Falling for Mr. Townsbridge

by Sophie Barnes

  “It’s quite all right,” Eloise said, but something in her voice suggested the subject of conversation distressed her. She inhaled sharply, forced a smile, and raised her chin. “Many noble families in France became extinct a few decades ago. And since I refuse to seek employment with the nouveau riche, coming to England seemed like a better opportunity.”

  “Of course,” William said. He finished the food on his plate without saying anything else. For some absurd reason his questions had dulled the mood, and he somehow felt more adrift and uncertain than he could recall ever feeling before.

  “Well,” Athena said after sharing a brief discussion with Eloise about the latest novel she’d purchased and planned to lend her, “I think I’m going to get started on my collecting.”

  Eloise opened her mouth, but Athena was gone before she managed to get one word out. She looked at William with no small amount of uncertainty, then gave her attention back to the grapes.

  “You got the better of me the other day,” William said. “I almost ended up making bread rolls.”

  “And yet you managed to escape the task.” A hint of a smile pulled at her lips. “While leaving me with quite the mess to clean up.”

  He knit his brow. “I’m sorry. That was badly done of me. It’s just... Well the thing is that if I’d stayed I probably would have kissed you.”

  Her head jerked up, her gaze colliding with his in a look so startled it took him slightly aback. Surely it shouldn’t surprise her. She glanced around, then told him hoarsely, “You should not say such things.”

  It was rather inappropriate, but then again, “I prefer to be honest with you.”

  “Nevertheless.” Her entire face had turned a deep shade of crimson.

  William was sorry to have caused her discomfort, but he wasn’t sorry he’d let her know where he stood. The attraction was simply too strong for him to keep bottled up. And he couldn’t speak to his brothers about it – not after they’d made their opposition clear. Confiding in his sisters or parents was even more impossible. They’d be horrified by his developing feelings for a servant because it breached what ought to be an innate code of conduct. And leaning on his friends was equally undesirable since none would be able to relate.

  So that left the object of his desire. He considered her for a moment. She was clearly out of her element here, the manner in which she kept nibbling her lip indicative of her agitated nerves. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “A walk?”

  “Yes.” The idea appealed even more now that he’d suggested it. Movement would serve them both good. It would give them something to do with themselves until they found their way back to comfortable conversation. “We can take a closer look at the brook.”

  “But your sister—”

  “Will be fully occupied for the next half hour.” He stood and offered his hand.

  Eloise stared at it as if it were scalding hot and threatened to burn her. Eventually, she reached up, clasped his fingers, and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

  THERE WAS NO DOUBT in Eloise’s mind that Athena had deliberately planned her brother’s attendance. The question was why. As far as Eloise knew, Matt was the only one aware of an interest between them.

  Since her flour fight with William four days earlier, she’d done her best to avoid thinking of him, which was more or less possible during the day, as long as she wasn’t baking. But at night, when she climbed into bed and tried to sleep, it was near impossible not to have him invade her thoughts.

  She looped her arm with his and allowed him to lead her down the easy slope of the hill and toward the brook. Away from Athena, she noted. After what he’d just confessed, she was even more uncertain of being alone with him. On one hand she desperately wanted that kiss, but on the other, she was terrified of what the consequences would be if she allowed such intimacy between them.

  “Did you enjoy living in Portugal?” she asked when they’d gone a few paces. It occurred to her that she wanted to know all there was to know about him, and this seemed like an excellent place to start.

  “I did.” His eyes shone with genuine pleasure. “The climate was almost always pleasant with much milder winters than here. The food was excellent and, I think, healthier than what I’ve always been used to in England. Until I returned and discovered your cooking, that is. I’m quite sure nothing in the world can beat it.”

  Eloise thanked him for the compliment, then said, “It sounds as though you miss Lisbon.”

  “In a way. My life was different there – more purposeful because of my work at the embassy.”

  “You could prolong your position, could you not?”

  “I received an offer to do so but declined. A year that far away from my family was long enough. It was time to come home and ponder what to do next.”

  “You’re different from most men in your position.” When he gave her a quizzical look, she explained, “From what I gather, the sons of peers don’t usually seek employment, except through the church or military.”

  “Legal professions are also acceptable. In fact, they’re traditional for third sons, but my family isn’t very traditional. If they were, James would have bought a commission years ago. Instead, he and his wife have entered the manufacturing business. They’ve hired seamstresses to create stylish and inexpensive clothing for those who can’t afford a modiste or a tailor. Abigail, my sister-in-law, designs them. She’s got quite a knack.”

  “I did hear a couple of maids discussing it some time ago but didn’t pay too much attention since I was sure they must be mistaken. After all, it is uncommon, but I have to say it’s also impressive. Being in a position of constant judgment by the ton, it must take tremendous courage to stand apart and be different. I rather admire it.”

  “Me too.” He chuckled lightly. “I sometimes wonder if I’d have what it takes to thwart expectation and face condemnation in pursuit of my dreams.”

  An unexpected tension gripped Eloise’s muscles. “And what are your dreams?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

  Her insides twisted. Of course it was foolish of her to think for one second that they’d involve her. And even if they did, he’d just confirmed that he didn’t want her enough. Whatever he felt would never allow him to pursue more than a brief flirtation. Of course it wouldn’t. How silly of her to think it might.

  “I’d love to open a culinary school one day,” she said, hoping her own dream would help lift her spirits.

  “That’s quite an ambition.”

  “A real dream ought to be, don’t you think? If it’s easily attainable it’s more of a task you decide to complete as opposed to a goal you must work toward or hope for.” His mouth slanted, the left side scrunching a little as if in thought. “I’ve made some calculations and since I don’t require much on a daily basis, saving the majority of my salary ought to allow me to realize my dream in about ten years.”

  “Good lord. That is a long time.”

  “It will certainly require patience, but in the end it will be a wonderful achievement. I hope.” Inhaling deeply, she allowed the fragrant smell of the countryside to infuse her senses. “In my opinion anything worth having requires work.”

  “One could say your food is testament to that notion.”

  He smiled at her with charm and warmth and such openness that it was easy for her to imagine him pulling her into his arms and holding her close. Of pressing his lips to hers and offering her a glimpse of what life by William’s side would look like.

  Fearful of how her heart might suffer, Eloise pulled away and went to inspect the brook. She needed distance, a chance to collect her thoughts and regain her composure – time in which to build a much needed wall between them.

  “Eloise.”

  Her name whispered close to her ear, sparking her awareness until every nerve in her body strained with anticipation. “Don’t. Whatever it is you mean to say, please don’t.”

  “I’ve been thinking at great le
ngth,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken, “and I’d like to make a suggestion.”

  Eloise turned toward him. She knew what he would say. There was only one option really, and it would not involve an offer of marriage. It couldn’t. So she balled her hands into fists and forced her spine into a rigid position.

  “No. Whatever it is you’re hoping for it’s not going to happen.” Taking advantage of his momentary surprise, she walked away as fast as she could, hastening back up the hill with every intention of finding Athena. Spending time in William’s company had been a monumentally bad idea.

  “But you don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  “Of course I do,” she hissed at him over her shoulder. “I am a servant and you are a viscount’s son, so if you want what I think you want, then there’s only one way to achieve it and I won’t allow that.”

  “But—”

  “Non! Arretez.” She swept her hand out in a gesture of finality. This thing between them, whatever it was and however much it made her heart beat faster, was over.

  Spotting Athena, Eloise breathed a sigh of relief and forced a smile. “There you are. Did you manage to find some good specimens for your project?”

  Athena turned toward her. She nodded, then frowned and tilted her head. “Why does my brother look so sullen? Did the two of you quarrel?”

  “Of course not,” Eloise assured her. “That would imply I am in a position to question what he might say when all I am is a servant.”

  Athena responded with a belligerent look. “You’re more than that, Ellie.”

  “My mother was, perhaps, but I’m not, and while I do enjoy your company, I cannot afford to forget my place. It would help a great deal if you would try to remember that.” Instead of trying to match me with a man I want but cannot have.

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s no need.” Eloise managed a wide smile. “Now let me see the flowers you’ve found.”

  SHE’D REJECTED HIM before he’d even had a chance to voice his idea. Irritated, William thrust his rapier at Charles, striking his padded chest with brutal force. A good thing they weren’t fencing with real swords, or he would have impaled him on the spot.

  “Well done,” James applauded from the sideline.

  Charles stepped back and glared at them both. “This is supposed to be an elegant sport based on skill, yet all you’ve displayed here this afternoon, Will, is anger. And it’s given me a damn bruise to boot.”

  “I’m sorry,” William said. “I got carried away.”

  His older brother’s scowl didn’t diminish. “It’s her again, isn’t it?”

  “Mrs. Lamont?” James asked, his voice incredulous.

  “You haven’t managed to evict her from your mind yet,” Charles continued. “Have you?”

  William shook his head. He had no energy left to argue. “No.”

  “Christ,” Charles muttered.

  “I think it’s time for us to intervene,” James said.

  “Absolutely not,” William told them. He wasn’t sure what their suggestion would be, but he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to like it.

  “Distracting yourself with us and your friends clearly isn’t enough,” Charles said. “You’ve been doing it for almost two weeks, and yet our parents’ French cook is still on your mind.”

  “You need a woman.”

  I certainly do. I need Eloise.

  “Not that woman,” Charles muttered, reading his thoughts. He followed the utterance with an exasperated sigh. “A different one who can see to your needs so you can stop panting after Mrs. Lamont.”

  William frowned. He detested the imagery Charles crafted with his words. “I’m not a dog.”

  James snorted. “You’re after one particular thing.”

  “Unless, of course...” Charles mused.

  “Unless what?” William asked when his brother began strolling toward the changing room. He shot a confused look at James before jogging after Charles.

  Charles shrugged his broad shoulders. “Unless you love her.”

  Startled laughter rose up William’s throat. “Love her?”

  Charles halted his progress and turned to face him with shocking seriousness. “Yes.”

  William shook his head and glanced at James, who’d approached in the meantime. His expression was equally grave. “If you love her, bedding another woman isn’t likely to help.”

  “In fact, I suspect it might make everything worse,” Charles murmured.

  William flattened his mouth. “I’m not in love with Eloise—” both brothers raised their brows on account of him using her given name “–but that doesn’t mean she can be replaced by some harlot for hire. Good lord. You’re so besotted with your wives you can’t see an alternative.”

  “Which is?” Charles asked.

  “That I simply want her the same way I wanted that blue kite when I was little. The green one papa eventually bought me was probably equally good but it wasn’t the same.”

  “You know,” James said with a wry twist of his lips, “in the dark you wouldn’t have known the difference, and I rather think—”

  “Ugh.” Disgusted with both his brothers and what they implied, William shoved his way past them. Eloise was special, funny, charming, and spirited. No one could replace her, not even in the dark. But how could he make them understand without their insisting he must love her if that were true?

  He couldn’t, and he was through trying.

  “I think I’ll walk home,” he said when they parted ways outside the fencing club half an hour later. “The fresh air will do me good.”

  “I can walk with you if you’d like some company,” James offered.

  “Thank you, but I’d prefer to walk alone, if that’s all right. See you later?”

  “Of course,” Charles said. James merely nodded. Both had a dubious look about their eyes – the sort that seemed to say without words, you’re drowning, reach for a life line, damn it.

  William simply turned away and started toward Townsbridge House. He had no use for their pity or for the guidance they were trying to give him. And keeping his distance from Eloise wasn’t helping. He’d thought that if he filled his days and kept himself busy, he’d avoid thinking about her. But that wasn’t the case.

  As the days went on, he just thought of her more, regardless of whether or not he saw her. In fact, it had gotten to a point where seeing her, or at least being near her, actually offered some small relief. Even when she was trying to push him away.

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned onto Oxford Street. His heart still beat in a steady rhythm, but it felt heavier than usual. How on earth was he going to solve this conundrum? How was he going to convince her to listen to him and accept what he wanted to give her?

  He glanced toward a shop window and stopped. Several books were on display, but one particular one caught his eye. French Landscapes in Color. He studied the beautiful cover for a good five minutes while weighing his options, and eventually decided to inquire about the price.

  “A stunning piece for any library collection.” The clerk was an enthusiastic older gentleman with a beaming smile. He placed the book on the counter and pushed it toward William. “Have a look inside. It’s bound to take your breath away.”

  William opened the book and was instantly drawn in by the vibrant display of color depicting a lavender field stretching toward a rustic farm house with rolling green hills in the background. He turned the page to a vineyard, then to the Mediterranean shore. Each image was labeled with the location where it had been painted, along with a brief description of the area.

  “How much is this?” William asked while carefully closing the book. His heart was knocking about his chest with excitement. Eloise had told him she missed her homeland. Hopefully, this would help bring it closer.

  The clerk shifted. “The application of color on every page makes it more pricy than a novel or any other book printed in black ink.”
/>   “I expect as much.” William gave him a direct look.

  “It’s three pounds.”

  Good God! That was more than thrice as much as he’d thought it would be. Not that he couldn’t afford it, but really, it was an exorbitant amount – as much as he’d paid for his last saddle. “Is it hand painted and inlaid with gold?”

  “Umm...”

  William sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll take it.”

  “You will?”

  “Yes. Please wrap it for me.” He wanted to do something not only nice but useful for Eloise, and while it was inappropriate of him to purchase a gift for her, he decided to ignore the social stricture. Making her happy was more important.

  The shopkeeper beamed as he handed over the brown paper parcel in exchange for William’s coin. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Thank you too.”

  Pleased with himself, and with his heart a great deal lighter than earlier, William continued on his way. He arrived home and handed his hat and gloves to Simmons. A nervous sort of energy fizzed through his veins. He wanted to seek out Eloise right away and give her the gift, only that wouldn’t do at all, would it? Someone might see and he couldn’t have that. Not if he was to safeguard her reputation.

  He pondered his options. The upper floor where the servants slept should be vacant right now. Perhaps if he went up there and left the book in her bedchamber? No. That wouldn’t work. Not only because he’d no idea which room was hers but because it would be disastrous if he got caught.

  Athena.

  That was it.

  He’d enlist her help.

  It wasn’t the perfect solution, especially since he dreaded all the questions he’d most likely have to answer, but it was the best he could think of. He started upstairs and was soon standing outside her door. He raised his hand to knock but paused when a muffled sound met his ears. Was his sister crying?

  Leaning in, he strained to listen. Another sob sounded. William frowned. His sister was allowed her privacy. He didn’t want to intrude. But drat it all, if she was suffering and he could help... The least he could do was tell her he was there to offer support.