Falling for Mr. Townsbridge - Sophie Barnes Page 0,2

pastries. The flavor still lingered on William’s tongue, prompting him to ponder the woman who’d made them.

With a smile and a shake of his head, he returned the watch to the drawer for safe keeping and pulled out a neatly folded shirt. She was probably much like all the other cooks he’d ever seen: middle-aged and plump with a cheerful disposition. And most likely married to a very happy man, William decided with a grin.

This opinion did not change when he joined his family for dinner and savored his first bite of seafood mousse topped with dill and lemon. Or when a plate containing perfectly grilled slices of beef tenderloin was placed before him. The succulent meat melted in his mouth along with the baby potatoes and baked vegetables. And when the dessert arrived...

Ah, but it was yet another culinary masterpiece – a chocolate cake of some sort filled with nuts, so moist and sweet he wished he had several more stomachs to fill.

“Judging from that look on your face, I gather you will be staying a while,” his mother teased.

“If you’re wise,” he told her dryly, deciding not to ruin the mood by addressing his plans for departure, “you will lock Mrs. Lamont away before someone steals her.”

“I think you ought to meet her,” Athena said.

Roxley coughed while their mother and Sarah both stared at her in dismay. William felt as though he might be missing something – a joke perhaps?

“I’m sure William has more important things do,” Roxley managed to say while still clearing his throat. “Like calling on his brothers.”

“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 SOMETHING immensely 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 something Grand-père Victor had taught her. Every part of every meal was her responsabilité, 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