Rules of a Ruse (Regency Christmas Brides #2)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Alden stared out the window of his bedchamber, watching the snow gently blanket the fields. Today was Christmas. He had every reason to celebrate but his thoughts kept turning to Elinor. She had managed to bewitch him, and now his heart was turning towards hers. A heart that was supposed to be impenetrable.

The door creaked open and Hastings stepped into the room. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted.

“Good morning,” Alden muttered, his gaze still fixed on the falling snow.

Hastings approached the wardrobe, selecting Alden’s attire for the day. “The coach should be arriving soon to take you to the church.”

“Wonderful,” Alden said, his tone flat.

After Hastings removed the clothing from the wardrobe, he placed them on the bed. “I do believe a green jacket and a red waistcoat would be most festive today. What do you think?”

Alden shrugged. “I care little about that.”

“Is there something on your mind, sir?” Hastings asked .

Turning to meet his valet’s gaze, Alden asked, “Why can’t women be more predictable?”

Hastings responded with an understanding smile. “If that was the case, life would be very boring. I take it this is about Lady Elinor.”

“It is. She is maddening,” Alden said as he walked over to the bed.

“Women usually are, especially when you have feelings for them,” Hastings remarked knowingly.

Alden shifted uncomfortably. “I may have some feelings for her, but that is not what is important.”

“Of course it is important,” Hastings countered. “And I do believe your feelings are much deeper than you care to admit.”

“No, that is impossible. Women love me, not the other way around,” Alden remarked.

Hastings grinned. “Is it possible that you have finally met your match?”

As Alden started dressing, he grew quiet. Was Elinor his match? No, that could not be. He wanted to marry her only because he wanted this horse farm. Yet, the thought of waking up next to her every morning held an undeniable appeal.

Botheration.

Hastings was right. He cared deeply for Elinor. But love? That was impossible. He couldn’t- no, he wouldn’t- fall in love with Elinor.

Hastings stepped forward, offering Alden the cravat. “With all due respect, I do believe your silence speaks volumes.”

Alden accepted the cravat, tying it with a deft hand. “You may be right,” he admitted. “I care for Elinor, but I won’t fall in love with her.”

“I never said anything about love, sir,” Hastings pointed out .

“Good, because it is foolish to even think about such a thing,” Alden responded.

Hastings tipped his head in agreement. “However, what do you intend to do with the horse farm if you convince Lady Elinor to marry you?”

Alden frowned. “I want to sell it, but I suspect Elinor wouldn’t marry me if I did such a thing.”

“Most likely,” Hastings said, “and Scotland is growing on me.”

No truer words had ever been said. When Alden had first arrived, he couldn’t wait to leave this blasted country, but now he found the horse farm a reprieve from life, just as Elinor had. What was happening to him? He had a plan. But his plan was shifting, and it was all because of Elinor.

Alden walked over to the mirror and adjusted his cravat. “Regardless, I am not quite sure I can convince Elinor to marry me since she wants love,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.

Hastings looked amused. “I am sure you will find a way.”

“I wish I had your optimism,” Alden sighed.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation and Hastings crossed the room to answer it. A footman stood there, announcing, “The coach is out front, sir. The driver is ready to take you to the church.”

“Thank you,” Alden acknowledged, casting one last critical glance at his reflection. Everything was in place, but he couldn’t help wondering if Elinor would find him lacking.

Once the footman departed, Hastings held the door open for Alden. “If I may be so bold, I have noticed how happy you seem lately. I suspect it has much to do with Lady Elinor.”

Alden nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. “You are right,” he admitted. “Elinor does make me immensely happy- far happier than I have ever been.”

Hastings lowered his voice. “I have heard rumors from the servants at the manor that say you have almost kissed Lady Elinor on multiple occasions.”

“Yes, that is true,” Alden admitted as he approached the door. “But I won’t kiss her unless she is truly ready. I am attempting to be a gentleman.”

“Well, Christmas is a day of miracles, sir,” Hastings remarked.

Alden chuckled, a genuine warmth spreading through him. “For the first time, in a long time, I find that I suspect I am going to enjoy this holiday.”

Hastings smiled. “I wish you luck, sir.”

As Alden approached his door, a thought occurred to him. He stopped and turned to face his valet. “I am sorry that I took you away from your wife on Christmas.”

“I am most fortunate to have a very understanding wife,” Hastings said with a reflective look in his eyes. “We will celebrate once I return home.”

“I do appreciate all that you do for me,” Alden remarked.

Hastings tipped his head in acknowledgement. “It has been a pleasure to serve you, sir, and I hope you find what you seek. Now, you must hurry if you don’t want to be late for the church service.”

Once Alden departed from his bedchamber, he made his way to the awaiting coach. He settled back into his seat and watched the snow create a picturesque white wonderland outside the window. The snowflakes clung to the ground, and he found himself smiling at the serene beauty of it all.

He could be happy here. With Elinor. In truth, he could be happy anywhere as long as she was by his side. He just wanted to be with her.

And then the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

He was halfway in love with her.

Good gads! What had he done? Had he not just resolved to not fall in love? Love would complicate a marriage between them, and he didn’t need any more complications in his life.

The coach came to a stop in front of a quaint stone church, and he watched as the parishioners filed inside.

His mind churned with emotions. What was he going to do? He couldn’t possibly admit such feelings to Elinor, not when they were likely unrequited. He couldn’t even convince her to kiss him, let alone marry him.

But then he saw her. Elinor stepped gracefully out of a coach, dressed in a pale green gown that accentuated her delicate features. Her hair was styled in an elegant chignon, and her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink from the morning chill. She looked every bit the enchanting vision that had captivated his heart.

In that moment, he knew everything would be all right. When he was around Elinor, he felt calm, at peace. She allowed him to be who he truly was, not the persona he adopted to fit into high Society.

Alden departed the coach and approached her. “Good morning, Lady Elinor,” he greeted with a warm smile.

“Good morning,” she responded, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. Or had he just imagined that? He hoped not.

He stopped in front of her, being mindful to maintain a proper distance. “I trust that you slept well.”

A slight furrow appeared between her brows. “I did not go to bed until late. My uncle was relentless in trying to convince me to marry the duke,” she shared with a weary sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Alden responded, his heart aching for her. “I can only imagine how difficult that must have been.

“It matters not since I refuse to marry the duke and be added to his collection of fine things,” Elinor remarked.

“I think you are wise to do so.”

“My uncle says I am stupid to pass on such an advantageous marriage,” Elinor shared .

Alden smirked. “Well, if I may say, your uncle is a muttonhead,” he responded.

Elinor laughed, and the sound was like music to his soul. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said. “Although, I am sorry he said such hurtful things about you last night during supper.”

“It is all right. I have come to see that Lord Inglewood and I will never see eye to eye on most things,” Alden remarked.

“I do believe that is a good thing,” Elinor retorted with a wry smile.

Alden glanced over her shoulder before revealing, “Your uncle was right about one thing, though. I couldn’t hack being a barrister.”

“That can’t be true…”

He cut her off gently. “No, it is true,” he said. “I just wanted to uphold the law and defend my clients. Unfortunately, there are a lot of politics that go hand in hand with being a barrister, and I refused to play that game.”

Elinor bobbed her head in understanding. “Then you made the right choice. You must do what your conscience dictates.”

“Your uncle doesn’t see it that way,” Alden pointed out.

“Well, as you said so yourself, my uncle is a muttonhead,” Elinor said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I tend to disregard most of what he says.”

Alden offered his arm. “May I escort you inside for the service?”

“I would greatly appreciate that,” she replied, taking his arm.

As they entered the church, Alden saw that it was crowded, but he managed to find two seats in a pew near the back. They were just settling in when a familiar voice called out, “Mr. Dandridge!”

Alden turned to see Mrs. MacBain waving at him from the front of the church. He tipped his head in acknowledgement, hoping that was the end of it. Unfortunately, he was not so lucky.

Mrs. MacBain rose and walked around the pews to stand next to him. “I hope you are having a fine Christmas.”

“I am,” he replied. “And you?”

She batted her eyelashes at him. “I hope that you might find the time to come to call upon me today.”

“I… uh…” he started, struggling to find a polite way to decline.

Elinor spoke up. “Unfortunately, today will be rather busy since my uncle is in town and we are having a Christmas feast.”

Mrs. MacBain’s face fell. “Tomorrow, then?”

Fortunately, the vicar walked to the front of the room, indicating the service was about to begin. With a slight curtsy, Mrs. MacBain returned to her seat.

Leaning closer to Elinor, Alden said in a hushed voice, “Thank you.”

She playfully nudged his shoulder with hers. “It is the least I could do, considering it is Christmas,” she said. “Now, do try to listen to the service. You might learn something.”

Alden tried to focus on the vicar’s words, but the scent of lavender drifting from Elinor made it difficult. How could he concentrate on anything else when all he wanted was to pull her into his arms and kiss her?

Blazes.

This was going to be a long service.

Elinor stood back, watching the servants partake in the grand feast. The lively chatter and clinking of glasses filled the room, bringing warmth and joy. She had missed this. Greatly. Her mother had always said that Christmas was a time for others, but Elinor had been so focused on herself lately that she had forgotten what truly mattered.

Her gaze drifted to Alden, who was mingling with the servants, looking entirely too dashing for his own good. She was in trouble. The more time she spent with Alden, the more her heart turned towards him. Not that she wanted to fall for anyone. No. She was doing just fine on her own.

But she knew that wasn’t true.

She loved running a horse farm, but she wanted more. A husband. Children. And the worst part was, whenever she dreamed of having a family, her mind always conjured up the image of Alden.

Her aunt approached her with a drink in her hand. “Are you not hungry?”

“I was just woolgathering,” Elinor admitted.

“Anything you wish to share?” her aunt asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Elinor shook her head. “No, it was just nonsensical stuff.”

“Those are the best kind of thoughts,” her aunt teased with a smile. “I haven’t seen your uncle all day. With any luck, he will give up and pack his trunks.”

“I do not think he will go so easily,” Elinor remarked, her tone tinged with worry.

Her aunt frowned. “That is what I am worried about, as well,” she said.

As if their words had summoned her uncle, he stepped into the room with Constable Gregor, who wore a solemn expression.

Her uncle closed the distance between them and said, “Let us speak privately about an urgent matter.”

Aunt Cecilia stepped between them. “What urgent matter, my lord?” she asked. “And why is Constable Gregor here?”

His eyes flashed with annoyance. “It is none of your business, Woman. This is between Elinor and me. ”

Not wishing to cause a scene, Elinor spoke up. “We can speak in the drawing room,” she said.

Her uncle took a step back and gestured towards the doorway. As she turned to leave, she caught Alden’s eyes and she saw the questions deep within. She tilted her chin, encouraging him to join them. Whatever her uncle had to say to her, he could do so in front of Alden.

Elinor headed towards the drawing room and came to a stop in the center of the room. Alden stepped into the room and approached her. “What is going on?” he asked in a hushed voice.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but my uncle said he needed to speak to me about an urgent matter.”

“On Christmas?” Alden asked, his brow furrowing.

Her uncle stepped into the room and narrowed his eyes at Alden. “You may leave, Mr. Dandridge. This does not concern you.”

Elinor took a step closer to him. “I want him to stay.”

Looking displeased, her uncle said, “Suit yourself.”

Her aunt entered the room, her eyes immediately meeting Constable Gregor’s gaze. “How is your family?” she asked.

The constable looked deucedly uncomfortable, shuffling his feet. “Aye, they’re weel,” he responded, his voice a low rumble.

Turning towards Lord Inglewood, her aunt’s tone hardened. “Now, what is this all about, my lord?”

With a flourish, Lord Inglewood reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two pieces of paper. “I have two doctors that have confirmed that my niece, Lady Elinor, is suffering from hysteria. Constable Gregor is here to ensure she is transported to an asylum.”

Elinor reared back, disbelief etched across her face. “I beg your pardon?”

Aunt Cecilia moved to stand by Elinor, her expression fierce. “This is ludicrous. Elinor wasn’t even seen by a doctor. How could they make that determination?”

“She refused to marry the Duke of Mardale, which calls into question her sanity,” her uncle said with a smug grin. “Unless she has since changed her mind?”

Elinor’s mouth dropped. “You truly cannot be in earnest? You would force me to go to an asylum if I do not marry the duke.”

Her uncle slipped the papers back into his jacket, his eyes cold. “Not me, but the doctors would,” he contended. “Come with me and do try to avoid causing a scene.”

Alden moved to stand in front of her, shielding her from her uncle. “Lady Elinor is not going anywhere with you. She is not mad.”

“It is not up to you to decide, is it?” Lord Inglewood asked, his voice dripping with contempt. “As the closest male relation to her, it is my right to ensure she is not a danger to herself or others.”

Aunt Cecilia turned her attention towards the constable, her voice pleading. “Gregor, please say that you are not going along with this.”

The constable shrugged, his expression regretful. “Aye, I’m afraid I have nae choice.”

“But Elinor isn’t mad!” Aunt Cecilia shouted. “Lord Inglewood just wants to force her hand to marry a duke.”

“All of his documentation is in order,” the constable said. “If I dinnae take Lady Elinor, someone else will.”

Alden spun around to face Elinor, his eyes intense. “Marry me,” he whispered urgently.

“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t be in earnest.”

“I am. It is the only way to protect you,” Alden responded, his eyes searching hers.

Her eyes went wide. “Do you even want to marry me?”

“I do,” he said quickly, his voice firm .

Elinor knew that she had to make a choice. She could marry Alden, knowing he would never love her, or go to an asylum until she would eventually be forced to marry the Duke of Mardale.

Her uncle’s voice broke through her musings. “Come along, Elinor,” he ordered. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“No,” Elinor said, standing her ground. “I am not going with you. I am staying here… with Alden.”

With a sigh, her uncle responded, “Constable. Retrieve my niece.”

Alden reached for Elinor’s hand and shifted to face Lord Inglewood. “I declare that I want Lady Elinor to be my wife.”

Lord Inglewood looked heavenward, exasperation clear in his eyes. “My niece is mad. She cannot enter a marriage contract with you.”

“In England, yes, but in Scotland they have something known as ‘irregular marriages’,” Alden informed him. “All Lady Elinor has to say is that she wants to be my wife, and we are married in the eyes of the law.”

“Why would my niece want to marry you?” Lord Inglewood demanded. “You are nothing. A mere second son of an earl.”

“That is true, but I refuse to let her be locked up in an asylum at your whim,” Alden responded, his voice steady and resolute.

Aunt Cecilia met Elinor’s gaze, her eyes holding compassion. “If you agree to marry Alden, your uncle will never have control over you again.”

Elinor glanced down at their entwined hands, feeling the weight of the decision pressing on her. It was evident that her uncle would stop at nothing to ensure she married the duke, and the thought of being locked away in an asylum filled her with dread.

Her uncle snapped his fingers impatiently. “Elinor. Stop this madness and come with me. You don’t want to marry Mr. Dandridge.”

“Why?” Elinor asked, her voice challenging.

Annoyance flickered in her uncle’s eyes. “Don’t throw your life away for the likes of Mr. Dandridge. You could be a duchess.”

Elinor looked at her uncle in disbelief. “You are trying to throw me into an asylum to force my hand. Whereas Alden is trying to help me.”

“Help you?” her uncle snapped. “He just wants your dowry. Don’t be fooled by him.”

Alden tightened his hold on her hand as he responded, “Your uncle is a liar. I didn’t even know you had a dowry.”

Her uncle tossed his hands in the air. “Of course she has a dowry, you daft man. She is the daughter of a marquess,” he stated. “I have had just about enough of this conversation. Do your job, Constable.”

As the constable took a step closer to her, Alden leaned in and said in a hushed voice, “Marry me, please.”

Elinor knew she truly only had one choice. In a steady voice, she said, “I declare that I want to marry Mr. Dandridge.”

“No!” her uncle exclaimed. “What did you do, you stupid chit?”

Constable Gregor took a step back, nodding solemnly. “Now that Lady Elinor is wed, her husband is who’ll speak for her,” he said.

Her uncle reached into his pocket and pulled out the papers. “But my niece is mad.”

The constable turned his gaze to Alden. “Is yer wife mad, sir?” he asked. “Do ye want her put away?”

Alden shook his head, his voice resolute. “My wife has never been, nor ever will be, mad.”

“That is good enough for me,” the constable said. “I recommend ye get a warrant from the sheriff tae have the marriage officially registered by the local registrar. Guid day.”

Once the constable departed from the room, Alden met Lord Inglewood’s gaze. “You are no longer welcome here, my lord. Pack your trunks at once and leave us.”

“I am still Elinor’s uncle,” he declared, his voice rising in defiance.

Elinor released Alden’s hand and approached her uncle. “Why, Uncle?” she asked. “Why would you go to such great lengths for me to marry a decrepit man?”

Her uncle pursed his lips, his expression sour. “I don’t answer to you.”

“No, but I do believe you owe me an explanation,” Elinor said. “My father would have been so disappointed in you.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “I am tired of hearing what a saint your father was. You would think he walked on water. I am not him! I am my own man!” he shouted. “And I needed your dowry to keep the estate afloat. The duke agreed to return the dowry to me if you married him.”

“That is despicable,” Aunt Cecilia muttered under her breath.

In a calm, collected voice, Elinor said, “I agree with my husband. You are no longer welcome here.”

“Elinor—” her uncle started.

She put her hand up, cutting him off. “You can save your breath. Nothing you say will change my mind.”

Her uncle narrowed his eyes at Alden, seething. “This is all your fault! You ruined everything. I should challenge you to a duel.”

Alden took a step forward, his expression unyielding. “Name the time and place?—”

Elinor interjected, “Absolutely not! No one is going to fight a duel. That is the end of the discussion.”

Her uncle harrumphed. “I see who wears the pants in your marriage,” he muttered .

“It is time for you to go, Uncle,” Elinor said. Her voice brooked no argument.

“Fine,” her uncle said, waggling his finger at her. “But mark my words, you will regret marrying Mr. Dandridge.”

Elinor moved to stand by Alden. “I don’t think I will.”

Her uncle performed an exaggerated bow before departing from the drawing room, leaving Elinor with her husband.

Her husband.

What had she been thinking?