Rules of a Ruse (Regency Christmas Brides #2)

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Alden exited the coach and stared at the dilapidated, two-level, thatched-roof cottage. The structure looked like it had seen better days, with its weathered walls and sagging roof. Surely, this could not be the charming cottage Miss Sidney had described. Perhaps the interior was better maintained than the exterior, he thought, hoping for a pleasant surprise.

As he walked towards the door, he noticed a lone footman following him. He turned towards the footman and asked, “Are you sure we are at the right cottage?”

“This is the only cottage in the woodlands,” the footman replied with a grimace.

“Are there any other cottages on the property?”

The footman nodded. “Yes, there is one, and it is in much better shape than this cottage,” he revealed. “Furthermore, it is closer to the manor.”

Alden frowned. Why hadn’t Miss Sidney sent him there? Why did she relegate him to the woodlands? Did she think he needed privacy? Or was this some sort of test?

Unsure of what to think, Alden opened the door, which creaked ominously. He stepped inside, and the sound of his boots on the worn floorboards echoed through the cottage. A rickety-looking staircase ran along the side wall, appearing ready to collapse under the slightest pressure.

His short, thin valet, Hastings, stood by the hearth where a crackling fire filled the small space with warmth and light.

Hastings stepped forward to collect his great coat. “Come, warm yourself by the fire,” he encouraged, his tone suggesting he was trying to make the best of a bad situation.

Alden stepped closer to the hearth and put his hands out to warm them. “Please say that my bedchamber is in better condition than the rest of the cottage.”

“You do have a feather mattress, but I did have to request one from the butler,” Hastings said. “He seemed reluctant to have one brought out here, but I insisted that you require that basic luxury.”

He glanced up and noticed trickles of light coming through the roof. “I see that the roof is in disrepair.”

“Among other things,” Hastings muttered under his breath.

Alden dropped down onto the brown leather chair that groaned under his weight. “We only need to reside here until I convince Miss Sidney to marry me.”

Hastings moved to stand by him, his expression a mix of concern and skepticism. “You intend to marry Miss Sidney?”

He shrugged. “I figure she is as good as any, and she is remarkably beautiful.”

“Have you considered that she doesn’t like you?” Hastings asked. “I merely say such a thing because she is relegating you to a cottage that should be abandoned.”

“It isn’t that bad,” Alden attempted.

Hastings looked at him with disbelief. “Not one of your father’s tenants live in such squalor.”

“But this is Scotland,” Alden argued. “Besides, you seem to forget that women adore me. In a short time, I will have Miss Sidney eating out of the palm of my hand.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Hastings said .

Alden had to admit that it surprised him that Miss Sidney had been able to resist his advances. But he would play her game… for now. If she thought he would come crawling back to the manor to complain about the state of the cottage, she was sorely mistaken. He may be a gentleman, but he used to spend time at their hunting lodge, deep in the woodlands by his country estate. He would even trap his own food and prepare it. This cottage did not scare him, but rather strengthened his resolve to win Miss Sidney over.

There was only one thing that scared him and that was spiders. It had been that way since he was young. It was an impractical fear, but a fear, nonetheless. His brother had used this fear to his advantage and would often sneak spiders into his bedchamber.

Rising, Alden asked, “Where is my bedchamber?”

Hastings pointed upward. “It is on the next level.”

“I think I would like to rest before supper, considering we were up at such an early hour this morning,” Alden said.

“Would you like me to assist you in undressing?”

Alden shook his head. “No, that won’t be necessary,” he said before he walked over to the stairs.

As he placed his foot on the step, the wood creaked and dipped slightly under his weight. That is not good, he thought. He carefully ascended the stairs, wincing at each groan of the wood, and arrived at his bedchamber. He had just started removing his cravat when he heard a distinctive thud.

Alden turned back towards the door. “Hastings?”

When his valet didn’t respond, he draped his cravat over his neck and headed towards the bed. He had just moved to pull back the blanket, hoping to find some semblance of comfort in this dismal place. As he moved the blanket, he noticed a flicker of movement from under the bed out of the corner of his eye.

He crouched down and his eyes widened in shock. There, lurking in the shadows, was a giant house spider, its long, hairy legs spread out menacingly.

Jumping up, Alden ran out of his room and dashed down the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest. “There was a massive spider under my bed!” he exclaimed.

“Would you like me to remove it?” Hastings asked calmly, clearly unaware of how large the spider was.

“No, we are getting out of this cottage once and for all,” Alden responded, hastily grabbing his cloak. “Pack up my trunks and return to the manor.”

“Sir…” Hastings started, but Alden had already swung open the main door.

“I will inform the butler to send the coach for you at once,” he stated. “And for heaven’s sake, do not look under my bed.”

He didn’t bother to wait for his valet to respond before he charged out the door. Alden could endure most things, but sharing a space with a giant house spider was not one of them. He wouldn’t do it.

With swift, determined strides, Alden exited the woodlands, the trees thinning out as he crossed the field towards the manor. He reached the entrance and flung the door open, sighing in relief as warmth enveloped him.

“Miss Sidney!” Alden shouted, his voice carrying through the hall.

A moment later, Miss Sidney appeared from a corridor, a look of curiosity and concern on her features. “What is wrong?”

Alden closed the distance between them, his anger still simmering. “How could you send me to that cottage?”

She met his gaze with a blank stare. “I don’t understand,” she replied. “Is it not up to your liking?”

“My liking?” he repeated, incredulous. “It should be condemned.”

“It isn’t that bad,” she argued .

Alden raised his hands in exasperation. “There was a massive spider under my bed. My bed, Miss Sidney!”

Miss Sidney’s expression softened with understanding. “That was just a house spider, and they are completely harmless.”

“It didn’t look harmless,” Alden contended. “What if I had been in bed and it had decided to join me?”

“Spiders are important since they eat the insects…” Miss Sidney began.

Alden put his hand up, stilling her words. “I am aware of what spiders’ roles are, but I refuse to stay at a cottage when I might be eaten by one.”

Miss Sidney gave him a weak smile. “I’m afraid that house spiders are very common in Scotland. They enter through the chimneys and under doorways. You can’t prevent them from coming inside.”

“Are you not the least bit afraid of spiders?” Alden asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“I have grown accustomed to them,” Miss Sidney admitted. “They truly mean you no harm. If you had to be afraid of something, I would be afraid of the adder. That particular snake is poisonous and is common in our area.”

Alden took a step back, his eyes widening. Drats. Now he had a new fear. “I demand that you let me stay at the other cottage. The one that is closer to the manor.”

Miss Sidney nodded. “Of course,” she said. “That won’t be an issue. I just thought you would want to enjoy the tranquility that the cottage in the woodlands provided.”

“Tranquility is the least of my concerns,” Alden responded.

Turning towards the butler, who had been standing nearby, Miss Sidney instructed, “Please send the coach to the cottage to collect Mr. Dandridge’s trunks and deliver them to the other cottage. ”

Bryon tipped his head in response. “Yes, Miss Sidney,” he said before hurrying off to carry out her instructions.

Miss Sidney clasped her hands in front of her and brought her gaze back to Alden. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind sitting down,” Alden replied.

Gesturing towards the drawing room, Miss Sidney suggested, “Why don’t you rest before supper? Our cook has a special meal planned.” She lowered her voice. “Not even I am privy to what she is going to serve, but I have no doubt that it will be delicious.”

Alden suddenly felt rather silly for how he had reacted. Perhaps the spider wasn’t as big of an issue as he had made it out to be. “Miss Sidney, I am sorry if I…”

“You have no reason to apologize,” she interrupted, her tone gentle. “I just want you to be comfortable here since this will all be yours one day.”

“Thank you,” Alden said.

“Had I known you were afraid of spiders?—”

He cut her off. “I am not afraid of spiders,” he lied. “I only take issues with ones that are as large as a house cat.”

Miss Sidney stepped forward, giving him a reassuring smile. “To ease your mind, I will direct the servants to scour the cottage where you will be residing in search of any spiders.”

Alden ran a hand through his hair. “That is most thoughtful of you.”

“It is the least I can do,” she said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to work. But I will see you for supper.”

As Miss Sidney walked away, Alden couldn’t quite believe how calm she was about the house spiders.

Once Elinor was out of sight of Mr. Dandridge, she shuddered at the thought of the giant house spider that he had described. How she loathed spiders, especially house spiders. Their long legs and plump bodies made her skin crawl. They were harmless, but their mere size always made her cringe. She would never admit it to Mr. Dandridge, but she’d had a similar reaction when she’d encountered her first house spider, jumping back with a shriek and refusing to return to her room until it was dealt with.

She arrived at her study and walked around the large mahogany desk, opening the ledger in front of her. Moments later, her aunt stepped into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. “I heard shouting. Is everything all right?”

“It is,” Elinor confirmed. “Poor Mr. Dandridge came face to face with a house spider and he was rather upset about it.”

“House spiders can grow to be rather large,” her aunt mused, moving to sit in one of the chairs that faced the desk.

“That they can, but they are everywhere in Scotland,” Elinor said, settling into her own chair. “It is just one of the many things I have had to get used to here.”

Her aunt grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. “Can anyone get used to seeing a massive spider staring back at them?”

“No, I suppose not,” Elinor responded, shaking her head. “I was half-hoping that Mr. Dandridge would give up and leave Scotland.”

“I don’t think it is going to be that easy.”

Elinor nodded. “I agree, which is why I have selected three perfect young women to introduce Mr. Dandridge to.”

Her aunt lifted her brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes, I was thinking that Mrs. Gwendolyn MacBain, Miss Isobel Fraser, and Miss Maisie Cowen would all be interested in a marriage of convenience with Mr. Dandridge.”

Her aunt let out a slight huff. “You must not think very highly of Mr. Dandridge since you picked three uninteresting young women. ”

“It is not a matter of thinking highly of him,” Elinor contended. “If he fails to marry by the Twelfth Night, then the horse farm is mine.”

“I understand your reasonings but be careful. You don’t want Mr. Dandridge to see what you are attempting to do,” her aunt cautioned.

Elinor leaned forward in her seat. “I promise I will be careful.”

“Good,” her aunt said. “I would hurry down to the kitchen and eat something before we adjourn for supper.”

Arching an eyebrow, Elinor asked, “Dare I ask why?”

“Mrs. Beaton is going to make a traditional Scottish meal and I do not think you will care for it,” her aunt responded.

“That isn’t fair. I normally enjoy Mrs. Beaton’s cooking.”

“Yes, but the soup this evening will be Sheep’s Head Broth,” her aunt said.

Elinor shrugged, trying to hide her apprehension. “That doesn’t seem so bad.”

Her aunt laughed. “Mrs. Beaton chose a large, fat, young sheep head from the blacksmith and soaked it for hours. Then, she removed the glassy part of the eyes and split the head with a cleaver…”

Putting her hand up to stop her aunt from speaking, Elinor said, “I am beginning to understand now.”

“It sounds terrible, but it is a favorite amongst the locals in the village,” her aunt shared.

“Dare I ask what is being served for the main course?” Elinor asked, her curiosity piqued.

Her aunt looked amused. “Roasted Fowl with Drappit Egg,” she replied. “It is a poached egg, but it is prepared in a lamb’s head. At least a lamb’s head is much smaller than a sheep’s.”

“Yes, how wonderful,” Elinor muttered.

Growing serious, her aunt reached into the folds of her gown and pulled out a letter. “You got a letter from your uncle.”

Elinor’s back grew rigid as she stared at the letter. “How did he find me?” she asked, feeling only dread.

“I don’t know, considering we were so careful,” her aunt replied. “Would you care to read it?”

“No,” came her blunt response, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Her aunt offered her a sympathetic look, her eyes softening. “Would you like me to read it, at least to see what he wants?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Elinor responded. “I already know what he wants, and I refuse to do it.”

“Perhaps he changed his mind,” her aunt suggested gently, though her expression conveyed doubt.

“My uncle is many things, but he is not one to change his mind. He is stubborn, almost to a fault,” Elinor insisted.

“It seems like you and he have something in common,” her aunt teased.

Elinor sighed. “I do not know how you can make jokes at a time like this,” she said. “My uncle has discovered where I am. What if he comes to retrieve me himself? I don’t think I could face him again.”

Her aunt slipped the letter back into the folds of her gown. “He won’t,” she replied. “Regardless, you have reached your majority. He can’t force you to do anything.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t keep trying,” Elinor said. She knew her uncle’s tenacity all too well, and the thought of him pursuing her filled her with dread.

A knock came at the door, interrupting their conversation.

Her aunt rose swiftly and walked over to the wall, where she pressed a hidden latch, revealing a narrow servants’ corridor.

Once her aunt disappeared within, closing the wall behind her, Elinor ordered, “Enter. ”

The door creaked opened and Mr. Dandridge stepped into the room. He glanced around, a puzzled expression on his face. “I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

“I was,” Elinor confirmed. “I was speaking to my aunt, but she left through the servants’ entrance.”

Mr. Dandridge seemed satisfied by her response, but his eyes held a flicker of uncertainty. “I just want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I had no right to yell at you, considering you were only trying to help me.”

Elinor felt a twinge of guilt at his words since she had been doing the opposite. “There is no need to apologize. I do think the other cottage will be much more to your liking.”

He approached the desk, his steps tentative, and gestured towards the chair. “May I?” he asked.

“You may,” Elinor responded, leaning back in her seat.

Mr. Dandridge sat down and turned his attention towards her. “When do you suppose I will be formally introduced to your aunt?”

“It is hard to say,” Elinor said. “She is rather peculiar when it comes to meeting new people, but I shall speak to her.”

A look of genuine admiration flickered in Mr. Dandridge’s eyes. “You are a good person to care for your aunt in such a fashion.”

Elinor let out a soft laugh. “I assure you that my aunt keeps me very entertained. I never quite know what she is going to do next, but I am most grateful for her companionship. She was the one who originally introduced me to Lady Edith. They are dear friends.”

“That does not surprise me,” Mr. Dandridge said in a low voice, almost as if speaking to himself.

She furrowed her brows. “Why do you say that?”

Mr. Dandridge shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “My great-aunt can be rather eccentric, and I have never had a close relationship with her. ”

“Yet she intends to give you her horse farm?” Elinor asked.

“I cannot say why that is, but it did come with stipulations,” Mr. Dandridge admitted. “Nothing is straightforward with my Great-aunt Edith.”

Elinor closed the ledger that was in front of her. “Does Lady Edith know you are seeking a marriage of convenience?”

“No, but I don’t know what else she expects,” Mr. Dandridge said, his frustration evident. “It is nearly impossible to fall in love in such a short time.”

“I am only saying as much because Lady Edith married for love and was blissfully happy with her husband,” Elinor pointed out.

Mr. Dandridge scoffed, his expression turning dismissive. “Yes, but she married a lowly merchant.”

Elinor stared back at him in disbelief. “I daresay that she is the lucky one. She followed her heart and found true happiness. Can you say the same?”

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “People in our positions must choose duty over the dictates of our hearts.”

“Is that what you truly believe?” Elinor asked.

“It is,” Mr. Dandridge confirmed.

Elinor rose, smoothing down her skirts. “I disagree, most ardently,” she responded, her voice firm. “If you will excuse me, I need to go speak to the cook.”

Mr. Dandridge met her gaze, confusion evident in his voice. “Did I say something wrong?”

Yes.

Everything out of his mouth was wrong.

Elinor forced a polite smile to her lips. “I do believe that one’s duty is to their heart.”

“It is not that simple,” Mr. Dandridge contended.

“I know, but it should be,” Elinor responded. She came around the desk and walked towards the door .

“May I review the ledgers before supper?” Mr. Dandridge called out to her.

Elinor paused by the door, her hand resting on the handle. “Be my guest,” she said before departing the study.

As she walked down the corridor, her thoughts raced, and she felt a sharp stab of disappointment. Mr. Dandridge, it seemed, was just like every other man of her acquaintance. They clung to the notion that duty was more important than following their own hearts. But she refused to marry anyone unless their hearts were involved.