“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 brieftrébuchement 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.”
