Rules of a Ruse (Regency Christmas Brides #2)

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Alden’s eyes flew open as he lay in bed, the peace of early morning shattered by an obnoxious, blaring sound. He groaned, throwing off his blankets and walking over to the window to see what had disturbed his slumber.

Pulling aside the heavy drapes, he peered outside and saw Mrs. Hardy standing a short distance away, playing the bagpipes. Good gads! What was she thinking playing the bagpipes at such an early hour and so close to his cottage?

A brisk knock came at the door before it was opened, revealing his valet. “I see that you are awake,” Hastings said, stepping inside.

“How could I not be with that infernal racket?” Alden asked as he turned to face his valet. “I suppose I should get ready for the day.”

Hastings walked over to the wardrobe and retrieved his clothing. As he laid the clothing onto the bed, he asked, “Dare I ask if you have convinced Miss Sidney to marry you?”

“No, not yet,” Alden admitted, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “She is adamant that she will only marry for love.”

“And you can’t give her that? ”

Alden looked at Hastings like he was a simpleton. “Of course not! Everyone knows that there is no place for love in a marriage.”

“I love my wife,” Hastings said simply.

“But for how long?” Alden questioned. “Eventually, you will tire of her.”

Hastings grinned. “Considering I have been married for ten years now, I think it is going well for us.”

Alden walked over to the bed and began dressing. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I cannot risk it.”

“May I speak freely, sir?” Hastings asked, his tone respectful yet insistent.

Pulling his shirt over his head, Alden said, “I would prefer it.”

“I think you should open your heart to Miss Sidney and see what happens,” Hastings remarked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you smile every time you say her name,” Hastings pointed out.

Alden reached for the cravat, finding his valet’s observations utterly ridiculous. He didn’t smile when he said Elinor’s name. Did he? “Regardless, that doesn’t mean I love her.”

“I never said you did, but I think she means more to you than you are letting on,” Hastings said.

“But she wants nothing to do with me,” Alden remarked as he walked over to the mirror to adjust his cravat.

“Then change her mind.”

Alden’s hands paused as he met Hastings’ gaze in the mirror. “And how, pray tell, do I do that?”

Hastings smiled. “Convince her that you are worth taking a chance on,” he said.

“Don’t you think I have been trying to do just that?”

Reaching for the jacket on the bed, Hastings walked it over to Alden. “I think you should try to make her jealous. ”

Alden accepted the jacket. “And how do I go about doing that?”

“You should take a sudden interest in one of the young women that Miss Sidney introduced you to,” Hastings responded.

“That is quite impossible, considering I would not suit with Mrs. MacBain or Miss Fraser,” Alden said.

Hastings shrugged, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Sometimes the impossible is what makes the game interesting,” he said. “What about Miss Cowen? Is Miss Sidney not introducing you to her today?”

“Yes, but I have no idea what she is like,” Alden said.

“Does it matter?” Hastings inquired. “It is not as if you have to marry the young woman.”

Alden slipped the jacket on. “And what if Miss Sidney doesn’t care that I am showing interest in Miss Cowen?”

“She will,” Hastings said confidently. “It has been my experience that people tend to want what they can’t have.”

“It just seems like a game that I don’t want to play,” Alden remarked.

Hastings picked up the discarded clothing from the floor. “Courting is a game, one that you intend to win,” he said. “Besides, what do you have to lose?”

Alden winced as the bagpipe music seemed to grow louder, making it almost impossible to think. “I hate bagpipes,” he muttered.

“I rather enjoy them, but Mrs. Hardy is awful,” Hastings remarked.

“She just started playing.”

Hastings glanced at the window. “Dying animals sound better than her playing the bagpipes.”

Alden chuckled. “I agree, wholeheartedly.” He walked over to the door. “I am going to ask her to stop.”

“I wish you luck,” Hastings said.

As Alden departed from his bedchamber, he headed down the stairs and stepped out into the chilly morning air. He approached Mrs. Hardy from behind. He didn’t wish to startle her, so he gently tapped her on the shoulder.

Mrs. Hardy stopped playing the bagpipes and let out a slight scream. She turned around and her eyes grew wide. “Mr. Dandridge, you frightened me.”

“I’m sorry. That was not my intention,” Alden said. “May I ask why you are playing the bagpipes at such an early hour?”

Mrs. Hardy smiled. “I thought you might enjoy waking up to the soothing sounds of the bagpipes.”

Alden resisted the urge to laugh. There was nothing soothing about the bagpipes, especially when Mrs. Hardy played them. “That was kind of you,” he said.

“Shall I keep playing?” Mrs. Hardy asked, bringing the reed to her lips.

“Good heavens, no!” Alden rushed out. “I mean… you have already played for so long. I don’t want you to get tired.”

Mrs. Hardy bobbed her head. “Perhaps I should stop for a little while and catch my breath.”

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” Alden said. “May I escort you back to the manor?”

“Yes, the coach is just around the bend,” Mrs. Hardy replied.

As they started walking towards the coach, Alden asked, “Do you enjoy playing the bagpipes?”

“I do, and I think I am getting quite good at it,” Mrs. Hardy replied.

Alden didn’t dare contradict her, but he suspected she was getting worse with every blow into the reed. “Well, practice does make perfect.”

Mrs. Hardy beamed. “I will be happy to wake you up tomorrow with the bagpipes.”

“That is kind of you to offer, but I prefer to wake up gradually,” Alden responded .

“I understand,” Mrs. Hardy said. “Furthermore, tomorrow is Christmas.”

Alden glanced over at her. “I had almost forgotten about Christmas.”

Mrs. Hardy gave him an understanding look. “You must be sad to not be with your family for Christmas.”

“Quite the contrary, I’m afraid. My family does not make a big ado out of Christmas,” Alden admitted. “It is just another day.”

“That is a shame,” Mrs. Hardy responded. “I do want to thank you for convincing Elinor to decorate the manor for the holiday.”

Alden brushed off her praise. “It was nothing.”

“It was more than nothing,” Mrs. Hardy remarked. “I have been trying since we moved here but Elinor had been insistent. She keeps up a strong facade, but I know she is hurting. Deeply. Christmas is hard on her.”

“She has told me as much.”

Mrs. Hardy tipped her head. “Elinor must trust you if she is willing to confide in you,” she said.

“We are friends.”

“I see,” Mrs. Hardy said as she approached the coach. Alden held his hand out to assist her inside. Once she was situated, he climbed in and sat across from her. He reached for the blanket and placed it onto Mrs. Hardy’s lap.

The coach began moving and Alden turned his attention towards the window. He watched the horses grazing in the distance.

Mrs. Hardy’s voice broke the silence. “It is rather idyllic, is it not?”

“It is,” Alden was forced to admit.

“I hope you don’t mind but Elinor told me that you intend to sell the horse farm once you are married,” Mrs. Hardy said. “I do believe that is a mistake.”

Alden brought his gaze to meet hers. “Do you now? ”

“I do, and that is because Elinor loves this horse farm,” Mrs. Hardy replied. “It is a part of her.”

“I respect that, but I must do what is the best for me,” Alden said.

Mrs. Hardy considered him for a moment before saying, “That is the problem. You are only thinking about yourself.”

“Who else would I think about?” Alden asked, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

As she removed the bagpipes off her shoulders, Mrs. Hardy replied, “There comes a point in our lives when we must realize what is worth fighting for.”

Alden lifted his brow. “And what should I fight for?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Mrs. Hardy replied. “Everyone must decide that for themselves.”

“What do you fight for?” Alden asked, genuinely curious.

Mrs. Hardy smiled. “That is easy,” she replied. “I fight for my niece, Elinor. We help one another, but I suspect she doesn’t need me as much as I need her.”

The coach came to a stop in front of the manor and a footman came around to open the door. After Mrs. Hardy stepped out, he followed her onto solid ground, feeling the cool morning air on his face.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go lie down since I woke up entirely too early to play for you,” Mrs. Hardy said as they stepped into the entry hall. “You might be interested to know that Elinor is in her study.”

“At this hour?”

Mrs. Hardy laughed. “She lives and breathes for this horse farm. You would be wise to remember that.”

Alden didn’t need to be told twice. He found he was rather eager to see Elinor this morning. Quite frankly, he was eager to see her all the time. She was giving him far too many reasons to smile, which was beginning to be problematic.

Elinor sat at the desk as she reviewed the accounts. The early morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over the papers strewn across her desk. Tomorrow was Christmas, and though memories kept flooding her mind, she repeatedly pushed them away, determined to focus on her tasks.

Alden’s voice broke through the silence. “Good morning,” he greeted.

She looked up, surprised to see him leaning against the door frame, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked.

He pushed off from the door frame and walked closer to the desk. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “There is always something to do.”

“I wish that was my reason to be awake, but it is because your aunt was playing the bagpipes just outside of my window,” Alden shared.

Elinor grinned. “That sounds like my aunt.”

With a glance over his shoulder, Alden asked, “Which one of us is going to tell her that she is awful?”

“That is not a conversation I wish to have with her.”

Alden sighed, taking a seat in the chair facing the desk. “Neither do I. When are we going to call upon Miss Cowen?”

“After breakfast, assuming that is all right with you,” Elinor responded.

“It is,” Alden said. He then studied her intently. “How are you faring?”

“I am well,” she answered, her tone was less convincing than she hoped.

Alden’s gaze didn’t waver. “Are you?” he asked gently. “I only ask because tomorrow is Christmas and I know that this time of year is hard for you.”

Elinor felt her back grow rigid. “I will be fine.”

“It is all right if you aren’t,” Alden said.

“I said I will be fine,” she responded curtly. She didn’t want to have this conversation with him… with anyone, for that matter.

Alden put his hand up. “I did not mean to upset you,” he said. “But if you wish to talk, I am here to listen.”

Elinor knew that Alden was only trying to help so she softened her tone. “That is kind of you, but I just try to keep myself busy around this time. The less I think of it, the better.”

“I think that is a mistake,” he said.

“Do you?” Elinor asked, her voice holding a warning. “And why, pray tell, is that?”

Alden continued. “I think it is best if you talk about your loved ones that have passed on. It helps you remember them.”

Elinor scoffed. “You would know this how?”

His eyes grew sad. “I have lost loved ones over the years and each loss leaves an imprint on my soul.”

“I’m sorry,” Elinor responded.

“What was your mother like?” he asked.

She closed the ledger in front of her and abruptly rose. “I can’t do this now,” she said, her voice strained. “Shall we adjourn to the dining room?”

“We can, but I still would like to know,” Alden insisted.

Elinor hesitated, then slowly returned to her seat. “My mother was my best friend. It didn’t start off that way. When I was younger, I thought she was the fun killer, but I have since learned that it was her way of protecting me.”

“Fun killer?” Alden asked, his lips twitching.

A smile played on Elinor’s lips. “Yes, someone that kills all the fun. You must understand that I was rather adventurous when I was a child and spent most of my time in the woodlands.”

Alden laughed. “That does not surprise me in the least.”

“When I was younger, I started riding my horse without a saddle,” Elinor admitted. “My mother was mortified and forbid me from doing so.”

“You must have been quite the handful,” Alden quipped.

Elinor nodded. “I was, considering I wore men’s clothing and rode astride.”

Alden’s smile widened. “That does not surprise me at all.”

A smile tugged at Elinor’s lips as she remembered. “My mother just wanted to keep me safe, even when I was determined to be reckless,” she said. “But what I miss the most about her is how she looked at me. Her eyes always told me that she loved me, even when her words did not.”

Settling back in his seat, Alden asked, “And what of your father?”

Her smile grew even more. “My father was the reason I was so reckless. He convinced me that I could do anything if I put my mind to it. He was my greatest supporter, and I loved our rides together.”

In a gentle voice, Alden asked, “How did they die?”

Her face fell. “Consumption.”

“I’m sorry,” Alden said.

“There is nothing worse than watching your parents waste away until they take their last breaths,” Elinor said, her voice trembling as she fought back the tears. “My father was the first to go.”

Alden leaned forward in his seat, his eyes filled with compassion. “I know it is not the same, but my grandmother died from consumption. I held her hand until the very end.”

“Were you close to your grandmother?” Elinor asked.

“I was,” Alden confirmed. “She didn’t look at me like the spare. She loved me for who I was, and not my position at birth. ”

Elinor nodded in understanding. “My parents never made me feel less since I wasn’t born a male.”

“I’m glad,” Alden said.

“Just so you know, I am glad that we are friends,” Elinor responded. “I don’t have very many of those, at least not anymore. Most of my friends abandoned me when I refused to marry the duke.”

“That was wrong of them.”

Elinor shook her head. “I don’t blame them. I was a walking scandal and that is the last thing a woman in the ton wishes to be around.”

“How is it that you escaped my notice when you debuted?” Alden asked.

She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know, but I did not spend much time with rakes.”

“I am not a rake,” he defended.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Elinor laughed. “I believe you, but you were rather cocky when we first met, irritatingly so.”

“And now?”

Rising, Elinor smoothed down her pale pink gown. “You are much more tolerable.”

Alden rose with her. “Only tolerable?”

Elinor came around her desk and stood in front of him, a playful smile on her lips. “You still vex me.”

“I have to keep things interesting between us,” Alden responded as he offered his arm. “Shall we adjourn to the dining room now?”

She took his arm, and the smell of lavender drifted off her person. He resisted the urge to lean closer to her.

As they walked towards the dining room, Elinor asked, “Do you have any Christmas traditions that I should know about? ”

“I’m afraid not,” Alden responded. “I have spent more Christmases alone than with my family.”

“That is awful.”

“No, it is familiar,” Alden said. “I don’t know what I would do if my parents suddenly wished to spend time with me.”

Elinor glanced over at him, her eyes softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she said, knowing her words were wholly inadequate.

“Do not feel bad for me. I have learned to make do,” Alden remarked. “I prefer spending Christmas alone.”

“Well, you aren’t going to be alone tomorrow. We will spend the day together,” Elinor insisted.

Alden tipped his head. “I have no objections.”

“Good, because you have little choice in the matter,” Elinor joked. “What should we do? We could start with a morning ride?”

“In this weather? I think not,” Alden asked.

Elinor stepped into the dining room and dropped Alden’s arm. “It is not that bad,” she attempted as she went to sit down.

Alden claimed the seat next to her. “Although, going on a morning ride does sound more enjoyable than listening to your aunt playing the bagpipes.”

“You make a good point,” Elinor said, reaching for a cup of chocolate. “And I will be sure to protect you from any spiders we see.”

“How are you not afraid of spiders?”

Elinor took a sip and returned the cup to her saucer. “Oh, I am terrified of them. I just had to tease you about them.”

Alden chuckled. “So you recognize how immensely large house spiders are?”

“They are ginormous,” Elinor declared. “I once woke up to one that was in the corner of my canopy bed. I think I woke the whole household with my screams. ”

He tsked. “Yet you made me believe I was the only one who was afraid of them.”

“I had to humble you one way or another.”

Shifting in his seat, Alden asked, “Why did you need to humble me?”

“You were just like every gentleman in high Society when you first arrived,” Elinor responded. “Cocky. Inconsiderate. Thinking you were god’s gift to women.”

“And now?”

Elinor met his gaze. “I told you- you are tolerable now.”

He huffed. “I am more than tolerable.”

“What are you then?”

Alden considered her for a moment before saying, “I am chivalrous, and I have refined manners.”

“Says the man that is afraid of spiders and was screaming about them like a lunatic,” Elinor retorted.

“It is hardly my fault. I could have put a saddle on that spider and ridden it,” Alden said.

Elinor laughed loudly. “That is absurd.”

“Perhaps, but I prefer the small spiders in England.”

A footman placed a plate of food down in front of them and Elinor reached for her fork and knife.

Alden took a sip of his drink before placing it back down onto the table. “This is nice,” he admitted. “I haven’t enjoyed myself like this in a long time.”

“Nor I,” Elinor agreed.

He held her gaze for a moment before saying, “I am glad that we are friends, Elinor.”

Friends .

Yes, that is what she wanted to be.

So why was her heart pounding in her chest?

Elinor lowered her gaze to her plate, not understanding the churning of emotions within her. No good would come from allowing her feelings to deepen for Alden. Yet her treacherous heart did not seem to listen- or care.