“And you would not be the first to say so.”
She straightened, as much as she could after years bent over a stove. “You are treading dangerous ground.”
“In more ways than you can imagine.” He crossed his arms and peered down at her. “It is about to be known. We have reached a point where it can no longer be hidden.” He took a deep breath. “I will tell the people at Campion’s today.”
She flopped the linen cloth from the bread up over her shoulder. “Well, ya always have a welcome here.” She gestured at the tray. “It is rude to serve a lady cold coffee.”
Robert gave her another kiss on the cheek, then lifted the tray. “You have always taken care of me.”
“Just be careful, my boy. Ya don’t know what ya stirrin’ up.”
But Robert did know. All too well.
Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday, 19 July 1825
Eleven in the morning
Eloise awoke tothe scents of sweet bread and coffee.
And her thoughts immediately went to Timothy as she struggled to throw off sleep.
“Where did you get that?”
The pastry had left raspberry smears on both his cheeks. A dab of clotted cream perched precariously over one eyebrow. A mouthful of fluffy and crisp dough muffled his words, his expression indicating he thought her the most stupid girl in the world. “Kitchen. Dozens there.” He held up three fingers.
“Did you get yours from the stove or from the tray headed up to Mother’s tea? The one for the duchess. The one she’s been fretting over for weeks.”
He stopped chewing, his eight-year-old face suddenly stalled in fear. He swallowed as if the pastry had suddenly turned to mud.
Eloise’s eyes burned with the memory. Her mother had reminded Timothy of those unexpected gaps in the tea tray for months, usually looking at Eloise in blame as well.You coddle him.
A soft touch on her shoulder stalled the tears. “Eloise?”
She sniffed and pinched her nose, then wiped away the tears as she sat up. She tucked the sheet under her armpits, although well aware that Robert had seen far more of her than her shoulders. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar.” He stood by the bed wearing only his shirt and trousers, the braces causing the untucked shirt to puff out around his body and gap wide over his chest.
She attempted to glare at him, but the expression wouldn’t hold. Instead, she pointed at the wooden tray sitting on the accent table between the two armchairs. “You brought food?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. “And coffee. Are you hungry?”
“I believe I could empty a kitchen, given the chance.”
“Cook would be both pleased and offended.” He brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb, and his voice seemed to drop an entire octave. “Timothy?”
Eloise felt the simple question clear to her heart. She reached out and put a hand on his chest. “The past few days have been a maelstrom, but he is never far from my mind.”
“Of course not.”
“I just want to do something,anything, to find him.” She winced. “I feel as if I’m failing him. I should be out chasing down villains instead of taking pleasure in your bed.”
He closed his hand over hers. “You have been frantic since he went missing. It’s in your notes, your actions.” He stroked her cheek. “Even as you find consolation—and I know that’s what you’re doing—in my bed. Youaredoing something. More than most people could or would do. You came looking for him. You have asked for help. And you are aiding me in getting that help.”
She frowned, not completely understanding his words. “How?”
He stood, filled a mug with coffee and brought it to her. “Here. This will clear the cobwebs.”
