Falling for Mr. Townsbridge

by Sophie Barnes

  He knocked.

  A pause followed and then the door opened a smidgen. Athena’s face appeared in the crack, completely blotch free. “Yes?”

  Uncertainty prompted William to hesitate. His sister didn’t look unwell in the least, so perhaps the sound he’d heard had been something else. He cleared his throat. “May I come in?”

  “Er...” He raised an eyebrow when she glanced over her shoulder. “Right now?”

  What an odd question.

  “I’d rather not stand out here waiting.”

  “Hmm...”

  “Athena?”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s going on?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Perhaps you can come back later?”

  Something in her tone made the back of his neck prickle. He placed his palm against the door and gave it a push. Athena stepped back with a muttered and very unladylike curse. William took a step forward and entered the room. His gaze roamed the neat space until he found Eloise. She was sitting on Athena’s bed.

  “Forgive me, I...” He studied her hunched shoulders, the way her hand covered her mouth, and her downcast eyes, then turned to Athena, “What’s happened?”

  “A letter arrived. Eloise’s grandfather has taken ill, and her mother writes that he hasn’t a lot of time left.”

  A knot formed in William’s throat, and his heart beat loud in his ears. “You must go to him at once.”

  It was the only solution.

  “I’ve told her as much but she insists on waiting to speak with Mama. She’s afraid she’ll lose her position if she’s gone for too long.”

  “And where is Mama right now?” William asked. He’d returned his attention to Eloise, who looked nothing like the strong and capable woman he’d gotten to know. Instinct told him to lift her up, to help her through this, and ease her pain in whatever small way he was able.

  “I’m not sure. She had a bit of shopping to do and mentioned visiting some friends, but I wasn’t paying attention and—”

  “Every moment is precious right now. We cannot waste a single one.” Heaven above, he’d get Eloise to France on time so she could see her grandfather again before it was too late. “Help her pack, Athena. I’ll have one of the carriages readied.”

  “Thank you, Will.”

  He gave a curt nod on his way out the room. “Think nothing of it.”

  Hastening back downstairs, William placed the book he’d been meaning to give Eloise on the hallway table. It would have to wait. Right now, hitching the horses and telling the driver he’d have to head for Portsmouth post haste was of far more importance.

  “I can escort you,” he told Eloise a short while later when she prepared to climb into the carriage. “If you like.”

  Her smile wobbled, but held. “Thank you, but I think you ought to stay here.”

  “Take this then.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a pouch. The coins within jangled ever so softly as he offered it to her.

  “William, I—”

  He grabbed her hand and closed it securely around the pouch. “I’ll make certain you have a job to return to. I promise.”

  She gave a tight nod – the sort that suggested she struggled to keep her composure – and he released her with gnawing regret. The door closed and he stepped back. “Drive carefully, but make haste.”

  The coachman tipped his hat and whipped the horses into motion. William stood behind on the pavement, feeling as though his heart had just ridden off without him.

  He waited until the conveyance was out of sight, then strode back inside, collected the book he’d bought, and took it upstairs to his room for safekeeping. After a change of clothes and a brief exchange with Athena, who promised to solve the immediate cooking problem the household faced, he went to his father’s study and patiently waited for Roxley to return from his club.

  It took nearly two hours before the man finally walked through the door. He looked at William, who immediately stood.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” Roxley said. “It’s been a while since you’ve come to see me, you’ve been so busy of late.”

  “My apologies.” William clasped his hands behind his back to keep from fidgeting.

  His father cut him a speculative glance as he went to pour two glasses of brandy. He handed one to William. “You look more anxious than usual. Care to discuss it?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.” William took a large sip of his drink and then promptly said, “I would like to request your help with purchasing a house.”

  A tiny flinch was the only indication of Roxley’s surprise. He took a seat, waited for William to do the same, and finally asked, “Why now?”

  “Because I, um...would like to be more independent.” He raised his chin. Whatever plans he’d had of going to Florence had vanished with Eloise’s departure. He had to wait for her return, had to do what he could to make her his. “After living alone for a year in Lisbon, I only planned to stay with you and Mama temporarily.”

  “I see.” His father steepled his fingers. “You want to be able to do as you please without us or your sisters being the wiser. Have you started searching for a new position?”

  “Not yet.” After all, he’d been meaning to travel. “But I will.”

  “Houses don’t pay for themselves, you know, so while I am happy to cover the cost of buying one for you, seeing as I did help your brothers in a similar capacity, I would like to make sure you have the necessary income to keep it.”

  “I’ll start looking for a position tomorrow.”

  “Excellent.” Roxley reached for his glass. “Let’s drink to success then, shall we? I’ll find out what’s on the market and we can go take a look.”

  Pleased with how well this conversation had gone, William thanked his father and stood. His next task was to make sure Athena had met with success and that food would indeed be served at seven o’clock that evening.

  “William?”

  Roxley’s voice stopped him before he reached the door. He turned and met his father’s thoughtful gaze. “Yes?”

  “If this sudden desire of yours to change your life has something to do with a woman, I do hope you’ll stop and think with your brain before you allow your baser instincts to guide you.”

  William barely managed a tight smile. It was the best he could do short of sputtering in response. He inhaled deeply, then let the air out with slow deliberation. “Of course.”

  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 Four

  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 fea
red 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 disheartened. 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.”