Rules of a Ruse (Regency Christmas Brides #2)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

As Alden escorted Elinor to the drawing room, he sensed a subtle but significant shift between them. He still held out hope that he could convince Elinor to become his wife. They got along well enough, and, truth be told, he found her rather intriguing. The only problem was that she was against a marriage of convenience. She wanted love, and that was something he could not offer. To him, marriage was a simple business transaction, nothing more.

When they reached the doorway of the drawing room, Alden noticed a piece of mistletoe hanging above them. Elinor followed his gaze, and he saw her visibly tense.

Turning her to face him, Alden said, “We are under the mistletoe. You know what that means.”

“It means nothing,” Elinor replied firmly.

“No, it means we have to kiss.”

Elinor huffed. “We don’t have to do anything.”

Alden grinned, feeling the urge to tease her. “Careful, it almost seems like you don’t want to kiss me.”

“I can assure you that I do not.”

“I think you do. ”

Tilting her chin up defiantly, Elinor responded, “You would be mistaken.”

He leaned closer, their faces just inches apart. “Is the thought of kissing me so repulsive to you?” he asked softly.

“No, that is not it.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, his voice a low murmur as he edged even closer.

Elinor’s breath hitched, and her eyes dropped to his lips. “Must you stand so close?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Typically, people are close to one another when they kiss,” he replied in a hoarse voice. He wanted to kiss her, feel her lips on his, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

With great effort, he kissed her cheek and stepped back.

Elinor remained rooted in her spot, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said. Perhaps his simple kiss on her cheek had more of an effect on her than he thought it would.

“For what?” he asked.

She brought her hand up to her cheek, where his lips had just been. “For respecting me enough to listen to what I want,” she said.

“I will always listen to you,” he assured her. “But I do think there will come a time when you want to kiss me. Badly.”

“I do not think so.”

“No, it is true,” Alden said. “And when that happens, I will gladly oblige you.”

Elinor dropped her hand to her side. “You are being rather cocky, sir.”

“Am I?” he asked. “I merely speak the truth.”

“I will never kiss you.”

“Never say never,” Alden said with a smirk.

Elinor rolled her eyes. “You are impossible,” she said, her voice light, teasing .

Alden’s smirk grew. “Yet, you still haven’t moved from your spot under the mistletoe, making me wonder why that is.”

“I am just merely waiting for my aunt to join us for dinner,” Elinor said. “You could always move.”

“Why would I?” he asked. “I want to kiss you.”

Elinor stared back at him with disbelief. “Do you?”

“How can you even ask that question?” he inquired. “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss a beautiful young woman?”

She bit her lower lip. “I’m afraid I have only been kissed once and it did not go well. The duke’s breath smelled like garlic and his lips were hard.”

Alden’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a look of genuine concern. “I can see why you didn’t find that pleasant. However, kissing can be quite enjoyable.”

“I don’t see how,” she admitted.

Taking a step closer to Elinor, Alden gently ran his hand along her cheek. “Kissing is a way of expressing what you are truly feeling without using words.”

Elinor held his gaze, her blue eyes filled with vulnerability. “My mother did say that kissing my father was one of her favorite things to do.”

He chuckled. “That typically happens when you find the right person to kiss.”

“But what if you kiss me and I don’t like it?”

Alden moved closer, his movements slow and deliberate, waiting for any sign of discomfort from Elinor. “I promise that this time will be different. In fact, once you kiss me, you might never want to let me go. I am that good of a kisser.”

“I suppose one kiss won’t hurt,” Elinor whispered as she closed her eyes.

Just as their lips were about to touch, a high-pitched sound caused him to jump back. He turned his head to see Mrs. Hardy standing next to them with a set of bagpipes in her hands .

“I hope I am not intruding,” Mrs. Hardy said with a pointed look, clearly aware of what she had interrupted.

Elinor’s hands flew up to her reddening cheeks. “We were standing under the mistletoe?—”

“I know what you were doing,” Mrs. Hardy interrupted. “But perhaps we can adjourn to the dining room so I can serenade you with my playing.”

“Very well,” Elinor said as she went to stand by her aunt.

Alden followed closely behind them, wondering what in the blazes had just happened. He had almost kissed Elinor, and he found that he wanted to. Desperately. He had never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wanted to kiss her. There was something about Elinor that drew him in, and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to be let go.

Botheration.

This would not do. He just needed to convince her to marry him, not fall for her.

They arrived in the dining room, and he moved to pull out the chair for Elinor. She offered him a private smile and he was utterly charmed.

While he claimed his seat, Mrs. Hardy stood at the head of the table with the bagpipes, ready to play. “Now, please keep in mind that I am just a beginner.”

“I am sure it will be delightful,” Alden attempted.

Elinor met his gaze and shook her head.

Alden resisted the urge to smile before turning his attention back to Mrs. Hardy. She opened her mouth and proceeded to play. Loudly. And poorly. The shrill sound hurt his ears, but he tried to pretend that the noise didn’t bother him.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably just mere moments, Mrs. Hardy stopped playing and smiled. “What do you think?”

Terrible.

Awful .

But rather than insult her, he smiled and replied, “It was beautiful.”

Mrs. Hardy gave him a smug smile. “I have been told that I can pick up instruments rather easily.”

“That is evident by how well you play,” Alden said, attempting to sound sincere.

Elinor giggled and brought her hand up to her lips. “I’m sorry, but it sounded like you were trying to slaughter a cat.”

“Was it that bad?” Mrs. Hardy asked, her brow furrowing.

Alden cleared his throat. “Yes, but with the right teacher, you might be playing well in one or two… years.”

Mrs. Hardy removed the bagpipes from around her and handed them to a footman. “Well, that only gives me the motivation to keep trying,” she said as she went to sit down.

Elinor lowered her hand, her expression more serious. “I’m sorry. I hope I did not offend you.”

“You could do no such thing, my dear,” Mrs. Hardy said with a wave of her hand. “Besides, I know I need to practice more.”

Footmen stepped forward and placed bowls of soup in front of them. Alden glanced down, fearing the worst, but to his pleasant surprise, it was pea soup.

Elinor must have seen his reaction because she said, “I thought you might be tired of Scottish food.”

Alden reached for his spoon and dipped it in the soup. He brought it to his lips and savored the familiar taste. “It is delicious,” he acknowledged.

“Mrs. Beaton can cook a wide array of foods. All you have to do is ask,” Elinor informed him.

“Thank you,” Alden said.

Elinor held his gaze for a long moment before she turned her attention towards her soup, and he couldn’t help but notice the faint blush that colored her cheeks.

Turning towards him, Mrs. Hardy drew his attention by asking, “How did it go calling upon Mrs. MacBain? ”

“It went well, I suppose,” Alden responded.

Mrs. Hardy beamed, as if she were privy to a secret. “Isn’t Mrs. MacBain a delight?”

“She is something, all right,” Alden muttered. He truly didn’t want to delve further into the topic with Mrs. Hardy.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Hardy said. “Well, you will greatly enjoy Miss Isobel Fraser’s company. She is quite an accomplished singer.”

Elinor spoke up. “Yes, she often performs for the village.”

Alden placed his spoon next to his empty bowl. He hadn’t realized how hungry he had been until that precise moment. He found that he was not terribly fond of Scottish food and preferred the comforts of British food.

With a glance at his bowl, Elinor asked, “Would you care for more?”

“No, thank you,” Alden replied.

“I will inform Mrs. Beaton that you enjoyed the soup,” Elinor said.

Alden reluctantly dropped his gaze with Elinor, wondering what was going on with him. He found that he enjoyed being in Elinor’s company far too much. Which would not do. He would need to be mindful to guard his heart, a heart that was supposed to be impenetrable.

The morning sun streamed into Elinor’s bedchamber, casting a warm glow over her room as she lay in bed. She had slept restlessly, her dreams dominated by thoughts of Alden. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him, becoming a rather bothersome presence. If she had her way, he would pack his trunks and leave the horse farm once and for all.

But he wouldn’t do that .

It appeared that he wanted this horse farm as much as she did.

Elinor’s mind kept replaying the moment they almost kissed. His breath had been warm, pleasantly free of any garlic scent, and his lips had looked so inviting, almost intoxicating. She had wanted to kiss him, and would have, if her aunt hadn’t interrupted them. This would not do!

She needed to stop thinking about Alden and focus on getting him to leave. It was the simplest solution, especially since he wanted to sell the horse farm. If that happened, she and her aunt would be kicked out of their home. She couldn’t let that happen.

A knock came at the door before it was pushed open, revealing Sophia. “Good morning,” she greeted. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept well,” she lied, forcing a smile.

“Shall we dress you for the day?” Sophia asked, walking over to the wardrobe. She pulled out a pale pink gown. “I do believe this dress will do nicely. What do you think?”

Elinor shrugged. “I do not care what dress I wear.”

“You might not, but perhaps Mr. Dandridge will,” Sophia responded with mirth in her voice. “I heard he was rather attentive to you last night.”

“He was no such thing.”

Sophia came to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Didn’t you two almost kiss under the mistletoe?”

Elinor pressed her lips together. “How did you hear about that?”

“The whole manor is talking about it,” Sophia declared. “It is not every day that the mistress of the manor has a handsome suitor.”

“Mr. Dandridge is not my suitor,” Elinor insisted.

Sophia winked. “Yes, Miss.”

With a slight groan, Elinor asked, “Why don’t you believe me? ”

“Because your actions and words are saying two different things,” Sophia declared, rising. “What is wrong with having a harmless flirtation with Mr. Dandridge?”

Elinor moved to place her legs over the side of the bed. “Mr. Dandridge and I just got caught up in the moment.”

Sophia winked again. “Yes, Miss.”

“Will you stop winking at me?” Elinor asked, exasperated. “You must trust me that nothing is going on between Mr. Dandridge and me.”

“All right,” Sophia said. “I will drop it… for now.”

Elinor rose and sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

Sophia laid the dress onto the bed. “Is there something wrong with Mr. Dandridge?” she asked. “Does he have only one leg or does his breath smell?”

“Nothing is wrong with Mr. Dandridge,” Elinor asserted.

“Then why do you insist that you don’t have any interest in him?” Sophia inquired.

Elinor sat down in front of the dressing table and reached for a brush. “He wants to marry for convenience, and I will only marry for love.”

“Could it not turn into love?” Sophia asked.

“What if it doesn’t?”

Sophia walked over and held her hand out for the brush. “You are many things, but a fortune teller is not one of them. Who knows what your future holds for you?”

Elinor removed the cap off the top of her head and placed it onto the dressing table. “Regardless, Mr. Dandridge wants to sell the horse farm. I can’t allow that to happen. Lady Edith would be furious to know of his intentions.”

“Can’t you convince him otherwise?”

“How?” Elinor asked.

Sophia placed a hand on her hip and said, “Waggle your child-bearing hips around until he can think of little else.”

“That is utterly ridiculous. ”

“Is it?” Sophia asked. “Mr. Dandridge already seems rather taken by you.”

The door opened and Aunt Cecilia stepped into the room. “Mr. Dandridge has arrived for breakfast. I told him you would be down shortly.”

Sophia made quick work as she placed Elinor’s hair up into an elegant chignon. “Now on to your gown.”

Once Elinor was dressed, she departed from her bedchamber and walked with her aunt down the hall.

Her aunt glanced her way. “Are you truly going to introduce him to Miss Fraser?” she inquired, her brow furrowed.

“There is nothing wrong with Miss Fraser,” Elinor defended. “Besides, she is of marriageable age and is seeking a suitor. That is precisely what Mr. Dandridge is looking for.”

“True,” her aunt conceded, “but if you keep being so obvious about your intentions, he might catch on.”

Elinor came to a stop and turned to face her aunt. “It is hardly obvious.”

Her aunt gave her a knowing look. “Mrs. MacBain is desperate and would marry a scarecrow, assuming it came with money.”

“Isobel is not desperate.”

“Yet,” her aunt pointed out. “The son of an earl is sniffing around this village and any one of these girls might gladly marry him.”

Elinor frowned, crossing her arms. “Mr. Dandridge is not sniffing around.”

Her aunt leaned forward and patted her cheek. “Of course not,” she replied. “That is because you are enamored with him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not this again,” she muttered as she continued down the hall.

As she descended the stairs, she saw Mr. Dandridge was standing in the entry hall, his hands clasped behind his back, looking deucedly handsome .

“Good morning,” Alden greeted.

Elinor came to a stop in front of him, a smile playing on her lips. “Good morning,” she said. “I do hope your cottage is still to your liking.”

Alden nodded. “Yes, I have not encountered a single massive spider since I arrived.”

“Just wait,” Elinor teased.

“I would prefer not to,” Alden responded. “Besides, your servants do a commendable job of scouring the cottage looking for any spiders.”

Elinor felt her smile grow. “That is good to hear. I want you to be comfortable at the cottage.”

Alden offered his arm. “Shall we adjourn to the dining room?”

With a glance over her shoulder, she said, “My aunt was right behind me, but I do not see her now.”

“Perhaps she will meet us in the dining room,” he suggested.

As he led her towards the dining room, Elinor asked, “Are you looking forward to meeting Miss Fraser today?”

“I am,” Alden replied. “And who knows, she might be the next Mrs. Dandridge.”

“Yes, wouldn’t that be wonderful,” Elinor muttered. The thought of Alden marrying anyone seemed to bother her. But she couldn’t say as to why that was. She had no designs on him.

Alden eyed her curiously. “Unless you are interested in the position?”

Elinor huffed. “I already told you?—”

“I know, but I am not going to stop asking,” Alden said, interrupting her. “I think we would be good together. Don’t you?”

“Marriage is so much more than being good together,” Elinor remarked. “What of love?”

Alden’s expression shifted, humor replaced by something more solemn. “What of it?” he asked. “You speak of it as if it is the glue to hold a relationship together. But I believe it is more of mutual toleration.”

“Mutual toleration? That is romantic,” Elinor mocked.

Alden stopped and gently turned her to face him. “For a brief time, my parents fancied themselves in love, yet it led them to nothing but resentment. They prefer the company of others now.”

“Not all marriages are like that,” Elinor contended.

His eyes grew guarded. “Why?” he scoffed. “Because of your parents’ example? They died too young. If they had lived longer, they would have grown to despise one another.”

Elinor’s eyes grew wide, disbelief washing over her. How could Alden say something so cruel to her? “That is awful of you to say,” she admonished.

“It is the truth,” he replied, his tone unwavering.

“No, it is your truth, and you are wrong about my parents,” Elinor stated. “They loved each other until their last breaths.”

Alden ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “You are so naive in the ways of the world. Why would I expect you to understand?”

Elinor took a step closer to him, her chin tilted. “I’m sorry that your parents were terrible examples, but that doesn’t give you the right to try to malign my parents’ memory,” she said. “And as for being naive, I freely admit that I am. I have lived a life that most people would dream of.”

“Well, I hope that you can join us in the real world someday,” Alden stated with a slight bow.

“You are a muttonhead,” Elinor said.

He grinned. “A muttonhead?” he asked. “Does your aunt know that you use such foul language?”

“In this case, I think she would encourage me to do so,” Elinor responded.

“Elinor…” he sighed, his grin fading. “I don’t want to fi ght with you. We will just have to agree to disagree on this subject.”

She took a step back. “I think that is fair, but I still won’t marry you.”

“You do realize that I am a son of an earl.”

“Is that supposed to impress me?” she challenged.

“No, but it should persuade you, at least a little,” Alden responded with a smug smile. “And imagine our children. They would be so attractive that they would outshine all other infants.”

Elinor laughed. “Aren’t all babies a blessing?”

“Are they?” Alden asked. “I would think no one would willingly want an ugly baby.”

“Now you are just spouting nonsense,” Elinor said. “Let us enjoy breakfast before we must leave to call on Miss Fraser.”