there more?” he grumbled.

  His mother chuckled. “Because it would spoil our appetites for dinner. Have some tea, dear, and tell me your thoughts.”

  “It’s incredible,” William said. “If everything Mrs. Lamont makes is as good this, you must be the envy of all of London.”

  “Try England,” Roxley said.

  “And I wasn’t referring to the pastries,” the viscountess said with a hint of impatience. “What I wish to know is which man you think might be best for Sarah. And possibly for Athena as well.”

  “Please leave me out of this,” Athena grumbled.

  “I don’t see why my opinion should matter,” William said. He picked up his cup and sipped his tea while offering Sarah a look of apology.

  “He – the man she marries – will become your brother-in-law,” Mama explained. “You’ll have to spend time with him at family gatherings and—”

  “To be clear,” William said, determined more than ever to put an end to this arduous conversation, “my only concern is for Sarah’s happiness. She could choose to marry a troll, and I’d still be cordial to the fellow.”

  Athena snorted with laughter, earning a stern look of disapproval from both parents.

  Sarah’s lips twitched. “Thank you, Will.”

  “A troll indeed,” their mother sputtered. She looked monumentally put out.

  “Right then,” William said, deciding to take advantage of her brief silence. “I think I shall go wash up and prepare for dinner.”

  “I’ll do the same,” Athena said.

  “Me too,” Sarah added.

  “See you in roughly one hour,” William told his parents.

  He followed his sisters into the hallway and was halfway up the stairs before his father’s startled expression registered. The poor man was now Mama’s only audience, and William fleetingly wondered if he ought to feel some remorse over this. So he paused, glanced back down at the parlor door, and finally chose to continue his climb. Roxley loved his wife to distraction. He’d chosen to spend the rest of his life with her. And there was no way in hell William was going back in the parlor right now.

  Instead, he took his time reacquainting himself with his bedroom. The books he’d enjoyed as a child still sat on top of his dresser in a neat collection of sentimentality. The pocket watch he’d received from Grandfather John on his fifteenth birthday gleamed in greeting when he opened the top drawer. A smile curved his lips as he pulled the watch into the palm of his hand. Grandfather John’s sweet tooth had been undeniable. He would have loved those delicious pastries. The flavor still lingered on William’s tongue, prompting him to ponder the woman who’d made them.

  With a smile and a shake of his head, he returned the watch to the drawer for safe keeping and pulled out a neatly folded shirt. She was probably much like all the other cooks he’d ever seen: middle-aged and plump with a cheerful disposition. And most likely married to a very happy man, William decided with a grin.

  This opinion did not change when he joined his family for dinner and savored his first bite of seafood mousse topped with dill and lemon. Or when a plate containing perfectly grilled slices of beef tenderloin was placed before him. The succulent meat melted in his mouth along with the baby potatoes and baked vegetables. And when the dessert arrived...

  Ah, but it was yet another culinary masterpiece – a chocolate cake of some sort filled with nuts, so moist and sweet he wished he had several more stomachs to fill.

  “Judging from that look on your face, I gather you will be staying a while,” his mother teased.

  “If you’re wise,” he told her dryly, deciding not to ruin the mood by addressing his plans for departure, “you will lock Mrs. Lamont away before someone steals her.”

  “I think you ought to meet her,” Athena said.

  Roxley coughed while their mother and Sarah both stared at her in dismay. William felt as though he might be missing something – a joke perhaps?

  “I’m sure William has more important things do,” Roxley managed to say while still clearing his throat. “Like calling on his brothers.”

  “It was just a suggestion,” Athena muttered.

  “And we thank you for it,” Mama said in that firm tone meant to put an end to a subject, “but Mrs. Lamont takes her cooking extremely seriously. I’m sure she would hate to be disturbed.”

  The pointed look that followed gave William pause. He frowned. Something was up. His mother’s tight smile, Roxley shifting the conversation to what William’s exact duties had been at the embassy in Lisbon, the attention Sarah was giving her plate, and the mutinous look in Athena’s eyes all suggested they were hiding something.

  Naturally, he meant to learn what it was. Which was why he allowed his father to invite him to his study for an after dinner drink, indulged him in whatever topics he wished to discuss, enjoyed a cup of tea afterward with his mother and sisters in the parlor, then excused himself and headed for bed.

  Once in his room he waited until he was sure the rest of his family had retired as well, and then headed straight for the kitchen.

  THERE WAS SOMETHING immensely satisfying about having the kitchen all to herself once the rest of the servants had gone up to bed. Eloise loved it. The Townsbridge House kitchen was large, beautifully fitted with everything a cook or a chef might desire. This was her favorite time of day – after the hustle and bustle – when she could prepare the next day’s meals, partly in her head and partly by jotting down some of the items she’d have to purchase the following morning.

  A smile stole across her lips as she sat at the work table with her notebook and pencil. She never trusted another person to shop on her behalf. This was something Grand-père Victor had taught her. Every part of every meal was her responsabilité, and as such, it was up to her to select the finest ingredients possible.

  Taking a sip of the sweet mint tea she’d prepared, she made a few notes. If she was going to prepare her grandfather’s specialty, she’d have to buy some fresh mushrooms. Perhaps some asparagus too. And a vanilla pod, if she was able to find one, for the dessert.

  Eloise had almost finished jotting down the items when a soft scrape drew her attention. She looked up and paused. A man stood in the far corner of the room, just inside the doorway. Tall, with chiseled features, dark hair, a firm mouth, and a curious gaze, he was both handsome and intimidating all at once.

  “Who are you?” Eloise blurted, even though she suspected she already knew the answer. Simmons had mentioned the arrival of the youngest Townsbridge son, so she supposed this would have to be him.

  “Who are you?” he asked, echoing her words without giving an answer.

  Eloise set down her pencil and stood. It was the polite thing to do, not to mention that he might not seem quite so tall if she weren’t sitting. Of course she was wrong about that. She realized this as he crossed the floor, growing in size as he approached.

  It was tempting to take a step back, to retreat and add distance. But that would only reveal how unnerving she found him. Her heart flutter
ed against her breast. It would show weakness while giving him the upper hand.

  So she straightened her spine instead and raised her chin. “Mrs. Lamont,” she told him. “I am la cuisinière. The cook.”

  He stared at her so long she started to wonder if she had flour in her hair or a smudge of sauce on her cheek. And then he smiled, slow and with wolfish delight.

  A shiver raced through Eloise. She balled her hands into two tight fists. To respond in any way, if even with the briefest pleasure of his regard, was unconscionable and dangerous.

  “You made those incredible cream pastries I tasted this afternoon?” he asked. She nodded. Once. “And dinner as well?”

  “Oui.”

  Amazement brightened his eyes to a rich shade of walnut. “I must say, I’m thoroughly impressed. More so now that I’ve met you.”

  Eloise frowned. It bothered her that she always had to prove herself on account of her age. Lady Roxley had been hesitant, too, about hiring her, and Eloise had practically been forced to beg for a chance to show off her skills.

  “Not what you expected?”

  “Not at all.”

  She flattened her mouth. “Well, you’re not what I expected either.”

  The words were out before she could stop them, hanging in the air like a challenge. Why had she said that? What on earth was she thinking?

  “Explain.” He crossed his arms and arched a brow.

  Eloise fought to maintain her composure. Somehow she’d lost all common sense and walked straight into battle. And of course she was far too stubborn to back down now. So she ignored the voice of reason encouraging her to retreat.

  Instead, she said, “Having met your brothers, I imagined you would be just as polite and charming as they are. Instead you barge in here—” a slight exaggeration, she had to admit “–intruding on my domain, as if it is your right to do so.”

  Mr. Townsbridge blinked. “So you know who I am.”