“It’s lovely to see you again,” she said. “I understand from your brother that you’ve been away in Portugal this past year. How exciting.”
William did his best to muster some enthusiasm with the subject she wished to discuss, but by the time he began describing the food he’d enjoyed in Lisbon, all he could think of was how much he wished he could taste Eloise’s cooking once more. Without even thinking, he began describing each meal she’d prepared – each more tasty than the last.
“Oh,” the baroness sighed a few moments later. “You were just telling me of your fondness for salmon mousse and look what we have here.”
William frowned and stared down at his place. Sure enough, a soft pink pyramid sat before him with a twisted lemon slice and a piece of dill adorning the top. His chest automatically tightened even though reason informed him it had to be a coincidence.
And yet when he took his first bite the explosion of flavor upon his tongue was precisely the same as it had been each time he’d tasted Eloise’s cooking. He shook his head. His mind must be playing tricks on him. Obviously, he was so determined to find her he was prepared to believe she’d created this meal and was somewhere nearby. It was the only possibility.
But then the main course arrived and the beef melted in his mouth, leaving behind rich flavors of herbs and wine. His heart knocked wildly against his ribs. Both the first and the second courses were identical to a couple of the dishes he’d had at home while Eloise worked there. And when a moist chocolate cake filled with nuts was served for dessert, he no longer had the patience to remain seated.
Leaving his cake half eaten, he stood. It was almost a crime to squander such a perfect delicacy, but the urgency within him compelled him to seek out the cook who’d made it.
With a hasty apology directed primarily at his hosts, he quit the dining room and made his way toward the stairs leading down to the store rooms and kitchen. If Eloise was in this house, then he was bloody well going to find her.
Chapter Six
Tea and coffee wouldhave to be served next. Eloise had prepared macaroons earlier in the day which she now proceeded to pile onto several serving dishes. A scullery maid worked nearby on cleaning the plates, cutlery, and glasses that had been brought down earlier. She was a swift worker, and Eloise admired her speed and thoroughness.
“Please take these up to the parlor and distribute one on each table,” she instructed one of the footmen as soon as the macaroons had been displayed to her liking. Once he was on his way, she ordered two maids to take up the teapots and coffee.
A sigh of relief left her as soon as this had been accomplished. The most important part of her job today had been completed. All that remained now was for her to clean the stove and oven since this was a task she preferred to do herself.
She collected a tub, added some soap suds and filled it with water, then grabbed the cloth she’d boiled that morning and used it to wipe away all traces of grease. It wasn’t too arduous a task since she did it daily and took only about ten minutes to complete.
Once done, she rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck in an effort to ease her tense muscles, not caring if the footman entering the kitchen behind her bore witness. Bending over thirty plates in order to decorate each perfect pyramid of salmon mousse was strenuous work, and so was wielding an iron skillet.
The man’s feet scraped the floor before drawing to halt. Eloise sighed as she went to toss out the dirty water from the tub she’d used. “There’s still one more tray to take up. And then the dining room will need to be cleared.”
“I’m not here to work,” a low and all-too-familiar voice murmured, “but rather to make a complaint.”
Eloise wasn’t sure who gasped loudest, her or the scullery maid. She glanced at the girl whose gaze was firmly fixed on the plate she was scrubbing. Her arched eyebrows conveyed the extent of her shock. She pressed her lips together and went to work on the next plate, clearly determined to avoid any confrontation.
Eloise turned and her heart leapt into her throat, because whatever memory she’d had of William, the real flesh and blood man standing before her was so much more impressive. Her stomach began doing cartwheels the moment her gaze met his. Heat washed over her body, pricking her skin and causing her fingers to tremble until she feared she might drop the tub she held. She carefully set it aside.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Yet somehow he was, and heaven above, if she wasn’t tempted to forget why she’d run from him in the first place or why she was here. Only, doing so would be a mistake. So she forced her spine into a rigid line, raised her chin, and confronted him with as much directness as she could manage.
