He gulped, glanced over his shoulder, and slowly turned back to face her with wide eyes. “I’m supposed to fence with my brother.”
“In that case you probably ought to get started.” She raised both eyebrows.
Mr. Townsbridge looked at Matt, who held up both hands while backing away.
“I’d do as she says,” Matt said. He gave Eloise a look that warned her to be careful before removing himself to some other part of the house.
“How about an apology?” Mr. Townsbridge tried. He added a smile that threatened to melt her bones.
Annoying man.
Determined to keep up her guard, Eloise raised her chin and met his gaze boldly. “I’d certainly appreciate one, but you’re still making another batch. Now go clean your hands. There’s water and soap over there.”
A clear scowl marred his forehead as he trudged across the floor. Eloise hid a smile and went back to kneading her dough. When Mr. Townsbridge returned to the work table, he grabbed the bowl she’d pointed to earlier and reached for the flour. “How much?”
“You might want to remove your jacket.”
“How much?” he gritted.
Eloise shrugged and gave him the amount, then watched as he lifted the bag of flour and started pouring it into the measuring cup he held. As expected, the flour poured out much quicker than he’d anticipated, spilling over the sides of the cup and filling the air with a cloud of white.
Mr. Townsbridge made an impossible attempt at righting the situation before he gave up and coughed. Eloise bit her lip and tried to force back her laughter. But when the haze cleared and she saw he was covered almost entirely from head to toe in a fine layer of powder, she exploded. Mostly, because she wasn’t sure how he’d managed it.
“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” His tone was dry.
“Honestly,” she choked, “I had no idea.”
“Really?”
He didn’t believe her. Eloise tried to regain her composure and meet his gaze, but doing so just made her laugh even harder. “I did try to warn you. Oh dear, I think it’s in your ears.”
“Hmm.”
She had about two seconds to figure out whathmmmeant before something soft and airy breezed over her face. Stilling, she opened her eyes and licked her lips. Flour. He must have tossed a handful at her while she’d been laughing, if his victorious grin was any indication. Reaching up she touched her cheek.
“Alors...” Eloise withdrew her hand and studied the white-covered tips of her fingers. She pondered her options while casting a glance at some nearby eggs. Tossing one at him was tempting, but it would also be messy, would certainly ruin the egg, and possibly his clothes as well.
So she picked up the small bowl of water she used for rinsing her hands and smirked.
He tracked her movement. “Don’t you dare.”
“Did you not just throw flour at me?” she asked as she started toward him.
“That was different.” He backed up a step when she rounded the corner of the worktable and approached him, bowl in hand.
“It was deliberate,n’est-ce pas?”
He swallowed and backed up further. His hands rose before him like a shield. “A mistake, I assure you.”
She paused for a moment. “You’re making quite a few today, Mr. Townsbridge.”
“Yes. Well. I really ought to go.” Panic was creeping into his eyes. “The fencing with my brother, if you’ll recall.”
“You still have to bake, and clean yourself off.” The devil inside her – a creature she’d not even known existed until this moment – rubbed its hands together in glee. “I can help you with the last part.”
Mr. Townsbridge’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Lamont. I—”
Eloise dipped her hand in the bowl and flicked a spray of water at Mr. Townsbridge. It was more than she’d intended. Droplets dripped from his hair and ran down his face.
