“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 SOMETHINGimmensely 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 somethingGrand-pèreVictor had taught her. Every part of every meal was herresponsabilité, 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 fluttered 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 amla 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.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a very deliberate head-to-toe perusal. “It isn’t hard to figure out.”
